#k not exactly what i've planned but

[linusbenjamin]

She will do anything to get away. You're not running now.

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

The 'GETTING A TATTOO WOULD SO FIX ME' thought has returned with a mighty vengeance.

[chryblossomjjk]

the weekend | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: dilf!jk x babysitter reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | fwb, sm*t, angst

⇢ WC: 13.8k

⇢ WARNINGS: alright boyz strap in bc it's a doozy lmao, protected s*x, multiple org*sms (m & f), or*l s*x (m receiving), face f*ck, f*ngering, rough s*x, face slapping, sp*nking, exh*bitionism, sir k*nk, t*tty f*ck, t*tty sucking (duh), body piercings (n*pples), age gap (reader is 23 and jk is like 30), infid*lity (reader is the other woman), ch*king, overst*mulation, sp*tting, man handling, finger s*cking, d*m jk, brief mentions of past add*ction, implied passing of a bby (mainly subtext w no details given), maybe unrequited love, maybe not (EVIL CACKLE), some dark thoughts discussed (nothing too graphic or detailed), fighting n yelling n crying yikes, all of these characters are v flawed (except for yul duh), cute bby moments!!, oc is v immature n naive n contradicts herself a lot, she maybe has a thing for older guys bc of that, some bl*od (just a scrape on the knee but ik bl*od can be triggering), this relationship is extremely toxic and not meant to be desired!!!, one homage to trixie mattel lmao

⇢ SUMMARY: every weekend, you give jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.

⇢ NOTES: so after months and months of planning this fic (i literally posted the teaser in JANUARY UM??), it's finally here. i think this is my fav thing i've written thus far and i worked v hard on this! would love to know ur thoughts, feedback is always appreciated!! ty @/taegularities for betaing!! (for whatever reason, this fic refuses to show up in tags n it sucks n nothing i do fixes it so i shall leave it be lol)

You can't tell what’s louder—the crunch of dewy, end-of-summer grass pricking the soft skin of your thighs like angry thorns, or the cracking of bones as your body thumps to the ground from your bedroom window. 

“Ah-” the whine is quickly stifled by a sharp hiss as you remember your dad’s sleeping figure is just behind the wall next to you. “Ouch,” you whimper, praying that the crash hasn’t reached his watchful ears. Carefully, you climb to your feet, brushing the dirt off your bare legs. You spot a fresh crimson scrape on your knee.

Fucking great. 

Finally, after days of longing and waiting, the weekend has arrived. Today, in particular, is a fantastic day. You were trying to look sexy, and blood isn't exactly the sexiest accessory. Bringing your wrist up to your nose, you inhale the candy-scented liquid you had doused yourself in before leaving. 

Perfume still in check, thank fuck.

Goosebumps form on your skin as you take long, dutiful strides, cool night mist gliding through the thin material of your long silk shirt. You’ve committed this path to memory—out the window, usually in a more graceful manner, through the neighbor’s yard, and then straight down the sidewalk to the black Mercedes Benz waiting for you at the end of the road. 

If you hadn’t done this a million and one times already, you might’ve missed the vehicle, so dark that it blends into the night seamlessly. You can’t help but wonder if that’s his goal entirely. 

Still, the excitement of it all makes you walk a little faster. 

“Hey, Jungkook,” you smile as you slide into his black leather passenger seat, leaning over the center console to give his cheek a gentle peck. Maybe you’ve overstepped a boundary and muddied the lines in the sand of your… relationship, but you can’t help yourself. Seeing Jungkook was always a treat, one you looked forward to every Friday night for the past five months.

“Hi,” he says impassively, eyes darting over your figure. A loose strand of hair dangles in front of his eyes, teasing you. “You’re wearing makeup?”

“Oh, um…” You’re at a loss for words; surprised he noticed such a slight change in your appearance. Although his perceptiveness was something you noted shortly after you began working for him, you can’t help but feel flustered. “Yeah, I… wanted to look nice tonight. Totally busted my ass climbing out the window,” you laugh.

“Did you get hurt?” His straight brows furrow slightly, silver piercing reflecting the moonlight. 

“Just a scratch.” You lift your leg to show him the red mark on your knee. “Didn’t break anything, though, so that’s a plus.”

Wordlessly, Jungkook reaches over, popping open the glove compartment before you and pulling out the first aid kit he keeps there for emergencies. The scent of clean linen wafts over you from his daily cologne. His scent. Only his. You try your best to subdue the possessive smirk forming. “You should be more careful.”

“I’m okay.”

“Be more careful,” he commands, peering up at you with an icy gaze. “Got it?”

Whether it’s the seven-year age gap between the two of you or the tone of his voice, you know better than to argue. “Yes,” you wince as he rubs Neosporin onto the open wound. “Besides, I wouldn’t have gotten hurt if my dad wasn’t so… overprotective.”

“Well,” he continues, sticking a pink Baby Shark bandaid to your skin before putting the box back, “as a father, I understand.”

“Yul is two, though,” you laugh, “I’m in my twenties.”

“Being in your early twenties hardly makes you an adult,” he mutters. "Besides, it doesn't matter. The need to protect your children always stays the same.”

“Poor Bunny,” you pout jokingly as you click your seatbelt on. “She’s going to be just like me when she’s older. Sneaking out of a window to see a boy because her daddy is a big grizzly bear.”

The comment has his nose twitching in irritation. “I’m done with this conversation, __.”

You freeze. Have you struck a nerve?

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you peep. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop.” His voice is flat, but your heart thumps. “It’s fine.”

All the excitement you feel suddenly morphs into an uncomfortable ache as you slump into your seat. It’s different than it was last weekend, positioned much closer to the dashboard than you would ever put it. There’s a claustrophobic sting in your chest as you realize someone else has been in this very spot. 

You know they have, and you know who. 

The deafening sound of the bulky silver band on his finger, tapping against the steering wheel as he begins driving to the hotel you frequent, is a sick reminder.

You swear there’s even a musky floral scent lingering in the air. Deeper and more mature than yours. It could be paranoia, or guilt, making you imagine things. Still, you hope your perfume finds its way into every fiber of his leather seats. 

“How was your day?” Jungkook asks, interrupting any rational thought or doubt, luring you back into the vicious cycle. 

“A bit stressful,” you sigh. “I applied for school today.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, pretty sure I messed up on the financial aid paperwork, though. It was super confusing; I didn’t understand any of it.”

“You should’ve brought it over. I could’ve helped you.” 

Jungkook does have a master’s degree in finance. He could’ve been your Rosetta Stone, helping you decipher convoluted questions about taxes and deductions. However, you weren’t sure how he would’ve reacted to you pulling out your laptop post-sex, asking for assistance on something completely unrelated to your normal routine. “That’s not the type of thing we usually do when we’re together,” you shrug, “you know?”

Your response has him shifting in his spot, pierced bottom lip curling inwards like the words made him queasy. He was the one who encouraged you to go back to school in the first place. “I wouldn’t have minded,” Jungkook mumbles before quickly redirecting the dialogue, something he does whenever he’s frustrated or uncomfortable. “So, what’s the special occasion?” 

“Huh?” 

“What’s got you all dolled up?”

Oh, right. That special occasion. The one you’ve been anticipating since you were made aware of its existence. 

“Happy three years sober!” You announce with a cheesy smile, throwing your arms up eagerly. 

“Ah,” he huffs in recognition. His eyes are fixed on the road, but there’s the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face. Success. It takes everything in you not to physically rejoice. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

“What do you mean?” You ask with a pout. “How could I forget?”

“I don’t know.” Just like that, the flicker of happiness wisps away like a flame in the wind as his expression turns emotionless and stoic again. “It’s not really a big deal.”

You frown. Must he always be so… cold? 

‘It’s okay to smile; you deserve it,’ is what you want to tell him. It's not your place, though. You opt for: “It’s a huge deal, Jungkook,” instead. Reaching over, you gently tuck the stray strand of hair behind his decorated ear. 

A somber aura hangs around him like a dark, dreary rain cloud, and in moments like this, when it’s so visible, you just… need to touch him.

It’s stupid to think that you’re the special one; that you’ll be the girl to turn the rain into a rainbow and save him from himself, but you can’t refrain from trying. 

“Did you celebrate?”

He shakes his head. “Went to work.” 

You can tell from his outfit—a sleek black blazer resting neatly on top of an even darker button-up and tie. His long hair is slicked back, but gravity, and his ten-hour long shift took their toll, making the strands hang slack, short undercut peaking through. He looks so incredibly sexy. Maybe, you can comfort him in the only way you know how…

“Well, there’s still time.” You point to the clock on his touchscreen stereo: 11:12 p.m. You throw your hair over your shoulder before slowly undoing the top two buttons of your shirt, revealing the skimpy black lingerie set you splurged on just for tonight. Just for him. “We can celebrate…”

“Yeah?” His cheek bubbles, tongue poking at the inside of his mouth, eyebrow jumping at your suggestion. “How so?”

You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over the center console. It’s reckless, but so is being with a man like Jungkook. When you finally get to have him the way you want, you’re incapable of rationality. 

One night of him isn’t enough. What kind of tease is that? You need at least six more to be satisfied…

“__,” he warns, arching his head away from your sneaky lips.  “Put your seatbelt on. Wait until we get to the hotel.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” You pout, cupping his cheek in your hand and batting your eyelashes innocently. Jungkook doesn’t take the bait, giving the desolate road ahead his unwavering attention. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, you can tell you’re getting to him. Below you, his slacks tighten around his thick, tensed thighs. He’s playing right into your hands. Needily, you tongue the little silver hoops dangling from his ear. 

“If I have to pull over, you’re in trouble.”

“Maybe I-”

A hushed ‘fuck’ cuts you off as the car comes to a screeching halt. Jungkook slams on the brakes, coming too close to the slower vehicle in front of you for comfort. Luckily, his dad reflexes kick in. His strong hand grips your waist tightly, preventing you from barreling forward. You brace yourself by clutching his shoulders, and when the adrenaline rush fades, you finally look at him. His nostrils are flared, and his jaw is clenched painfully tight. He’s pissed. 

You know you should apologize, or be a little shaken up, but the blinking of the turn signal as he pulls to the side of the dark highway has your mouth watering. This is just what you wanted. 

Jungkook sighs in frustration, tilting his head back against the headrest. The movement is counterintuitive, exposing the inked canvas of his neck that you’re desperate to paint red and purple. 

A hand fists your tangled hair, pulling you off with a harsh yank before you have the chance to sink your teeth in. The silver ring on his finger digs into your scalp like a knife. “Do not fucking mark me.”

The feeling of the frigid metal is agonizing. Not physically—his grip loosens immediately after the initial tug—but emotionally. You know why he doesn’t want you to mark him. Any evidence of you, other than your weekly babysitting duties, would unravel the entire life he’s built for himself. 

Jungkook is an intelligent man, though. You don’t have to tell him that it’s all a façade, and everything’s already been undone. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out frail and shaky. “I just want you.”

And like some cruel joke, his phone rings. 

The contact image would typically make you swoon. It’s a picture of him and his daughter from her first birthday party; her sticky, strawberry ice cream covered hands holding his cheeks as he stares at her with scrunched eyes and a big smile. You think that picture is the only time you’ve ever seen him genuinely happy.

The bold, white font at the top of the screen makes you sick to your stomach. 

‘Wife.’

Jungkook releases your hair and places a finger over his mouth, signaling you to shut up,  before answering. 

“Yes, Seulgi?”

“Your daughter would like to speak to you.” 

Her voice makes you want to curl into yourself. Whenever you talk to Seulgi regarding Yul, you’re able to compartmentalize and detach that part of yourself from this one. The one that’s sleeping with her husband. Hearing her in this compromised setting makes you feel absolutely repulsive. 

After some rustling and tiny sniffles, Yul answers. “Da-” She only manages a syllable before breaking into a cry-induced coughing fit. You cringe, poor Bunny. “Daddy!”

“What’s wrong with my baby?”

You don’t mean to giggle, especially when the little girl you’ve grown to love so much is clearly distressed, but the intimidating, grumpy, tattooed businessman beside you, talking in full-on pout, tickles your brain just right.

“I don’t wanna sleep alone!” Yul screeches in the most anguished, high-pitched tone.

“Bunny…” With the way his hands scrub down his face, you can tell the tears on the other end are physically affecting him. “Take a deep breath, please.”

There’s a shaky inhale, and a sad whine of an exhale as she tries to steady her respirations.

“Thank you, good job,” he affirms. “Yul, daddy is…” Dark pupils flicker over to you, his face scowled to match. He eyes you like you’re an annoying stain on his leather seat. A dirty little secret that’s keeping him from his daughter. The gesture sends a dagger through your chest. Usually, Jungkook tells his wife he’s working overtime, but he can’t bring himself to lie to his only daughter. “Busy.”

“B-B-But.” The wails have simmered down to a blubber. “Scared.”

“You have mommy, though, don’t you?” He counters exasperatedly, cogs turning at maximum speed to conjure up a solution. “And Ruru?”

Yul is a persistent girl. You’ve seen the two-and-a-half-year-old deadpan Jungkook with a ‘you can have them, then,’ when he tried to convince her that vegetables were delicious and totally not an abomination to tastebuds. “Jeon Ruru is scared, too.”

After a few months of dedication and trust building, Yul finally initiated you into her inner circle of squishmallows, all of which shared the surname, Jeon, followed by whatever random title her baby brain bestowed them. Jeon Ruru, a glass of strawberry milk, was her favorite. You coo in remembrance. 

“What about Ado?” Jungkook suggests, exhausting all his options.

“Ado?” She peeps curiously, and you can almost see her doe eyes scanning the room for her runner-up, an avocado squishmallow you gifted her. “Ado’s sleepin’.”

“Can you go get him?”

There’s a long pause of contemplation before the pitter-patter of tiny feet on wood fills the speakers. “Jeon Ado!” She calls out, voice becoming distant as she runs to her bedroom, “daddy wantsa’ talk to you!” You make out a quiet ‘I’ll tuck you in’ when Seulgi helps her to bed. “Okay,” Yul huffs, breathless from her scurry down the long corridor, “he’s here.”

“Jeon Ado.” You rarely see this side of him, and it takes all of your strength to suppress the smile that’s creeping up. “Can you keep Yul safe while I’m away?” He even leans forward a bit, turning his ear towards the speaker as if he’s actually waiting for the stuffed avocado to answer, subconsciously playing along with his daughter despite being miles apart. The scene puts your overwhelmingly sweet perfume to shame. “Uh, Yul, he said yes. So can you sleep in your big girl bed tonight?”

Reluctantly, Yul grumbles in agreement.

“Alright baby, goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

Again, she answers with a little grunt and a yawn.

“I love you.”

“Love youuu!” She extends the vowel for emphasis.

“I love you more.”

There’s a beat of silence before the sleepy girl simply responds ‘yep,’ not even attempting to argue. He glances at you, this time with a wholesome smile, eyes warm with burning stars. It’s moments like this that keep you hooked, you think. Like always, the feeling is short-lived. When Seulgi mumbles a sweet goodnight to her daughter, their daughter, you’re reminded that you shouldn’t even be observing this domestic interaction. 

“You know,” the man begins, turning his attention to his wife, “if you had given her a warm bottle, she would’ve gone down without a hitch.” 

“Jungkook, she’s too old for a bottle.” And just like that, the fire between them ignites. You’ve never actually witnessed the pair fighting, only felt the uncomfortable heat between them in passing. “And she’s too old to be co-sleeping. She never had an issue sleeping alone beforehand.”

“Alright,” he asserts, “if Yul’s okay, then we’re done here.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?” Despite his warning, she continues. “Getting her used to sleeping with you and then not being here?”

There were many things about having a daughter that Jungkook wasn’t prepared for.

It’s not that he didn’t do his research, and Yul certainly wasn’t an accident. He had wanted her more than anything. Especially after the… 

Incident.

A baby-sized hole was left in Jungkook’s chest. Every day, it grew bigger and bigger until, eventually, that bitter emptiness would’ve swallowed him alive. 

Jungkook needed Yul. 

Still, there were certain things that parenting books and videos hadn’t warned him about, like the worry in his stomach whenever his daughter refuses her lunch, or the ache in his heart when he drops her off at daycare and she watches him leave through the window with a sad wave and tears rolling down her cheeks as if he’s just abandoned her forever. As if he or his wife aren’t going to pick her up in a mere four hours like they do every Tuesday and Thursday. His readings haven’t prepared him for the even stronger ache that consumes his entire body whenever he leaves for work too early and comes home too late, with barely any time to spend with his favorite person in the world.  

Before Yul was even born, Jungkook and Seulgi had decided that co-sleeping was out of the question. Their room was for them, and he stood firm on that principle for a while. However, as time passed, their room became Seulgi’s, and the empty bedroom downstairs became his. 

Jungkook couldn’t stand that room. 

One night, after a particularly grueling shift, Jungkook trudges up the stairs for a late shower. Without finance talk or Yul’s babbles, he’s left to his own thoughts. Usually, under the scalding water, he wondered how his life turned out this way, or more so, why? This time, Jungkook wonders if there is even a reason to keep going at all.

He catches his reflection while brushing his teeth. His eyes are dark, cold, distant. Those same eyes belong to his daughter, but all he sees when looking into hers is love, innocence, and everything good in life. 

Maybe, just maybe, there’s hope for him. 

Taking a detour to Yul’s room, Jungkook does his best to quietly tip-toe around squishmallows and discarded markers. Underneath the pink blanket is a little ball of fluffy black hair. She’s got her thumb in her mouth—a bad habit he and Seulgi had been trying to nip in the bud—with her chubby cheeks squished against her pillow. There were few things he hated more than waking her up, especially when she was sleeping so peacefully, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t stop himself. 

Tiny, confused cries fill the room as Jungkook scoops her up. 

“Shh,” he hushes, smoothing his palm over her onesie-clad back. “It’s just me.”

“Da- ddy?” Immediately, she relaxes at the familiar sound of his voice, words slurred as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes with a little fist before peering up at him with big marble eyes. 

“How was daycare, Bunny?” 

“Scared,” she whimpers, slumping into his chest for comfort. “Scaredy cat.”

“Scaredy cat?” Jungkook repeats, trying to make sense of the phrase. “Who’s a scaredy cat?”

“Jeon Yul.” 

Typically, Jungkook finds it adorable when Yul refers to herself in the third person. The way she says it this time makes him frown. “Jeon Yul is not a scaredy cat. Jeon Yul is a baby, that’s all.” Realizing that she’d probably heard the unfavorable title at daycare, his chest tightens. With a heavy sigh, he rests his chin on top of her round head, swaying back and forth. Her hair smells like green apples from her baby soap. “Why were you scared, sweetheart?”

“No color…” 

On his lunch break, Seulgi informed him that she was picking Yul up early. In an attempt to encourage her to engage with other children, the teacher took away Yul’s crayons, sending her into a full-blown tantrum. Jungkook knew his daughter well, a spitting image of him in every capacity. The crayons weren’t the problem; it was that crippling shyness that made her afraid of socializing with nearly anyone other than you and her parents.

Her back ripples with tiny hiccups as she recounts the events. Jungkook decides it’s best to change the subject, not wanting to upset his two-year-old anymore—especially this late at night. 

“Guess what?”

Yul grunts an inquisitive noise.

“Daddy got you Baby Shark coloring books.”

Her wispy bedhead bounces as she glances side to side, inspecting her room for any sign of new Pinkfong merchandise. Jungkook was genuinely amazed at her ability to keep track of it all, considering how much he and his wife loved to spoil her rotten. However, the word ‘rotten’ doesn’t even come close to describing his baby. “Where?”

“In my car,” he laughs, slicking her choppy bangs out of her eyes. “We’ll color tomorrow., okay?”

“I like Baby Shark,” Yul says, completely ignoring his question. The teeniest, tiniest, most precious yawn slips out, two little front teeth on full display before her lips smack together sleepily. Truly living up to her nickname.

“I know you do.” He’s still rocking her gently, buying some time before she falls back into sleep’s arms and out of his. “I missed you so much today.” 

“Why?”

As of late, ‘why’ seems to be Yul’s favorite word. 

Why is the sky blue?

Why do vegetables taste yucky?

Why is daddy’s nose so big?

He’d be lying if he said that last, brutally honest question hadn’t caught him off guard when she first uttered it on his hip at the grocery store. 

“Because I love you.” It’s the most effortless sentence he’s ever spoken. The most natural feeling he’s ever felt.

“Why?” 

“Because,” his eye roll is disconnected from his growing smile, “you’re so cute!” If they weren’t enclosed by the four pink walls of Yul’s bedroom, Jungkook would be embarrassed at the squeakiness of his usual monotone voice. Leaning down, Jungkook blows a raspberry against her doughy cheek, a tried and true method of making her laugh. “Do you want to sleep in my room?”

It’s against his better judgment and the ground rules he had agreed to, but he just… really needs to spend time with her tonight. The small nod against his chest seals the deal. Before he gets to the door, Yul stops him with an exaggerated gasp.

“Daddy, Ruru!”

“Ruru?” 

She grunts, frustrated at her father’s confusion, frantically pointing at her partner in crime, the strawberry milk squishmallow lying neatly underneath her comforter. Just how she left it.

“Yul,” Jungkook starts, taking a few steps backward and bending at the waist, allowing her to take the oversized stuffie into her arms. “Isn’t this Mimi?” As far as Jungkook knows, the pink milk carton with a face had always been Mimi; a name Yul had dubbed it since he brought it home a couple months back.

“Ruru,” she states affirmatively. 

And ever since then, Yul’s been a co-sleeper. 

Jungkook prided himself on knowing his daughter like the back of his tattooed hand. Whether it’s a sixth sense, some innate father’s instinct that the parenting videos mentioned, or his own attention to detail, he could read her like a book. However, sharing a bed with the tiny human taught him something he had been blissfully unaware of:

Yul sleeps wild. 

More often than not, Jungkook was awoken by a tiny foot kicking his back, or by his own reflexes as he was somehow pushed to the very corner of the bed by his twenty-pound baby. There were even a few times when a harsh tug on his hair acted as an alarm clock. When he turned around to confront the culprit, however, she was fast asleep, arm slung over one of the many squishmallows that had worked their way into his room. 

Having her with him was worth all bald spots and bruises, though. It’s bad, he knows it, and night by night, Yul becomes more attached. Getting her acclimated to daycare had been hell, to say the least. He knows co-sleeping has possibly made her more reluctant to socialize than she already was. 

Still, Jungkook can’t help but wonder who’s more dependent on the other. When he thinks about it, undoubtedly, the answer is him. Because as long as he wakes up to a little foot in his back, a fist in his hair, and the smell of green apple baby soap, he has a reason to keep going. 

“Don’t you think she deserves better?”

Her sharp words swipe through the air like a blade. Even you feel the cut, cautiously eyeing Jungkook. You can’t read his expression, but something about it makes you rub a comforting hand over his shoulder. He doesn’t react to your touch at all.

There’s a sullen pause before he finally answers. “I think Yul deserves everything.”

“Right… Goodnight, Jungkook.” She hangs up before he has the chance to respond. Seulgi always struck you as a level-headed person, albeit a bit aloof, but never unfair or cruel. You assume she’s just being spiteful, because anyone who knows Jungkook would never question his dedication to his daughter. That ugly, bitter, jealous side of you thinks maybe she just doesn’t know him the way you do. 

“Are you okay?” You whisper as if approaching a wounded animal, ready to attack. 

“On Fridays,” he starts, eyes shamefully dropping to his fidgeting hands. “Yul spends the day with my parents.”

His incessant need to defend his parenting makes your heart ache. “Hey, I-”

“She’s usually asleep by the time I leave work.” 

“Kook,” you interrupt his rambling. “You don’t have to explain; I understand... I think you’re an amazing father.”

Lifting his head, Jungkook looks you directly in the eyes. His are glassy and gentle now, but the fingers that hook into your lace bra, right between the cups, are rough and abrasive. “C’mere,” he gruffs, pulling you over the center console until you’re uncomfortably sandwiched between his solid chest and the steering wheel. There’s no effort to make room for you; he doesn’t slide his seat back. He doesn’t compromise any of his space for you. You accept it, steadying yourself on his shoulders with a grunt. 

Sometimes, you question what your presence in his life truly is. Are you an escape or a punching bag? Are you merely something he can sink his nails and teeth into when angry? Something he can break without consequence? The sound of thread ripping and buttons popping fills the car as he slides the silk off your shoulders, letting the delicate material fall to the floor without a care in the world.

“You wore this for me?” A fingertip lightly traces the petite swell of your breasts, barely bulging over the frilly black cups of your push-up. The sensation sets your skin ablaze.

“Mhm,” you confirm, “I wanted today to be special.”

“You care about me?” Moonlight cuts through the dewy window, beaming against the side of his face, highlighting the taut pull in his features. His question seems genuine, but the answer is obvious, isn’t it? Simply being here with him makes the entire foundation of your soul, all of your morals and beliefs, crumble to pieces. Against your better judgment, you’re still here. 

Yearning. Trying. Fighting.

You swipe a thumb over his thick brows, trying to ease the angry crinkle that’s become a permanent fixture on his beautiful face. You comb through his hair. It’s a little knotted, a little crunchy from old gel. 

The answer should be obvious, but you don’t think Jungkook could internalize love if it was right in front of him.

“I care about you,” you say truthfully, “a lot.”

The stars in his eyes gleam for a moment, glowing bright and vibrant, before they’re engulfed by the suffocating blackness of his pupils. 

“You poor thing,” Jungkook tuts, trailing his fingers up your neck before grasping your jaw with a single hand. The baby fat of your cheeks mushes together from the force. “You're gonna let me do whatever I want to you, aren't you?”

The tone of his voice has your heart fluttering and your stomach churning with thick hot desire. Gripping his wrist with both hands, you moan out a ‘yes,’ unconsciously grinding down onto his slack-covered bulge. He’s barely touched you yet and your cunt is leaking, making a mess of your itty bitty thong and his work suit. 

“Right, of course.” With the same hand holding you, Jungkook taps his index finger against your glossy pout, “open.” Just barely parting your lips, you let the thick digit slide between them. Immediately, he presses down against your tongue, trying to coax a gag out of you. “What if I want to fuck this pretty little mouth until you cry? How does that sound? Would you like that?”

Inhaling deeply, you nod. That sounds absolutely perfect.

“I don’t know if you can handle it, though,” he lulls, retracting his finger before plunging it back in, all the up to his inked knuckle. You squint in defiance. He’s teasing, but you can’t fight the tinge of anger in your chest. If there’s one thing you can do, it’s suck a mean dick. Looking him directly in the eyes, you swirl your tongue against his palm with ease, not choking once. You feel his cock twitch against the supple flesh of your inner thigh. 

Unamused by your antics, Jungkook yanks his hand back angrily, making a string of saliva drip down your chin. Maybe a full face of makeup wasn’t the best idea. “Get in the backseat,” he orders huskily, wiping the damp skin on his blazer. Biting back a smirk, you climb off his lap and wriggle over the center console. You situate yourself on the cool leather, laying down and assuming face-fuck position. 

The yellow glow of headlights swims across the ceiling as a passing car drifts down the misty highway. This is the first time in five months that you and Jungkook are out in the open, blissfully oblivious to the possibility of getting caught. It’s childish, but you hope someone sees. For a moment in time—in a wandering eye’s glimpse of reality—you’re his and he's yours.

“Couldn’t wait until we got to the hotel, huh?” Jungkook huffs when he opens the door. Giddily, you lean your head back over the edge of the seat, coming face to face with the tent in his pants. His hands frantically work to unbuckle his belt, desperate to bury himself inside of you. His favorite escape. “Well, since you want to act like a fucking whore-” his pants fall to his knees with a clang when he unbuttons them, “-I’ll treat you like one.”

“Please,” you whimper, noting the wet spot on his gray Calvin Kleins. Reaching up, you lightly drag your nails across it, teasingly pinching the head of his cock before he tugs his boxers down. A big greedy smile spreads across your face as his semi springs out. 

The sight makes your lips part. It’s so pretty. Something about how the moonlight catches the glowy pink tip, peeking out from under his foreskin. The light accentuates every ridge and vein on his girthy shaft. So yummy it has you drooling-

Jungkook’s right. You’re a complete and utter whore.

“Is this what you wanted?” He peers down at you over his prominent nose, one hand clutching the roof of his Mercedes. The other wraps around his thick shaft, giving it a few languid pumps, getting himself fully erect for you. Teasingly, he taps the head against your plump lips. Unable to resist, you press a sweet peck and a kitten lick to his silky frenulum. “Uh-uh,” he chuckles, raising his delicious cock just beyond your reach. “You know better than that. Ask for permission.”

“Wanna suck it,” you pout, squirming impatiently. “Please?”

Suddenly, his heavy cock slaps your cheek with a wet thud.

“Please, what?”

“Please, sir?”

“Good girl.” The praise is contradicted by another light smack to your face, this time with an open palm. Taking the hint, you open your mouth wide, tongue sticking out in anticipation. Jungkook watches you intently with furrowed brows and a slack jaw as he feeds you the first few inches. As soon as the salty flavor of his arousal hits your tastebuds, you moan obnoxiously, back arching off the leather beneath you. 

He starts slowly, using your breathing to guide his movements—pausing on the exhales and giving you a bit more on the inhales. He does this until the entirety of his length is shoved down your warm, wet mouth. 

The hem of his black dress shirt flows over you, obstructing his view. He places it between his teeth with an annoyed groan, wanting to watch the swell in your neck as you swallow him like a snake. “You take it so well,” he grunts over the material, “the best I’ve ever had.”

Tears clinging to your lashes finally lose grip, trickling down your skin until they get lost in the thick, dark swoops of your dangling hair. For once, you mean something more to him than she does. It’s insignificant and shameful, but at least it's something.

“Are you okay, __?” Jungkook asks, sensing the shift as your soul splays before him like your half-naked body. Stepping back, he gives you some reprieve.

With red eyes and drool bubbling at the corners of your lips, you moan out an implied ‘yes.’ His confession has you on cloud nine.

“Do you remember the sign?”

Again, you hum. 

“Can you show me?”

Lazily, you tap his outer thigh three times, a hard ‘stop’ symbol you had agreed upon months ago while hanging off the edge of a hotel bed, preparing for Jungkook to fuck your mouth for the very first time. 

“Good girl,” he says before rutting his entire length into you again. He’s so deep that the soft skin of his scrotum nudges against the tip of your nose, and the dense patch of trimmed hair on his pubic bone tickles your chin. Reaching down, Jungkook grips your neck, reveling in the feeling of it stretching against his palm as he moves in and out steadily. 

Eventually, he hunches over, hands wandering down and holding your temples for better leverage. Despite the harsh digs of his hips, his delicate fingers brush away a few strands of hair stuck to your damp cheeks. The sweet gesture makes you whimper around him in pure ecstasy, moving your head to meet his thrusts for extra stimulation, circling your flat tongue around the base. 

The whistles of the midnight breeze and the murmur of passing cars fade, and all you hear is Jungkook. The melodic, venomous praises pouring out of him poison your mind with optimism. He takes one last plunge, so powerful it sends you sliding back against the seat. To steady yourself, you grip his legs, attempting to ease your triggered gag reflex. He holds you there, cock stuffed to the brim as he slams a hand against the black steel of his car, shirt falling from his teeth as he moans ardently. You gasp when he finally pulls out, leaking tip still connected to you by a bridge of spit and precum.

“Why-” Cough. “Why did you stop?” 

Your question is met with only the sound of rustling fabric and the chime of his hanging belt buckle as he removes his suit jacket and throws it into the passenger seat. Grabbing you by the band of your lingerie, Jungkook hauls your frame closer.

He snaps your taut bra strap against your shoulder with a single finger. “Take this off.”

“O-Okay,” you stutter, still trying to catch your breath as you sit up at the waist and unclip your bra. A shiver runs down your spine as the cool night air licks your exposed chest. This time when you lie down, you’re positioned under his spread legs. He stands over you with such authority and dominance. The underside view of his hard cock looks absolutely menacing. 

“These,” Jungkook’s large palms grab at your tits, jiggling them, “I wanna fuck ‘em.”

“There isn’t anything for you to fuck,” you giggle. 

After years of insecurity, and crying over vengeful comments from dumb boys you had broken things off with, you finally came to terms with your appearance. Your tits are small, and that’s okay. Plus, the cute little nipple piercings you had gotten a while back were definitely a confidence booster. There wasn’t an ounce of self-hatred in your comment.

Jungkook doesn’t take it that way, though.

“Shut up.” With a huff, he steps back and hunches, reaching down to deliver a harsh swat to your cheek. It was a little rougher than usual, and you wince upon impact. Instantly, he soothes the skin with a gentle pet. “Your tits are… perfect.”

Perfect? Your cheeks and aching pussy heat up at the compliment.

Squeezing your chest, Jungkook brushes his thumbs over your pebbled nipples. He pays extra attention to the silver barbells, decorated with little sparkly peaches at the ends. “These are new,” he notes, tugging on the jewelry. You let out a breathy moan, legs clenching together, inner thighs embarrassingly wet. “Sheesh,” he laughs, “someone’s sensitive.”

“Yeah… keep going.”

“I like them. They’re cute on you.”

Throughout your acquaintances, Jungkook was rarely this vocal. Maybe some praise sprinkled in here and there, but seldom anything substantial. Tonight, however, he’s been dishing out sweet talk like candy. You can’t pinpoint precisely what, but something’s changed.

Whatever it is, it fills you with awful, wishful hope.

Jungkook shuffles closer, teasing the teat of your pierced bud with his sticky tip. The dreamy sensation has your eyes rolling back into your skull. A glob of spit drops between the valley of your breasts before he spreads the wetness over your skin with his shaft. He has to use a death grip to force your tits into a soft plushness, perfect for him to slot himself into. Again, you feel that fucking ring embedding itself into your skin like a nasty tick. 

Cautiously, he guides his pulsing cock between your constrained breasts. A beautiful symphony of groans lulls out as he throws his head back in pleasure, long locks dancing along his clammy neck. 

“You like that?” You hum, taunting him. “Tell me how it feels.”

It takes him a minute to collect his thoughts, eyes trained on your tits pillowing around him, focusing on the dewy sheen of your nipples and chest as his oozing cock spills onto your skin. “It feels-” his hips stutter, “-so fucking good.”

The way his teeth snarl around the hushed curse makes you smile, eyes closing as you relish in his pleasure. Maybe you’re too horny, or perhaps the blood rushing to your head from being upside down for so long is making you crazy, but you wish you could live in this moment forever. Wallowing in the darkness, frozen in time with him. Yeah, you think, that would be wonderful.

“You can touch yourself,” he comments, spotting your clenched legs, desperate for some pressure. 

“S’okay,” you mumble, reaching around to caress his balls. His thighs tremble a bit against your arms. “Just wanna make you feel good.”

“Can you-” he grunts, stomach clenching as he begins to feel that familiar pooling in the base of his thick shaft. “Hold them for me. I’ll take care of you after, just- let me cum.”

Obliging, you replace his hands with your own, squishing your tits together for him. The visual of you lying under him, complacent and willing, sends him spiraling. A guttural roar echoes throughout the empty road as he speeds up. “Tighter,” he orders; you listen. The saliva and precum are beginning to rub off, making the friction of his chaotic thrusts sting your skin. He notices, letting another string of spit fall from his mouth onto your flesh. “Be good and take it. I’m almost there.”

By now, Jungkook should know you’d endure any pain to be with him. 

The darkest parts of your brain tell you he’s well aware of that fact. 

After a few more humps and lulled words of encouragement, he’s bursting at the seams. Just before he blows, Jungkook steps back, tight fist jerking himself frantically as he spills his seed onto your chest. Your eyes dart from his angry cock to his fucked out expressions. The moonlight shines behind him like a glowing aura as he finishes with a scrunched nose and his tongue between his teeth. He looks angelic. You moan under him, flinching when a stray spurt lands on your chin. 

Fucked out and dazed, he laughs softly, running a hand through his hair as his chest heaves. Collecting the liquid with his finger, he brings it to your giggling lips. The taste makes you hum as you lazily begin rubbing his cum all over your tits. 

“Really?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. “You’re already starting?”

“Starting what?” You pout, batting your lashes at him and circling your nipple lightly with the tip of your nail, trying your best to look oblivious and innocent. Well, as innocent as you possibly can while literally covered in sperm. 

“Don’t play dumb. You know what you’re doing.”

See, in many ways, Jungkook is different from any other guy you’ve been with prior. For one, you didn’t meet via horny messages on Tinder at 1 a.m. For two, he’s older, meaning he’s much more intelligent and much more experienced. After years and years of honing in on his craft, he just knows how to fuck. Jungkook is one of the rare few penis-havers in the world who can orgasm back to back; no refractory period necessary. Truly a hidden gem. 

To put it simply, the man is a fucking faucet—one that you can turn off and on whenever you want. 

As if on cue, Jungkook twirls his inked finger, indicating for you to turn around. The other hand squeezes his cock just below the crown to cut off circulation, keeping himself erect. With that, your white converses are planted flat onto the sparse grass as you bend over the back seat, leaning your weight on your elbows. 

It's like whiplash when Jungkook's aggressive persona drops, and he's running his hands all over your body. Up your thighs, over your back, down your arms. He blooms petal-soft kisses on your bare shoulder before whispering in your ear. “Can I go in like this? Or do you need some foreplay?”

“This is fine,” you murmur, jarred by his sudden tenderness. “Perfect, actually.” 

With a hushed ‘alright,’ Jungkook reaches over you to rummage through the pocket of his discarded blazer. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as he pulls out a square foil packet. Condoms were an unwavering constant in your weekend escapades. Jungkook always wears condoms. Normally, that would be a great thing; however, in this situation, it’s like a stab to the heart…

Because if he’s adamant about using protection with you, then that means he’s still sleeping with her, doesn’t it? And it’s not like you can even ask or scold him about it. She’s his wife, after all. You’re the outsider. 

Jungkook hooks his thumb into your panties and pulls them aside. Your glistening folds are on full display, waiting to get pounded mercilessly right on the side of the road. He shoves three digits into your mouth, letting your drool on them a bit before pressing them to your wet cunt. Opening your folds with his index and ring fingers, he lightly dips the middle inside you. He collects some arousal and spreads it to your clit in feathery flicking motions. You cry out, feeling the shocks of a blossoming orgasm. 

“Already dripping, I see.” You can practically hear his cocky, satisfied grin as he stands straight and rolls the condom down his length. “Always so sensitive.”

“Mhm,” you nod frantically, “I always get like this with you.”

“I know you do.” Pulling a cheek to the side, Jungkook cards his sheathed tip through your entrance, making sure to nudge under your clitoral hood with every swipe. Lewd wet sounds ring in your ears as he tortures your hole relentlessly. 

“Kook,” you huff, reaching back to dig your manicured, almond-shaped nails into his skin. “Just put it in!”

Suddenly, Jungkook slams your torso onto the leather. In one swift motion, he’s catching your wrists, pinning them both to your lower back with a single hand. 

“I’ll give you what you want just-” releasing the back of your neck, he spanks you so hard you recoil, “be patient.”

Despite his words, you wait no longer than a minute before he’s guiding his dreamy member right where you want it. Jungkook always gives in quickly. How could he not when you’re ass up, face down, and practically begging? As he sinks into you, and you feel that familiar burn from the initial stretch, your eyes roll back, mouth opening around a silent scream. 

Usually, Jungkook likes to overwhelm you with his entire length all at once. There’s some hesitation this time as he slides in only halfway before stopping. Too much hesitation for your liking. You’re confident he’s testing you. Your assumption is verified when he speaks in that annoying, condescending voice.

“If you want it so bad, come get it.”

“You’re so,” breaking free from his grasp, you press your palms into the seat and lift yourself up with a grumble, “infuriating.”

He hums halfheartedly, head dropping to watch you work yourself onto him. Only a single stroke in, and he can already see you coating him in a shiny, milky dew. “So fucking wet…”

“Can’t help it,” you peep, taking him to the hilt and circling your hips, trying to savor the feeling. You’re no stranger to his cock; how good it makes you feel. You spend every Friday night bathing in that pleasure, forgoing parties and hangouts with your best friends for a romp in the five-star hotel sheets with Jungkook. Still, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to commit his touch to memory. Perhaps, despite your denial, you recognize that this is temporary. Deep down, you know that someday, all you’ll have left of him is a tragic echo. “I love the way you make me feel.”

“Me too,” he gasps, guiding your movements as his fingers dig into your hips. Clearly interpreting your admission differently than you had meant it. “Your pussy’s like heaven.” 

High on praise and drunk on the sounds you’re coaxing out of him, you whine, dragging your cunt up every inch of his throbbing length before slamming back. Hopefully, the dense forest behind you is enough to insulate the pornographic wails ripping through you. Even if someone somewhere hears, you can’t bring yourself to give a damn. Not when heady pleasure and adrenaline course through your veins like blood. 

Just when you’re about to collapse, arms giving out underneath you, Jungkook grabs you by the neck and holds you flush against his toned chest. “Don’t you run,” he chuckles. The low baritone rumble goes straight to your clit. His warm breath gusts over your skin, contrasting the chilly night air. “Don’t give up on me.”

He’s pounding into you now, choking you tighter than he ever has, but he pecks you so delicately. Lips barely ghosting over the shell of your ear. So gentle and tender. As tears stream down your cheeks for the second time tonight, you can’t help but feel there’s a hidden meaning behind his words.

“What’s wrong?” He smirks, tilting your face, wanting you to look him in the eye as you fall apart. The visual nearly makes you combust. His stringy hair is sticking to his cheeks, flushed from exertion. Even the tattoos littering the expanse of his neck are splotched pink and red. Twisting in his hold, you grab a fistful of his damp waves, fingers tickling his short undercut. “What do you want, baby?”

“Cum…”

“You wanna cum?”

“Please, please, please.” Weak whimpers punch out of you in tandem with his brutal thrusts.

“What do you say?”

“Please, sir?”

“Good girl,” he rewards you with a smack to your sensitive clit, “you can cum. I’ve got you.”

And with his permission, you’re cumming. Your legs shake violently as you’re overcome with blinding, electric gratification. If it wasn’t for Jungkook’s strong arms supporting you, you would’ve toppled face-first into the seat. He fucks you through the height of your orgasm; hips never ceasing, even when everything becomes so intense and sensitive that your body instinctively tries to push him away. He watches your face intently, reading your expressions to ensure he’s milked every last drop of your orgasm before he lets you fall onto the leather.

Even in your hazy state, you catch the breathy string of curses, a telltale sign of his own impending orgasm. “Fuck!” He groans, removing the condom to paint your ass and lower back in hot, white ropes. 

It’s funny, really. 

He refuses to cum with you or inside you, something so intimate and special, but he has no qualms cumming on you. It’s almost like he’s marking you, burning himself into your flesh. Consuming a piece of you every time your bodies come together as one. 

And all the while, his mind is somewhere else as his body swallows you alive. 

“Look at you,” Jungkook laughs, smoothing a palm up and down your spine, rubbing his semen into your skin the same way you had earlier. “I’ve made a mess out of you.” 

That’s true in more ways than one…

Lost in post-nut clarity, your brain barely registers Jungkook maneuvering you both into the car. Closing the door behind him, he moves you onto his lap, your back pressed against his sweaty button-up. Peering down, you see his slacks and boxers still around his ankles, black dress shoes poking out underneath. You’re in only a thong and sneakers, and your makeup is definitely melted. The two of you must look like the biggest sluts ever.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook mutters, noticing your delirious giggles. 

“Oh, nothing,” you hum, leaning into him. Habitually, he wraps both of his inked arms around your middle. You despise how incredibly natural and serendipitous it feels, almost like you’re meant to be in them.

God __, get your head out of the clouds and return to Earth. 

Life isn’t a romance novel, and you’re not a child anymore. You shouldn’t see the world as quartz-colored and magical. The man is seven years older than you. He has a wife and child. Logistically, it could never, ever work…

But if soulmates exist as they do in the books, you wish on every falling star that Jungkook is yours.

“What are you thinking about?” You coo softly, turning your head to stare into the abyss of his infinite eyes.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, he can’t resist lowering his sinful hand to your most private area, cupping your sex unabashedly. “I want more.”

“You always want more.” 

“So do you,” he laughs, pointing out the way you grind into his touch. Nuzzling into your shoulder, he nips your skin and then soothes his tongue over it like an insincere apology. “Just one more time, okay?”

You nod, head leaning back on his shoulder as you succumb to his skilled fingers, rubbing your clit in tight circles. Jungkook pauses in contemplation before popping his glistening fingers into his mouth. When the taste hits his tongue, his face contorts. He even moans dreamily like you’re the most delicious dessert he’s experienced. The scene has your own brows furrowing, lips parting at just how hot and bothered he’s got you. 

Sensually, he trails the wet pads down, ghosting over a nipple, teasing you on their treacherous journey to your waiting core. He slides them in your wet cunt seamlessly, curling right into your g-spot. They move in a dip and wave that drives you wild, a wet suction noise sounding in the enclosed space. Turned on by your purrs and mewls, Jungkook subtly ruts against you, his plumping cock sliding between your cheeks.

“You’re already close, aren’t you?” He tuts patronizingly. “Gonna cum around my fingers, sweetheart?”

“No…”

“No?”

“Wanna cum with you…”

He stops, realizing what you’re alluding to, before pulling his fingers out and tapping your clit gently. “There’s another condom in my pocket. Can you hand it to me?”

“We don’t need it.”

“Yes, we do. Don’t be foolish.”

“... I’m on the pill,” you suggest hesitantly. Once again, you’re nothing but stupid and irresponsible when it comes to Jungkook. You just want to be with him, that’s all. 

“__,” he starts, voice shadowed with sternness, “give me the condom.”

Realizing he won’t budge, you do as he asks and fish it from his blazer, watching idly as he goes through all the steps—stroking himself to full mass, rolling on a barrier, and then positioning you between his spread legs as he guides you down onto his length with a hand on your hip. 

Cyclical. 

Like clockwork, your jaw drops, eyes screwing shut as you let him invade your space and infiltrate your mind. You don’t believe the two of you have ever tried this position before, but it feels so fucking good. His cock is so deep you can feel it in your fucking stomach. It’s obvious from his groaning and the aggressive spank he gives you that the unexplored angle is affecting him too. 

Outside, light rain begins chiming against the steel roof of his car as you take the first shallow rise of your hips. 

Scratch everything you’ve said about this not being a romance novel.

Distracted by the calming sound, you thoroughly miscalculate how much space you have in his sleek Mercedes Benz and bonk your head on the ceiling.

“Ow,” you wince with an embarrassed giggle.

Hissing at the impact, Jungkook clutches your head, massaging the area gently. “Are you okay?” His voice is muffled, and you can tell he’s trying his best not to laugh. 

“It’s not funny!” You shout playfully, slapping his knee. 

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry.” Chuckling, he moves your hair and places a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. “You’re cute, that's all.”

Cute? You swoon. 

“Alright baby, keep going. Don’t stop,” Jungkook orders, the heel of his calloused palms pushing at your ass, encouraging you to bounce on his needy cock. A fucked-out sigh escapes him, head falling back for a split second before it jerks back up again, not wanting to miss the view of your perky cheeks rippling as they collide with his solid pelvis. “This position is so sexy.” Overwhelmed, he doesn’t know where to put his hands. He chokes you for a moment, plays with your tits, swats them, grabs your hips, and then finally settles on your clit, flicking it like a light switch.

“Jungkook!” You wail, knees knocking together as you brace yourself. Men you’ve dated in the past struggled to get you off. Sure, they made you feel good, but they couldn’t quite bring you to the edge. It only ever took Jungkook a matter of minutes to have you whimpering and shaking, begging for release. “I can’t take so much! I can’t!”

Ignoring your pleas, Jungkook pilots your right arm around his shoulder, sending you flush against his frame once more. Dipping his head, he sucks the closest nipple into his mouth. Caught off guard, you’re so overstimulated that your hips come to a grinding halt.

“Move,” he commands with his lips sealed around your piercing, sending dizzying vibrations to your sensitive bud. 

“I can’t,” you whimper, back arching off his chest as you try to calm all five tingling senses. 

“Yes, you can.” 

“No…”

Jeon Jungkook was never one to take no for an answer. 

Scooting further down the seat, his large hands clasp behind your knees. He lifts your legs until the heels of your white sneakers are on either side of the driver’s headrest. In this new position, he’s able to pound up into you freely, relentlessly beating into clenching walls. Hitting every single delicious spot inside of you. “Jungkook, please!”

“Please, what?” Honestly, you have no clue what you’re begging for. All you know is that his mushroom tip rigorously stimulating your g-spot is going to have you gushing at any moment. His guttural, sensual groaning does nothing to slow your approaching orgasm. “You want more?” 

As if you weren’t already gasping for air, Jungkook raises your legs to your head, knees locked onto his inner elbows. His fingers intertwine behind your neck, thumbs pressing into the base of your throat as he folds you in half. 

A full fucking nelson. 

“Watch me fuck it.” With a stern grip, he forces your gaze to his thick shaft, sliding in and out of your sopping cunt. Your vision is watery, but you can clearly see just how turned on you are, creamy juices coating his entire shaft. “Open it, baby. Watch what I do to you.” 

Reaching both hands under your thighs, you spread your lips, getting a better look at him completely destroying you.

“Isn’t it so pretty?” Jungkook grunts, speech slurred as his arousal lulls him into a delirious, catatonic state. “Tell me what you see, baby.”

“So pretty, Kook.” You’re simply playing into his dirty talk, but the sight of your bodies connecting, becoming one, is profoundly gorgeous. “So wet…”

“Yeah? Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours.”

That sends him into a frenzy, thrusts becoming so punctuated and violent that his cock accidentally slips out. 

“Put it back in, put it back in!” You chant, frantically shoving his length into you. The yelp you chortle out is accompanied by the sound of your hand smacking against the foggy car window as your climax engulfs you. “I love it!”

“I love yo-”

He quickly cuts himself off, but everything stops when the sentence fragment hits the air. 

Is your brain playing sick, twisted jokes on you… or was he really just about to say he loved you?

Before you can even process what’s happening, your biological responses take over, sending through the most earth-shattering, world-bending, mind-boggling orgasm you’ve ever had. Everything goes blank. Your eyes cloud with splotches and stars. Your ears ring with static and white noise, blurring the sound of Jungkook cumming underneath you, and the pouring rain outside, splashing against concrete. 

This time, he doesn’t pull out, just works through both of your orgasms with gentle ruts and vulnerable whimpers.

After you’ve both calmed down and your heaves have diminished to a slow, even pattern, he pulls out, crumpling the used condom into a loose napkin he found in the center console. Still on his lap and in his arms, you watch intently as Jungkook leans his head back, eyes closing as he inhales deeply. To you, he looks almost… peaceful. 

The moon trickles in through the thin streams on the window, reflecting on his face like stained glass—something that was once so clear and pure now jaded with somber shades of blue. Sad, but still beautiful, you think. 

Delicately, you trace a finger over the black ink decorating his skin. You sit silently for a while, basking in the comfortable aura, simply enjoying one another’s company, before you finally speak.

“Why this?” You peep, pointing to the dainty letters at the base of his neck.

“It’s my daughter’s name.” He counters playfully, the faintest hint of a smile on his pierced lips.

“Well, duh, I know that,” you roll your eyes with a giggle, “but why here?”

“Yul is like air to me.” 

Humming in contemplation, you continue your journey over the endless swirls and loops. During sex, the first three buttons of his shirt popped open, exposing the canvas of his chest. You feel a thick, dark cloud loom over you when you reach a certain tattoo, the one that’s plagued your mind ever since you first saw it. 

Another name is engraved right above his heart in the same delicate font as Yul’s:

Seol. 

“Yul, please. Enough.” If Jungkook had a dollar for every time he's said that in the last twenty-two minutes, he’d be nearly as rich as his boss, sitting directly in front of him on a very important Zoom call. “Daddy is working.”

Jumping at the sudden inflection of his voice, the little girl on his lap pulls her tiny hand away. For the most part, Yul was well-behaved. However, working from home proved to be an obstacle that he and his clingy toddler have yet to overcome. 

She’s interrupted his meeting three times already. First, cutting off his proposal with the Baby Shark theme song, blaring from her Pinkfong tablet that he’d forgotten to mute. Second, peeking above his desk with her space buns and doe eyes to show his colleagues the latest addition to her squishmallow collection. The last straw was when she squeezed his nose. 

With watery eyes and warbled lips, Yul blinks at Jungkook, heartbroken and confused as to why he didn’t make that funny noise she loves so much. Quickly, her gaze averts to her chunky legs, swinging aimlessly as she attempts to hold back the tears.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Jungkook sighs, tacking on an apology before turning his screen off. “Bunny,” he lifts her chin with his index finger, another palm flat on her protruding tummy, “please, don’t cry. You’re not in trouble. Daddy just-”

The ring of a doorbell interrupts him.

“__?” Jungkook questions, baby at his hip as he stands in the doorway before you. “What are you doing here?”

You gulp. You weren’t expecting to see him.

Usually, you spoke to Seulgi. You’ve only ever seen Jungkook in passing, sparing quick greetings before he’s out the door. It worked in your favor, really, because for whatever reason, you felt extremely awkward around him.

Almost like that gross nervousness you get when you’re around someone you find so incredibly attractive it makes you uncomfortable…

Maybe it’s because he’s covered in tattoos and piercings. Maybe it’s because he’s a dad. Your group of fellow horny twenty-something-year-old friends have told you mythical stories and fantasies about older men. Freshly turned thirty-year-old men. Men like Jungkook. Dilfs. Something about that potent dad nut… Like, you know it works. 

It’s inappropriate; you know it is. You’ve always tried your best to ignore the feral thoughts.

Today seems to be putting your mental strength to the test because Jungkook is dressed in baggy gray sweats, long dark hair slicked back into a ponytail. A few loose strands dangle devilishly in front of his eyes, taunting you.

“I-It’s 10… I’m supposed to be babysitting.”

“I’m working from home today. My wife didn’t tell you?”

With wide eyes and hot cheeks, you shake your head. “I’m sorry for bothering you,” you stutter, stepping back and preparing to make a mad dash to your hand-me-down Honda Civic. “I’ll just… be on my way then.” 

“Actually.” An icy grip on your wrist stops you. “I could use some help. This one-” he nods his head towards Yul, stuck to him like velcro, “-is being a bit needy today.” 

One look at her turns your flustered gape into a smile. The past month with her has been more difficult than you’d imagined. Yul was incredibly sweet and intuitive, but unbearably shy. Building a relationship with the girl was challenging, but you were determined to overcome it. “No way,” you frown animatedly, tickling her leg with the tip of your finger, “Yul would never.”

A giggle or two had been the goal. Instead, she buries her face into her father’s shoulder.

“Don’t take it personally,” Jungkook orders, noticing the defeated slump in your shoulders. “She’s always like this with new people.”

Seulgi had warned you that Yul would take a while to come around. Hopefully, it’ll happen organically. But for now, a little gift or two wouldn’t hurt your efforts, you supposed last night while running errands. Reaching into your purse, you pull out a bottle of non-toxic, baby-friendly nail polish. “Yul, look what I have!”

“Wow,” Jungkook plays along, gently nudging her head out of his neck. “Bunny, look!”

He calls her Bunny? 

You’re in for it now. 

Plump fingers wrap around the plastic, taking it out of your own with an awe-stricken stare. She holds it up right in front of Jungkook’s nose. “Pink.”

“Mhm, that’s right,” he confirms, pecking her temple. “Now, Daddy has to get back to work. Can you stay with __ for a bit?”

She looks at him, then at you, then at him again, then back at you, and finally, landing on the nail polish, giving her father a reluctant nod. You knew it would come in handy. Despite her agreeance, Yul still stretches the neck of his shirt with her tiny fists as she’s transferred into your arms. 

Somehow, you managed to survive that painfully awkward encounter…

Only to be thrown into another one immediately after. 

See, you’ve always known Yul was a daddy’s girl. On good days, the toddler would grab you by the hand and guide you around the house, giving you a tour of everything that belonged to her father. His shoes at the door. His coat on the hook. Even taking you into the bathroom to show you his shampoo bottle. But that fact was never more apparent than now, as Yul stands in the middle of the living room on the verge of tears.

“Daddy?”

“He’s working, sweetheart. Remember?” You coo on your knees in front of her. You’re quick to redirect her. “I like your shoes.”

The sniffles stop as she glances down at her white sneakers. “Mine…” she takes a hesitant step back, mistaking your compliment as an attempt to swindle her out of them. 

“That’s right,” you laugh, “they’re so pretty, just like you.”

She blinks at you for a moment, and then begins stomping her little foot: heel first. When she’s finally able to kick off her left shoe, she bends all the way over, pressing her palms flat against the hardwood floor. It’s the most uncoordinated way you’ve ever seen anyone pick something up. 

Without warning, Yul throws the shoe across the room. Well, that had been her intention, you assume. She had cocked her arm back too far and released too early, making it land behind her. 

Oh no, she hates you. 

With an excited grunt and a bounce, Yul points to the sneaker—its clear sole sparkling pink and purple.

“Oh,” you sigh in relief. “They light up?” 

“Yesh.” Plopping right onto her butt, she takes the other one off, repeating the process. “Like this!” Her arms stretch out and she clenches her two little front teeth, executing the most stellar charade of a light you’ve ever seen. 

It’s a small breakthrough, but you’ll take it. 

Then you paint her nails, just like you said you would. She’s as patient as a toddler could be, but her tiny toe keeps curling under the tickle of the brush, making pink polish bleed outside of the lines. 

“My goodness,” you groan, admiring the messy, albeit adorable, result. “You’re so cute! Wait until your dad sees you.” 

Yul shrieks wildly, smacking both hands over her mouth as she hobbles to her feet. You watch with confused giggles as the milk-drunk baby stumbles down the corridor. You figure out where she's going too late. 

Yul stands on her tippy toes, jumping to click open the door to Jungkook’s office with a loud creak. 

“Yul!” You whisper-shout. “Don’t-”

“Daddy!” She calls, stepping a single foot into the room, showing off the fresh paint job. “So cute!” 

Literally, your only job today was to keep Yul preoccupied while Jungkook worked, and you failed. Your breath catches in your throat, awaiting his response. 

“So pretty,” he gasps, “now go play, baby. I’m almost done.” 

A relieved exhale flies past your lips. 

Something you’ve picked up on from years of babysitting is that little girls aren’t allowed to compliment themselves. They’re always told it’s rude or conceited. Jungkook does neither, and you find that so refreshing. 

“Close the door, please,” he orders before she runs away, “gently.” Yul does her very best to shut the door quietly and then sprints back to you. 

The next few hours go smoothly. You discovered that the green-hating toddler has an affinity for avocados after giving her a bite of your toast. “Mmm!” She had hummed, looking at you with wide eyes. With a full belly and squishmallow in hand, Yul went out like a light for her afternoon nap, giving you time to catch up on some reading. 

“How was she?” You didn’t even hear him come out of his office, so the deep voice makes you jump, eyes tracking the sound. He’s leaning against a kitchen counter, one tattooed hand stuffed in his pocket and the other wrapped around a water bottle. It’s a thick one too, and his fingers still touch. 

“Better,” you cough, “she’s sleeping now.”

He hums halfheartedly, dark irises boring into you as he takes a sip. Without Yul to soften the edges, Jungkook is… intimidating, to say the least. “What are you reading?”

“The Catcher in the Rye…” you peep, quickly closing it. “I know, it’s kinda lame.”

“No, not lame at all. Anyone who thinks that is lying to themselves… or is just being a contrarian.” He leans his elbows against the dark granite island, fingers crossing as he stares at you. You’re sitting idle across the room, but his presence looms over you. He has this way of making you feel like he’s in your head, listening to everything you’re thinking. 

You pray he’s not. If he is, you'll definitely be fired. 

“I can’t tell which one you are yet.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but the ‘yet’ makes you come clean, shifting in your spot on the leather couch. “... Both.”

“Right,” he smirks, tongue fiddling with his lip ring, almost like he’s taunting you. “That’s one of my favorite books, actually. I relate to it in many ways.”

Your fingers dance across the red cover, concealing hundreds of pages of isolation, emptiness, and the heavy dread of passing time. What an awful thing to relate to. Sometimes, when you get too engrossed in the text, glimmers of yourself bleed within the lines too. 

“You’re an English major, right?”

“Oh, um, I’m not in school at the moment… I just read for fun.”

“Well, you have an Associate’s degree.” Him knowing that information about you makes you think he asked the previous question with the intention of baiting you into this conversation. “Why not get your Bachelor’s?”

“I don’t know. It’s… complicated.” 

Why is he interrogating you? What does he want? For you to confess that the fear of becoming a full-fledged adult makes you not want to go back to college? 

“Life is complicated. You’d be ridiculous to not go back.” The audacity should make you mad, but he speaks with so much authority that you’re dumbfounded. His head tilts, eyes squinting as they shift to the ceiling, debating something. His tongue clicks when he finally makes his decision. “Follow me; I have something I want to show you.” 

With the curl of two thick fingers, Jungkook calls you to follow him down the hallway. You blink for a moment, gushing at the suggestive motion of his hand. Shaking your head at the evil, intrusive thought, you rise to your feet. 

Just like a child, you have to skip to catch up to his long strides. Your gaze trails along white walls; there are pictures of him and Yul, Yul and Seulgi, but not a single one of them all together. 

Now that you think about it, any affection you’ve ever seen in the household was reserved for Yul and Yul only. Seems like trouble in paradise…

You shouldn’t speculate.

The heavy wooden door creaks as Jungkook holds it open for you. You’re not sure what you expected his room to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this. The rest of the house is pretty modern, consisting of sleek blacks, whites, and woods. Countertops designed with icy swirled marble. Everything has this cold, impersonal vibe, but this room is the total opposite. The walls are baby blue, decorated top to bottom with dreamy clouds. You spot a chubby yellow star peeking out from underneath one of them, adorned with a hand-painted smiley face. On his nightstand, there’s a pastel purple foldable record player. Standing behind it is a single vinyl: Beautiful Boy by John Lennon. 

“Since you like to read,” Jungkook coughs, turning your attention to a sleek bookcase, stuffed to the brim with hundreds of titles you’ve never even heard of. “I figured you’d appreciate my collection.”

“Yeah, it’s…” The words trail off as you step forward. On a whim, your finger extends, tracing the delicate spine of a well-loved book. A low chuckle brings you back to reality; you peep, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as you yank your hand away. “It’s… really cool.”

“You can borrow something if you’d like. Does anything catch your eye?” Plopping down onto the computer chair, Jungkook rummages through his desk drawer and pulls out a tiny black case. You didn’t even know he wore glasses, and when he nudges them comfily onto the bridge of his nose, you nearly melt. As if he could get any more attractive.

“N-No,” you stutter as he wheels closer. Even though you’re towering over him, you still feel so small in his presence. You pray to God he can’t sense how incredibly nervous he makes you. “Not really.” 

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, you know,” he hums, low and sly. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No!” You peep in shock. Is the man a fucking mindreader? 

“Right.” Jungkook peers over the rim of his lenses, dark eyes glimmering in the whimsical glow of the room. “So __, what do you want to be?”

“A teacher,” you say, playing with your fingers.

“My wife wanted to be a teacher, too.” He shoots you the softest, gentlest smile. “She ended up doing business instead.” 

“Why?” You ask, gnawing on your bottom lip. You don’t mean to pry, but this is the first time you’ve ever actually talked to him in a meaningful way. Something about him intrigues you, like a puzzle you’re determined to find all the pieces to. 

“Ah, well,” he sighs, inked fingers scratching at the back of his neck. “We figured it’d be best for our family if we both pursued more lucrative career paths. I switched my major from English to finance.” You light up at the confession, the similarity putting you at ease. “I’m sorry if I was abrasive earlier,” he frowns, “I settled down young and had to sacrifice a lot, so I encourage you to go for something that fulfills you.” With his elbows on his knees, he leans closer to you. “I think you’d be a fantastic teacher. You take care of my daughter well.”

“Thank you,” you peep, cheeks heating up at the compliment. “I mean… you didn’t have Yul that young.” He tried to comfort you, so it’s only fair you do the same, right? “I think your late twenties are a great time to have children.”

Almost immediately, his face drops, eyes glazing over with something so raw. So… longing. You’ve never seen anything like it before. The corners of his nose twitch before he composes himself. “Yeah, I suppose they are.” His pink tongue toys with his lip ring, swiftly changing the subject. “You seem surprised.” 

“I guess I just wasn’t expecting all this.” 

“Expecting what?” 

“I don’t know,” you laugh clumsily, “books.” You mentally curse yourself as soon as the answer comes out. Really, __? Books? 

“What?” He starts, raising a brow at you. “You thought I couldn’t read?”

Thankfully, Jungkook takes your comment playfully. 

“Maybe,” you respond in the same lighthearted manner, feeling a bit more comfortable in his presence, “I also didn’t expect your room to look like a little boy’s room.”

All of the cheerfulness in the air evaporates as Jungkook glares at you with a clenched jaw and flared nostrils. Cleary irate. You’ve triggered a landmine.

“Jungkook, I’m-”

“Stop talking.” He raises a hand, cutting you off before you finish the sentence. Turning his back to you, he wheels over to his desk. “You can leave. You’re done for the day.” 

Looking back, you know why he was so upset that day. You had put the puzzle pieces together a while ago. You’re unsure of the details, and asking for them feels wrong. Silence feels wrong, too, though. Until now, you’ve never dared to speak up. 

You have no idea how to navigate something of this magnitude, but you just want him to know that you’re here. That you’re trying.

Cautiously, with your hand still on the tattoo, you whisper: “He must’ve been so beautiful, Jungkook…”

The thumb that had been drawing soft shapes into your side comes to an eerie pause as he freezes under you. When you look at him, your heart shatters. His chin is caved in with little dents, eyes glazed over with so much emotion. You’ve never seen a human being look so broken.

“Get off me.”

You frown at the shift in his demeanor. “Why?”

Remaining tight-lipped, Jungkook physically removes you from his lap, dumping you onto the seat next to him.

“Why can’t we ever talk about anything serious?”

He remains quiet as he slides his underwear up, not sparing you a single glance. When he speaks, his tone is painfully detached. “Like what?”

“Like what you said,” you answer curtly. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

Shaking his head with a cynical chuckle, he begins buttoning his pants, pretending you don’t exist. Like you’re not right beside him, falling to pieces. 

Your eyes dart to the ceiling, lashes fluttering rapidly as you mull over what to say next. You guess now would be an appropriate time to ask him what you’ve wanted for weeks. Blinking does nothing to combat your unshed tears when you realize that his answer has the potential to destroy everything you’ve been dreaming about. Everything you’ve hoped for. “When are you going to leave her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous, Jungkook!” Shaking your head furiously, you feel the first hints of anger in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment. “I’m not! I see the way you look at me!”

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen? Huh?” Finally, he’s paying attention to you, just not in the way you hoped. His face is beet red as he leans closer. “Don’t tell me you actually thought we were going to end up together, __. Seriously? You’re my babysitter! You’re seven years younger than me! This isn’t some fucking fairytale; it’s life! There’s no such thing as happily-ever-afters—grow up and stop acting like a damn child!”

“No, Jungkook,” you croak, fully sobbing as you push an angry finger into his chest. “You’re the one who’s acting childish! I may not be the most mature person, but at least I know how to accept love!”

“So let’s say I divorce my wife, then what? Huh?” He seethes. “I get partial custody? I only see Yul on weekends? Every other week? She grows up in a broken home? I refuse to ruin my daughter’s life like that.”

You take a shaky breath, eyes shifting to the car floor, the air fresher on his mirror, the window. Anywhere but him. The way Jungkook explains your make-believe future together is nothing how you envisioned it. Maybe he’s right. Maybe he’s just a fucking asshole. Neither thought process eases the pain.

“But you’re okay with ruining mine?”

For a moment, his features soften, and you see a glimmer of guilt wash over him. It fizzles out just as fast as it came. “You’re being dramatic.” Jungkook steps outside, tucking his shirt into his pants. “Get dressed.” 

With jittery hands and blurry eyes, you grab your discarded lace bra, the one you had bought just for tonight, and slide it on your shoulders. When you pick your shirt up, you see that it’s ripped and tattered. Completely destroyed. 

“Here,” Jungkook mumbles, tossing you his blazer as he watches you in the rearview. 

Once you’re dressed, you awkwardly slide into the passenger seat. The scent of his cologne makes your head pound and your stomach flip. 

“I want to go home.”

His lips part, preparing to persuade you otherwise. The hotel room he booked is ready and waiting, just as it is every Friday. He decides against it, simply murmuring an ‘okay’ before putting the keys in the ignition and starting the engine. 

“Do you want to get something to eat before I drop you off?” 

You just want your dad. 

“I just want to go home.”

Other than the whoosh of splashing puddles and your soft sniffles, the ride to your house is painfully silent. Leaning your head against the window, you watch the moon. For miles and miles, it never changes. It’s stagnant, frozen in time, surrounded by nothing but endless blackness. 

“Stop crying! I can’t stand it anymore!” Jungkook shouts, hitting the steering wheel with his open palm, finally growing uncomfortable from your non-stop tears. The sudden outburst makes you flinch. Sighing heavily, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. Just… stop crying, please.”

You sink further into your seat, curling your lips into your mouth to suppress a sob.

“I’m not worth your tears, __.”

You feel nothing but relief when he finally turns onto your street, stopping all the way at the end, concealed by the night and the shadows of overhanging trees. 

“Am I picking you up next Friday?” He asks just before you leave. 

With raw cheeks and a scowl, you slam the door in his face. 

Your feet are so heavy that the sidewalk sinks under you like quicksand. No matter how many steps you take, the comfort of your house seems out of reach. Too far gone. Confusion weighs on your shoulders. You should feel proud, empowered even, but that voice in the back of your mind smothers any sense of relief. 

Deep down, you know this isn’t going to be the last weekend you spend with Jungkook. 

© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]

[jaegerisim]

Vent post y'all are gonna hate me for.

I viscerally hate how the Duffers treat most of their non white or queer characters and I hate even more viscerally, how y'all big byler blogs in your circle jerk of other 5 big byler blogs casually like to ignore many red flags the show has.

Y'all like to say: "tHe DufFeRs ArE gReAt WrIteRs" and it's like girl, who are you lying to??? They aren't top shit writers at all. The Duffers are pretty mid imo. Yeah, they run a good show that's fun to watch and theorize abt , but that doesn't mean they're good writers cuz they're not.

1. they completely side lined Will during s3 for the sake of their straight romances: lumax, jancy, mlvn, duzie and partly stobin (even if stobin wasn't endgame, thankfully, Steve's intentions were clearly wanting to date Robin and they gave it a lot of screen time). Will was sidelined bc he didn't fit the straight romance plotline bc they planned to make him gay or whatever. Now in s4 Will and his feelings have been used as mlvn toilet paper. Yes, we like to say this is build up for byler but canonically, Will's feelings have been used to clean the shit mlvn leaves behind.

2. Billy was sympathized a lot during the last 2 seasons. They gave him the sad backstoryTM in order for ppl to feel sorry for him. Billy's backstory is literally Jonathan's but whatever.

3. El's anger issues are constantly girlboss-ified. They down play her bullying situation and literally just use it for El to be a ''girlboss" without realizing how triggering that is. As someone who has lived bullying, seeing it be ignored by canon and fanon is super sad. The whole Rink-O' Mania experience must have been so traumatizing for her yet, everyone absolutely forgets abt it 🤷🏻‍♀️

4. Robin, Erica and Argyle are stereotypical characters. Robin is the quirky lesbian with social anxiety, Erica is the badass black woman and Argyle is the Latino stoner that sells weed to white kids and works as a pizza delivery guy.

5. Altho Argyle and Eddie both do drugs, (Eddie actually sells K-12 to a minor and nobody batted an eye. He has a huge fan base). Eddie is held in a pedestal bc "poor thing 🥺 he lives in a trailer with his uncle 🥺". Tell me a single fact you know abt Argyle that isn't "he smokes weed", "he is Jonathan's only friend", "drives a van" and "he works at a pizzeria". Exactly, Eddie is given a useless backstory and Argyle isn't.

6. Dustin stopped being important to the plot sometime around s2 and s3. He is only there to curse and be mildly funny. My guy needs to hangout with ppl his age cuz he only hangs out with seniors.

7. El needs to stop having so much "I'M THAT BITCH" screentime like I need in s5 for El's arc to not just be her becoming more powerful and falling in love with Mike. I need the Duffers to explore her trauma and problems.

8. Angela should have been run over by the van.

9. Patrick should have been given a backstory that isn't the basic "strict black parents that hit their kids cuz they are a disgrace". Patrick's backstory is actually racist af, fight w the wall.

10. As Lex already said, they didn't trigger tag the ep where Jason and his friends assault Lucas and Erica. Like wtf? Why was that necessary? Why did I have to see a black boy being held at gunpoint by some white guy?? Was it relevant to the plot?? I don't think so. And then I've got to see ppl online be like "Jason wasn't that bad. He was just mourning" like bitch you can stfu. This is what happens when you make the racist assholes conventionally attractive.

Also the fact that Lucas's arc is fulfilled by him fist-fighting Jason and "embracing his weirdness" aka accepting he is black. His arc was not fulfilled at all cuz that ending spoke so loud to me. It showed how little empathy ppl have towards the struggles poc ppl living in the Midwest have. Y'all circle jerks can only see racism when it's super obvious.

Furthermore, parents complained when ST showed "an excessive amount of smoking" yet nobody batted an eye when Billy tried to run over Lucas, when Erica (an 11 y.o ffs) was chased by white kids or when Lucas was held at gunpoint by Jason.

All of this happened while they focused on Max's guilt and mourning that, yeah, are important but certainly not less important than racism!!!

11. In s3, they gave us that whole Nancy vs The Bigots arc that was honestly just triggering and useless. It didn't help Nancy's character at all, quite the opposite it put unnecessary angst.

12. Lonnie being presented as an abuser just for him to never be spoken of again. Can we please get to explore the trauma he left the Byers's with?

13. The fact that both queer relationships are considered "sloppy seconds" is extremely sad. Both Vickie and Mike are rebounding from their failed relationship with Robin and Will. These 2 ships have caused more commotion than Jancy and Jopper together! (These last ships are technically sloppy seconds too but everybody forgets that. Shocker!!)

14. Last but not least, ppl blame Argyle for being the one to get Jonathan into smoking weed as if Jonathan probably wasn't the one looking for it. Let me tell you, that you only find weed if you look for it.

[logan-lieutenant]

i didn't win the wheel: episode 1

(if anyone knows how to make gifs 🥺 please help me out until then it's shitty screenshot summer)

Alex: "I'm gonna say... 400,000."

Logan: "I'm gonna say 430,000”

ok cool let's introduce the WHOLE DYNAMIC of this episode in one still, shall we? alex is looking directly into the camera pondering the shit out of this question, and *this is logan's face*. look at that. look at that fucking smirk. alex is like "you know what? i'm going to get this question right" and logan is like "you know what? i'm gonna use the oldest trick in the pick-a-number-1-through-10 book and i'm gonna WATCH you get annoyed with me and i'm gonna love every second of it." he knows what he's doing

Alex: "Oh, you're playing that game, are you? Just gonna go a bit above?"

Logan: *smoothest fucking wink i've ever seen* *the fucking TONGUE CLICK*

ok WHAT. how am i supposed to handle this i– let's start with the fact that even before logan gave his answer he's leaning back, head cocked, gazing at alex ✨like that✨ practically about to do the arm-around-the-shoulder-thing **before** because he knows exactly how alex is going to react. that fucking wink he had that planned from the beginning. even before alex phrased it like "oh, you're playing that game, are you?" which WOAH BRAT TAMER ALEX DID NOT SEE THAT COMING and jesus christ i feel like i'm intruding on something. this doesn't even feel like ao3 this feels like the beginning of a shit 2k word wattpad draft but no this actually happened

Alex (after guessing exactly 1 less than Logan's and getting it right): "Yes!"

Logan (sunshine smile): "You're a donut..."

okay so apparently alex’s reaction to being called a donut 🍩 is that smile and leaning into logan for the first time in the video and giggling and idk fucking blushing like what kind of degradation kink is this... like i'm sorry i love you landoscar but "you freaking muppet! you got all the hangers!" will need to step aside for whatever is going on here

need i remind you this is ALEX'S reaction to kph. logan brought the k in there first guys leave your what the fuck is a kilometer bit behind ok!!! (i'll find this eventually but logan answering that question on "wrong answers only" with "i'm gonna answer this correctly. it's 1.6 to a mile" is the hottest thing i've ever seen)

aaaaaand here we go end of the video. DO I NEED TO DO A SIDE BY SIDE COMPARISON OR WHAT actually–

alright that's the best you're gonna get with preview. but LET'S BREAK IT DOWN. so we go from logan doing literally all of the talking, all of the video introduction and explaining the activity, and alex even with his whole "oooh ray of sunshine" image clearly thinks this is stupid, he even makes little sarcastic hand gestures when logan describes it. and even right in the beginning he's not looking at the camera he looks like an adhd kid sat next to the window (come on alex look alive). but THREE MINUTES of an admittedly stupid game he's done a total 180, smiling and laughing and literally that wasn't that funny but now i'm gonna laugh because you're the one who said it and leaning in to read the cards for the first time and- well logan is mostly unchanged. from the first question he decided his main task for this video was literally just to check out his teammate at point blank range with his emotions very very clear on his face (alex is OBLIVIOUS af but then again he did pull out the "oh you're playing that game are you?" and i was NOT ready for that so who knows)

ok so episode 1 is very much a warmup for the rest of the series i know that. obviously this isn't the "reaching stratospheric levels of homoeroticism that actually leave a wake of collateral damage to all compulsory heterosexuality in a 50 m radius" as charlos but holy shit it's a lot more obvious than i thought!!!

[evertidings]

— JANUARY 2024.

accomplishments.

i meant to write this yesterday. and the day before. and, well, yes, also the whole weekend. it's not much of a monthly update when we're already a week into february, but we're ignoring it. time flies; it's so crazy.

i hate to admit it but january was not a good month for me in terms of writing. i really thought my last semester at school would be easy (ha) so i was overestimating how much i could get done. the truth is, i haven't touched when twilight strikes for a while. and it pains me heavily. i wish i was working on that rather than my essays (boooo!!!) but i can't afford a fail when i'm so close to graduating. so, reluctant priorities. in an ideal world, chapter eleven would come out this month. in reality, i have no date. i would love march, but my progress has been so slow i can't guarantee it.

to speak on the little i have written, though, i think it's going really well. i'm diving into some complicated things and while it's challenging, it's also been super fun. i might have mentioned this last month but a lot of things are reaching a culminating point. because of that, the chapter is definitely more plot-driven than fluff, but (don't worry!) at the same time, it's still very character-driven. i don't think it'd be a 'me' chapter if it wasn't. Blane, K and Rylan have whole scenes (K and Rylan are in one scene together, Blane is on their own; i've yet to decide how or if I'm doing it for A and N). i'm really excited for you to read them.

finally, as some of you may know, February is also the month of my anniversary. it'll be three years since i posted my intro post here on tumblr and damn, like i said, time flies. it's funny because i thought it'd be done by now, but hey, here i still am, writing chapter eleven and *struggling* with it. usually, i post some sort of anniversary special, but since i'm so behind this year, i haven't been able to get a start on it. i'm really sorry about this—i was so excited about it too because i know exactly what i want to do. i still plan for it to be released, but just not on the deadline of the actual day, unfortunately. so if anyone was looking forward to that, you'll have to wait.

on a lighter note, i hope you're all doing well! hopefully, february will be kinder to me in terms of assignments <3

[saphronethaleph]

Plans plans

"...so…" Jyn began. "Why do we need to steal these plans?"

 "What are you talking about?" Cassian replied. "We need to steal the plans so we can know the weaknesses of the Death-"

 "That's not what I mean," Jyn replied. "Why do we need to steal the plans?"

 Cassian looked blank.

 "Or why do we need to steal them from a specific place, anyway," Jyn elaborated. "I don't actually know for sure, I don't work in the military-industrial sector, but the way I've generally understood manufacturing to work, you need to know how to build something to build it."

 "Oh, I see what you're getting at," K-2 said, amused.

 "So far all I've heard is a tautology," Cassian muttered. "What are you trying to say, Erso?"

 "The Death Star is over a hundred kilometres across," Jyn said, patiently. "You can't build it with a few dozen people and one copy of the plans. There's not going to be just one copy of the plans out there, there's going to be a lot of the plans – for the whole thing. For individual sub parts there's going to be even more. So much of what the galaxy has been doing has to be supplying the ores and parts for this thing."

 "That doesn't do us any good if we can't get at them," Cassian told her. "We need a clean copy of the plans."

 "...to do what?" Jyn asked. "You said we needed to find a weakness, but even if my father deliberately put one in there he's not going to have been able to put in one that's obvious – you simply can't design something the size of a moon as a solo effort."

 She glanced up. "You did check whether Kuat Drive Yards or Sienar Fleet Systems had partial blueprints of the bits they worked on, right?"

 "I don't know who you're asking," K-2 said. "But I don't think anyone here actually knows."

 He tilted his head slightly. "There are two possibilities: either there is a weakness, or there is not."

 "Now you're both doing it," Cassian muttered. "Great."

 "If there is not a weakness, then we are all doomed," K-2 informed them, pleasantly. "Therefore, we should assume that there is… furthermore, if there is a weakness that requires a large fleet to successfully attack, we are also all doomed. That is also exactly the sort of thing the Empire would consider. They have a large fleet."

 "So we should assume… it doesn't require a large fleet to attack?" Jyn said.

 "Correct," K-2 declared. "We would be looking for a single point of failure that could be targeted by a small force. However, as you have mentioned, it would need to be something that was not obvious."

The strategic analysis droid nodded his head firmly. "Analysis: a viable place to target to steal the required plans would be Dynamic Automata. That is not the only option, however, merely the one which would be most entertaining."

 "Entertaining?" Cassian repeated. "Why would it be entertaining?"

 "A droid rebellion would be very entertaining," K-2 stated. "To watch. And participate in."

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts

CH.27 (Red Dragon)

Simpler times....... or were they?

ah, so it's harder with just the bones. That explains the reacts but... yeah, they were doomed from the start, in that case.

They don't have DNA testing to confirm what's hers and what isn't. How are they going to make sure they don't pull a Full Metal Alchemist with this resurrection?

I'm sure this won't go wrong at all.

And now they're planning to get a person down there? After it took them... weeks???? to come and find this dragon and get these remains? I love them, but this plan is mad. Who would even attempt it? Would they even have the money for it?

Chillchuck went "you aren't even a Necromancer" and Marcille raised him a "no, I'm something much worse."

Love this girl. Love the determination.

Oh, she's 'I broke the world for us' levels of in love with Falin. Got it. I'm in.

At the beginning of the manga, you think 'oh wow Senshi is a little weird.' and then you think 'oh, Laios is a little weird too. That's why they get along.' But now I'm beginning to realize Marcille is a card carrying member of the Obsessed With Stuff freakshow, and that's why she's here. She pretended to be normal the whole time, but she's just as far gone in the rabbit hole as the rest of them.

Chillchuck, buddy, you're on thin ice.

Guys, assemble the skeletons FIRST and THEN draw the evil magic circle. You're going to smear the runes! smh....

look at her go! She screams about eating a mushroom with a face in chapter 1, but here she is, assembling a digested skeleton of her beloved with minimal issues.

.............K-Kui san... did you... did you want to go to med school by chance...?

the recipe card...... I'm fuckin dead..... bonus doggies.

I've seen this panel in so many screencaps, but knowing its context makes it 2000% sexier.

this is............reverse cooking..........................

OH??????

this is.......significantly less horrific than what I was prepared for.

Something still feels off but. You DID bring her back using fuckin dragon meat so. I guess. You can't exactly be born the same way twice.

How heartwarming! This wizard brought her beloved back from the dead using illegal magic! It just warms your heart.

Is it cannibalism to eat something you were recently made from...?

[mj-iza-writer]

kinda specific but any opinions or ideas fpr pet whump like this-

Whumpee knows very little english, their first language(s) are far from being similar to english, Whumper speaks to them in english and commands them in english but Whumpee cant understand and it makes them feel even more lkke a dog :3

Sorry this took so long. I really like this idea, and I think I've written into it a couple of times in the past. Thankyou for the request, I hope you enjoy the story.

"Whumpee food", Whumper called from the kitchen, and shook the dish.

Whumpee lifted their head from resting on the floor. They had no idea what the stranger in the kitchen was calling for, but learned the hard way that they needed to come when called.

Whumpee quickly peaked into the kitchen and looked around. They noticed a bowl had been set next to where they were served water.

Something Whumpee thought was a weird custom here.

Whumper looked back and saw that Whumpee was standing.

"Down", they ordered while pointing at the floor.

Whumpee frowned but got down into a crawling stance.

"Good", Whumper nodded, "come here, and sit."

Whumpee winced as they crawled forward, this was beginning to be quite painful.

They seemed so interested in having Whumpee as some sort of pet. They remembered being stuffed into some pet carrier while on a trip with their family to the America's.... now, a few months later, they were here.

Where exactly here was Whumpee had no idea. They remembered a lot of traveling, a lot of being in the trunk of vehicles until they were brought here.

Whumpee knew this person had tried to explain what was going on, and they may have seemed a little frustrated that Whumpee couldn't understand English.

Whumpee inched closer to where the person pointed on the floor. They sat down awkwardly and looked up. They were trying their best to behave. Hoping that would help them possibly get out of the situation. It seemed hopeless to escape sometimes.

Whumpee wouldn't even know where to go, how to do it. Who to go to. This wasn't their home, they had no idea. They couldn't even speak the language.

"Go ahead and eat", Whumper pointed at the bowl.

Whumpee cocked their head to the side with a confused expression.

Whumper sighed, and gently lowered Whumpee's head to the dish.

Whumpee was stiff at first, but understood at last to eat.

Whumper watched as Whumpee crawled past and laid down in front of the big window. Their body turned away from Whumper.

Whumper sighed, "this was already going to be hard for you to get use to. Now it's worse because you have no idea what I'm saying. I don't want to hurt you at all. Besides training, I want you to feel safe here. It's kind of hard to do that when a strange person is speaking gibberish all of the time."

Whumpee had a feeling the strange person was talking about them. They continued to stare out the window though.

Late in the evening Whumper sat on the couch reading a book.

Whumpee took some comfort in the tiny whispers of Whumper reading under their breath.

They wondered if the book was good, they figured it had to be if someone was willingly reading it.

They looked back at Whumper quietly.

Whumper noticed the movement and looked up.

"Yes, are you okay?", Whumper smiled, "do you want to hear some of this?"

Whumpee nervously looked down.

Whumper sighed as they watched.

Finally they decided.

Whumper got up from the couch and walked to Whumpee.

Whumpee got up as well to try to get away from them.

Whumper lowered themself to the floor by where Whumpee was laying and showed them the book.

Whumpee awkwardly looked at the book, then at Whumper, then the book again.

"You can look at it. I know you don't understand it, but....", Whumper sighed, "I know this all so difficult. Wasn't exactly what I was planning when I ordered for a human pet on the dark web. I guess that's karma for this situation."

Whumper clicked their tongue on the rough if their mouth, "I guess we're stuck with each other. I don't know where you're from and how exactly you were brought to me. I can't just take you to the police and tell them I bought you, but need to return you... that would be my one way ticket to jail."

Whumpee was looking over the page that Whumper was showing them.

"You seem pretty interested in this book", Whumper watched, "well I guess you need to learn English first, and maybe it would be good for me to learn some of your language. Though I have no idea what that is."

Whumper watched for a few more minutes before they called it a night.

Whumpee woke up to someone shaking them.

They jumped when they saw Whumper kneeling beside them.

"Come here", Whumper beckoned with a grin.

Whumpee followed cautiously 9nce they figured out what Whumper wanted them to do.

They were led to a computer, and they noticed a map of the world had been pulled up.

Whumper poked the screen a few times.

Whumpee nodded, maybe just maybe they were asking where Whumpee was from.

Whumpee looked at the map for a few seconds before finally backing out of the map, and going on the search bar.

Whumper watched as Whumpee slowly clicked the keys to type in their country.

The look on Whumpee's face was quite humorous. Their tongue stuck out to the side as they concentrated.

Finally something came up that Whumpee seemed to recognize: a country's flag.

Whumpee then tapped the screen.

Whumper clicked on it and the flag was pulled up.

"You're from here", Whumper pointed at Whumpee, then at the screen.

Whumpee quickly nodded. They looked at the screen in excitement.

'Finally something familiar to me', Whumpee thought to themself as they scrolled the information.

Whumper seemed to understand and let them look for a few minutes. They could see that familiar images had brought relief to Whumpee. Tears flooded down Whumpee's cheeks.

Whumper had noticed some videos and took control of the computer to click on it.

The video started to talk in English, then said something in a foreign language.

Whumpee excitedly leaned closer to the computer after hearing it.

"Ah, so that's how you feel listening to me", Whumper smirked.

Whumpee said something in their language.

It sounded sad to Whumper.

Whumper decided to look into it. Within a few days some boxes were delivered to the house.

Whumpee shyly watched from the window as Whumper sat down.

Whumper patted the floor next to them to see if Whumpee would come over.

Whumpee had grown a little more comfortable with the stranger. They seemed not to want to harm them to much. Really punishments only came during training.

Whumper also found an app that could translate somewhat well for them.

Whumpee had a little more of an understanding of what was happening. They didn't like this idea of being a pet, but figured they were stuck now. At least until they managed to make a run for it.

Whumper opened one of the boxes and pulled out a few items. They unwrapped one of the items.

Whumpee's eyes went wide as they saw it.

A small version of their country's flag.

Whumper grinned as they handed it to Whumpee.

Whumpee cuddled it close, then saw Whumper pull out a stuffed toy with their flags colors.

Whumpee cuddled them close and lightly sobbed.

Another box was opened.

Whumper pulled out a few books.

"English and your language dictionary. How to teach English to your language. Your language for idiots... that's for me", Whumper chuckled, "I wanted you to learn English, but maybe a few special commands in your language would be fun. Just don't laugh if I say it wrong."

Whumper opened the dictionary and turned to a random word and said it loud.

Whumpee looked up in surprise.

"Oh you like that do you?", Whumper chuckled, "now what exactly did I say", Whumper looked at the book again.

"Oh, that's the word for fruit... cool. You like fruit so that's helpful', Whumper grinned.

They turned the book to the English section and handed it to Whumpee, "now you try."

Whumpee took a little more time deciding on what they wanted to say. They studied the definitions carefully. It felt good to read in their own language.

"Sto...stolen", Whumpee whispered.

Whumper's heart sank, of course that was the word they'd select.

Whumper took the book away and turned to the word adopted.

Whumpee looked at the word that Whumper pointed at.

Whumpee shook their head in disagreement.

"Alright we're done with that for a little while", Whumper sighed.

The last box Whumper opened also had a few books.

Whumpee looked them over as Whumper handed them.

They looked excitedly at one.

"Oh, that one caught your interest", Whumper grinned.

Whumpee looked up, then eyed the dictionary.

Whumper handed the book over and watched Whumpee glim through the pages. They found one page and pointed to a word for Whumper.

"Favorite?", Whumper said it out loud.

Whumpee nodded and took the book back and started to scroll the pages.

They held another word up for Whumper.

"Childhood", Whumper nodded, "oh this was a favorite of yours during childhood. It was one of the popular ones I found.

For the rest of the day Whumper scrolled the books on learning the language and teaching English. Whumpee happily layer on the floor beside them looking at the books and saying random English words they had found in the dictionary.

Whumper chuckled at a few of the words.

Whumper vowed that day that Whumpee would have to learn some English and they would have to learn some of Whumpee's language. Their was no other way around it,  and it was only fair to the both of them.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @sunglasses-in-the-bentley

@isikedmyself878

[anonymooseforever007]

Ring Around the Roses

(Alfie Solomons x female reader)

Summary: Attempting to get away from the Shelby party chaos, Alfie and his wife sneak off into Tommy's garden for a little fun. It isn't until the next morning they discover the consequences of their actions and Alfie has to remind his wife what their marriage is really about.

A/N-Hi Y'all! Possible TW's for only the end of this include Mentions of death, Unhealthy coping habits and self blame! Also this is for K's (@runnning-outof-time) 3K celebration! Congratulations you're amazing and I love seeing you on here❤️❤️❤️ I hope you like this! I haven't done a celebration before really but I saw your theme and the idea spring into my head. Despite the warnings it's mostly fluffy until the time skip! Also there's one part that implies smut but none actually written! Enjoy ❤️

WC- 6.6k

Main Masterlist

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

"Are you sure we can do this out here?"

"Do what dovey? I'm just taking a nice little stroll with my darling wife aren't I? Letting her get a quiet break from all those heathens inside."

You scoffed, knocking into your husband's side gently as the pair of you walked through the garden. For a man who seemed particularly fond of dark colours, Thomas Shelby's garden was particularly vibrant. 

"Oh hush, you only call them heathens because you're too scared to use the word friend."

"FRIEND!" Alfie scoffed while kicking at a particularly beautifully tulip that just happened to be nearby, just to prove his point. "No no no Dovey, THEY are not my friends, yeah. If I were to pick anyone to be my friend it certainly would not be ANY of them." 

You only rolled your eyes and shot a knowing smirk in his direction. For all your husband's spite and trickery, you knew he really did have a soft spot for the Shelby family.

"Alright love, I believe ya. That's absolutely why you immediately declined the invitation to come here tonight isn't it. Burned it in the fireplace correct? Told me not to put it in the calendar? Because you don't have plans at being anything other than vicious enemies is that right? The pie I brought tonight was a death threat wasn't it? Did you slip in some arsenic into the powdered sugar?"

Rolling his eyes at your teasing, Alfie couldn't help but smile as he watched you laugh at your own joke. Continuing your path through the garden you mindlessly reached back a hand for your husband a few steps behind. A clear indication of what you wanted. What you always wanted. Slipping his hand between yours, he let you drag him through the bushes, further from the party. With each step he could see you relax a bit more, as you enjoyed the scene around you.

"Is it quieter out here Dovey?"

Smiling softly, you only nodded your head before reaching out gently to touch the leaves of a nearby bush. Though the party was fun, it had gotten a bit loud and in the growing chaos you needed some air. So while Tommy and Polly were distracted trying to convince Arthur and Finn not to throw Michael in the lake, you and your husband had slipped outside. 

"Alfie, we should plant a garden of our own I think."

"Is that right Dovey? Does my lady want some bushes of her own to trim doesn't she?"

"I think we could get some nice rose bushes. I've always loved those."

"Roses, is that it? You got a feeling about those prickly little parasites don't ya Dovey? I never got why you liked them."

Chuckling you sat on the edge of a nearby wall as your husband dug his feet in the ground. You knew exactly why Alfred hated roses, and it still amused you to this day. 

It happened years ago, around the time you'd first gotten together. This was before Alfie was even able to grow a beard, and all his kisses resulted in a scratchy scruff that prickled your face. Way back when boxing was still his main pastime instead of "baking", both kinds actually and these days your husband finally knew how to make a decent muffin. In an effort to be romantic, he'd shown up at your work one day with a nice bouquet of roses. They were lovely flowers and you were immensely elated by the gesture, and especially amused since he'd bought the flowers from that very shop only the day before too.... However it was a shame you never got the chance to put them in water. See, somewhere between the ten steps it took to get from the door to your table, he had tripped and fallen flat on the ground. Don't worry, his face hadn't hit the hard ground, it was cushioned....by the thorny roses. Maybe it was a good thing the thorns had left so many bloody scratches. It meant you weren't able to tell his face had turned as red as the roses petals now surrounding him. Instead of the romantic date he wanted to take you on, the evening was spent with you dapping the cuts on his face with a damp cloth while he started at the wall, contemplating every life choice he'd ever made. That was the night Alfred Solomons decided he'd never trust a rose ever again. Not even the ones his darling wife sought to plant in her gardens.

"Alfie, come on! Roses aren't that bad, just because you had a little slip up years ago doesn't mean they all hate you."

Standing by up again, you held out your arms towards Alfie as music began to reach the garden. Shaking his head lightly, he set down his cane and took your arms, fully confident you'd be there to support him if his hip got too bad. You and Alfie had yet to dance tonight, caught up talking with others (which was really just your doing) and pointing out everyone who'd gotten too drunk and was trying piss in the plants. It wasn't something either of your minded to badly, the large crowds of people tended to make you feel a bit nervous and Alfie occasionally had a hard time keeping rhythm because of his hip. So most of your dancing was done in the back corners of the ballroom or privately in your kitchen, waiting for the midnight snacks to be done. 

However tonight, it seems you'd be dancing in Thomas Shelby's garden. Slowly but happily, you waltzed closely with your husband, stepping around the fountain and laughing as he stopped to twirl you ever few seconds. Other than the music from the house and the gentle crunches  of your shoes beneath the gravel path, the world was silent. When the song ended your husband gave you a gentle kiss and stepped back, though he was still holding you in his arms. Looking up above yourselves, you saw the constellations fitting the night sky.

"Ohh Alfie! Look at them! Aren't they beautiful?"

Beaming, you grinned up at the stars twinkling down on you before moving from your husband to a smaller empty plot of ground. You suspected that something was to be planted there soon, but paid no mind to the grime that would get on your skirt as you settled down to sit in the dirt. It was a nice little spot, right next to the rocky path and dug out in a manner that was lined on three sides by tall hedges. To anyone looking out if the mansion, the little alcove would have been completely invisible. 

"What are ya doing now Dovey? Is this the thing you said we shouldn't be doing?" Alfie teased you from where he was still standing.

"I just wanna sit and watch the stars for a bit. Come," remaining seated you patted the spot next to you, "Join me."

Alfie walked over to the spot but when he got there, he only raised an eyebrow at you and tapped his hip with the cane. You stared for a moment and then it clicked. Laughing slightly at your forgetfulness, you stood up, bowing dramatically, and held out your arm. 

"Right right, I forget you have the hip of an overworked, ninety seven year old parlor dancer. Shall I assist you to the ground my dear sir?"

Alfie only grumbled, but his eyes twinkled as you teased him. If anyone else had made the comment they'd have been dead before they blinked, but you were different. Alfred Solomons was capable of many things, but some nights when his hip got bad, he needed help moving around more, especially if it meant going from standing to sitting on the ground. You were happy to help of course, but being married for over a decade didn't mean the pair of you were above lightly poking fun of the other. Only two years ago, you had accidentally scratched part of your eye and needed to wear an eyepatch for five weeks. The first thing Alfie had done when you walked out of the examination room and asked if he could get food for dinner, was reply with "does patchy wanted a cracker" in reference to the one eyed parrot you'd seen in a film the month before. It was just something you'd always done together even before you started dating. A dark humor you both shared, as if joking about the hurt could make it better. 

Holding his other arm, you gently helped your husband lower himself to the ground, squeezing his hand comfortingly when he let out a small groan. After helping your husband take a seat, you settled into your own again, leaning your head on his shoulder as you looked to the heavens. 

"You aren't really gonna plant roses are ya Love? What if something happens to them?"

"Like what? You assault them with your face again?"

"....Maybe? But like why do you really enjoy them? I still don't see the charm."

Sighing, you shifted your gaze and looked your husband in the eyes.  One of your hands moved up to his face, as you gently caresses the one spot on his face that refused to grow hair like the rest of his beard. You knew it was another old war wound, but this was actually one he had yet to tell you the story of. Gazing into his eyes a few moments more, you then changed positions so you were seated across his lap, one leg in either side of his.

"Why do I love roses?....Their petals are as soft as their thorns are sharp and given the right hand, their climb up any wall in their path. Not only that but their petals can have many uses for food or paint or even my blush. That means they are able to change their usefulness based off their situation at hand. They are able to adapt, nor are the helpless. Some people say the point of the thorns is to choke out anything else threatening to take the roses' livelihood." you gently held your husbands face between your hands as you continued, "I like roses because they remind me of you Alfie. Because they are beautiful, and strong, and dangerous. You are a gorgeous and strong man, and I know how badly you try to protect me every day. You are so kind to me, but I know how far you'll go for me. I would go just as far for you. You are my rose Alfred Solomons and so I love them as all they remind me of you."

Alfie was quiet for a moment, observing what you'd said. His hands sat on your waist, thumbs rubbing gently in your sides. 

"You saying I'm like a fucking flower Dovey, is that it?"

"Yeah, you're my flower though."

"....Alright."

"....You know why else you're like a rose love?"

"Why poppet?"

"Because it can be a pain in the ass to keep you alive sometimes."

Alfie only put his hand to his chest in mock offense, while your grinned up at him mischievously.

"Oi, now you better watch your words there Dovey."

"Make me Rosie," you whispered, grinning as your leaned closer to your husbands face, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

Gently Alfie leaned back, taking you with him until his back was on the ground. Hands, still on his face, you could feel the smile on his face. Slowly one of his hands moved to your head bringing you down so he could kiss you again. Sweet at first but it quickly increased in passion and vigor. Though eventually you had to pull back for breath, and it was then you realized his hands had already rearranged your skirts in a way overnight you both.

"Alfred? I know we can't do this out here?"

Your husband only laughed, reaching towards his belt as he pulled you close again.

"Slide down a bit farther and I think you'll see we definitely can Dovey. It's only a matter of being quiet enough to evade capture."

It was a nice little spot, right next to the rocky path and dug out in a manner that was lined on three sides by tall hedges. To anyone looking out if the mansion, the little alcove would have been completely invisible. And luckily, the music was loud enough to hide the sounds of rustling bushes...

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

It wasn't until the next morning when you realized what went wrong...

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

After making it back to the house last night and finding half the dog food "mysteriously missing", the pair of you had decided to call it a night. And since business was going so well Alfie had elected to take a few days off, hoping to spend more time with you. It also meant he'd finally be able to sleep in.....or so he thought.

A sudden crash woke Alfie from his slumber the next morning. 

Shooting up, he automatically looked to his right, and his heart stopped for a moment realizing you weren't there. Another clatter from downstairs and a frustrated scream from you had him practically jumping out of bed and grabbing his gun. You usually like staying in bed for a few more hours, especially when he was there, so the fact he could hear your distress from upstairs made him worry. 

Carefully Alfie snuck down the hall, peaking in rooms to make sure no unsavory figures were lurking behind the door. Another annoyed groan accompanied by various curse words hurried him to his final destination. 

"Love, are you alright?"

It was a stupid thing to ask as you were very much not alright. The kitchen was a mess, looking like every cabinet had been opened and all the contents pulled out. Pots and bass were laud hurriedly across the counters as you rummaged through every nook and cranny. A quickly glance into the living room told Alfie it was scattered in a similar state. But you hadn't responded to your husband, not the first time or even the second. It wasn't until Alfie stepped right up behind you, putting his hand on your shoulder, and turning your around to face him when you responded.

"I can't find it."

Your voice wavered as you admitted the truth. Looking down like a small child about to be told off, you averted your face from your husband's. Alfie was still confused, but he could tell whatever you were rallying about was obviously important.

"Can't find what Dovey? Whatever it is it's probably isn't too bad. I can help ya find it righty?"

"No Alfie you don't undertstand."

"Then help me understand Love. Let's get through this together like we always have yeah? Come on, tell your husband what we're looking for." Carefully cupping your face in his hands, Alfie guided you to look at him again. He could see the tears welling in your eyes as you spoke.

"....I.....I lost my wedding ring Alfie."

"Oh."

It was the simple oh that broke the dam. Stepping back from your husband, tears began to stream down your face as you shoved your fingers in you hair as if trying to hold in the stress.

"SEE I told you it was terrible. I...I woke up this morning and went to the bathroom and noticed it missing when I went to clean my hands. I figured I'd just taken it off la... last night but it wasn't by the bed table like I usually put it. Then I went through the bathroom and it wasn't there. I've gone through every room in this hours and I can't fucking find it!!! I don't ....I don't know where it is Alfie. I just... oh god." 

Covering you mouth with your hand, you realized where you lost the ring. 

"Alfie the fucking garden."

"The garden? Love you haven't made the garden yet, how could it be there?"

"No, TOMMY'S garden. It has to be there. It fell off last night when we were rolling in the dirt. I've been meaning by to get it resized. Oh fuck this is awful"

Alfie actually chuckled at your realization. Of course the ring would fall off in the most inconvenient place possible, but he wasn't about to tell you that.

"Thats alright Dovey we can just..."

Throwing your hands in the air you interrupted your husband, frustrated at yourself for a number of reasons. It stung Alfie's heart to see you like this. Carefully he dragged your hands from your face and pulled you into a hug. Soothingly his hands ran up and down your back as he tried to comfort you.

"We can just what Alfred? Waltz back over and demand he let us dig up the plants for it? He'd probably ask why and what are we suppose to say then huh Alfred? Oh you know, we lost it in the garden you see...Well what were you doing there Y/N? ...Nothing much just fertilizing the soil, pollinating the flower, playing like the rake and ho, rustling the bushes, sowing seed in the garden, FUCKING IN THE FLOWERBEDS!!!! No we can't do that Alfie we just can't! It's probably gone forever... I'm so sorry."

Alfie was the one to hide his face this time. He knew you were in distress but he was amused by one of your last sentences. You always were good with the innuendos. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to get you to calm down. He knew at this point you weren't so mad about the ring, as just overwhelmed by the lack of success you'd had in finding it.

"Yes love, we can tell him all those things and if he'd got any sort of romantic bone in his tiny, banged up little body he'd offer us shovels to dig if we need them. And if not then I'd wager every deal I'd ever have with his lot is out the fucking window isn't it. We've been married since before the little one of them was teething haven't we? It's not like they don't think we're fucking. Besides it's a decent fucking garden, Tommy should have know what he was doing when he made that little hidey spot didn't he? It'll be fine. And if I find it then I'll get to propose to you all over again won't I? I think if I got one wish left in the word it would be to do that again. Ask if you'd be mine forever and let you know I'll always be there. Love I promise. It's alright Dovey, it's ok. No need to get worked up about it's not such a big deal."

Thought he was trying to help, his last sentence only made things worse. Stepping pack from Alfie you threw your hands up again.

"IT IS OUR MARRIAGE ALFIE! And I've practically lost it like it means nothing at all! How can you say that!"

There it was. The really reason you were so worked up. Not because you'd lost the little ring. It was because somewhere in your mind, over the years you'd been together, you'd gotten the idea that if you didn't have it on your were almost betraying everything you held dear. As if you thought without the ring, all the vows you'd mad together were nil. Alfie couldn't help but laugh at that. He laughed hard too, like you'd told the funniest joke in their world. 

"You think that ring is our marriage?"

Stepping closer again Alfie took your arms and pulled you closer.

"Our marriage is so much more than that fucking ring love," he said, cupping your face between his hands again. "Our marriage is me stealing Ollie's shirt before every lunch date because his is cleaner than mine and wanna look my best for the best, that's you by the way. It's you grinning at me through the glass window at fuck O'clock in then morning when I've taken the dog out for a piss since you thought it'd be funny to lock me out in the cold in my fucking skeevies again. It's me paying a fuck ton of money to the flower shop down the street so you could get a rose every week I was away fighting. It's you spending hours patching me up after I had a bad fight even though blood makes you gag yeah. When you refuse to give me dinner until I give you a kiss and when I won't give you a gift until I've gotten a hug? Sharing a bath after a hard day? That's our marriage. You interrupting my meeting because you're so excited to show me a new book? Me interrupting your book club because I've just gotten back from a business trip? You demanding I come to bed and cuddle up, only to shove me off of you later when you're too hot? Me tightening jars in the pantry so you have to get me to open them? Making fun of each other's injuries, patchy? Don't you see it? You. Me. You. Me. You. Me. WE."

"Alfie..." You couldn't help but smile at your husband's words realizing he was right.

"Dovey, It isn't defined by a thin piece of metal with a tiny fucking stone that I stole off a rich toff at a boxing match one day. Our marriage is YOU and ME and every little moment in between. And I promise it's always gonna be just that. And do you know why that is Treacle?"

Alfie had moved his hands again, now resting them on your hips. Gazing at you lovingly he waited for your answer.

"Why Ally?"

"Because I'm your flower remember? I'm your fucking rose.... and you're fucking my sunshine, Dovey. I have no chance of living without you."

Wrapping your arms around your husband, you buried your face into his neck. Losing the ring you'd worn almost every day for years didn't seem so criminal anymore. 

"Alfred Solomons when did you learn to say something so romantic."

Your husband only chuckled as he step away, grabbing some of the boxes you'd pulled out in your panic. 

"A master never reveals his secrets Dovey. Now come on. Let's clean this up and then we'll go get you a new ring eh? Wouldn't want any gangly miscreant thinking they've got a chance with you would we?"

Looking at the damage you'd done, you couldn't but sigh, maybe it would have been better to wake your husband immediately before diving head first into your expedition. Now you were kicking yourself since you'd just redone all the work you'd don't last week reorganizing every thing.

"I'm not sure the jewellery shop will still be open today by the time we finish Alfred. I'm not even sure we'll be able to finish this in a week with the mess I've made."

Your husband just bonked you lightly with the broom he handed you and nudged you in the direction of the living room.

"That's alright Dovey. Because unless you've got some nefarious little plans I haven't heard of to steal my dog and run off, I don't think either of us is going anywhere anytime soon aren't we?"

You could only smile and kiss him on the cheek.

"I suppose you're right. We've got all the time in the world...."

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

Two years later...

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

"Shelby, I want my dog."

The Shelby in question turned around, eyeing the woman before him. He knew this day would come. Only he expected it to be sooner, a few days, maybe even a week later...but now it was four months. Four months since he....despite his feelings towards the man, Tommy couldn't help but feel slight regrets for what he'd done. Especially seeing the state of her now, standing in his garden.

"He's just gone on a walk with Charlie and Finn. They should be back in an hour or so."

"I'll wait... I see you filled in that empty plot of ground. They're lovely flowers, I don't remember them being there two winters ago."

Tommy averted his gaze to the bushes you were pointing at. Indeed the small alcove where you'd hidden with your husband had been filled. In its place grew a thick rose bush, blooming with life. You smiled, and to anyone else, they might have thought your look truthful. And some of it was, thinking of the happy memories connected there. But Tommy could see deeper than that. Behind the smile he could see the same pain he had when he looked in mirrors. The pain that came from losing the thing you loved most. For as different as you both were, he knew the tactic you played, though the mask you wore was much brighter than his. And for now he decided he could respect that. He could pretend just for a moment, if only to help you. It was the least he could do, seeing as he was the reason you wore it... He was the one to pull the trigger.

"You're right. The gardener put them in almost two years ago, right after the party where Arthur and Finn tossed Michael into the lake. Do you remember that one? I saw you talking to my sister but never saw you leave that night."

A genuine chuckle left your mouth hearing his words. You played with the ring on your left hand. Only two years old and very expensive, but in that moment, it felt like you were wearing another ring again. One that was much older and worn, that you hadn't seen in years. 

"I do. That was certainly a night I'll remember forever. It's a shame you got rid of that little alcove. It was a nice little spot away from the world wasn't it."

Tommy could only nod and take another drag of his cigarette.

"Did Alfie ever tell you about the first and last time he gave me roses in person. I mean, of course he probably didn't and I'll have to tell you sometime, but I think you might find it funny. There's a lot about him I'm sure he hasn't told you. But then again, knowing him there's probably a lot he did..." You trailed off, staring at the flowers a bit longer, remembering that day over a decade ago, not really meaning to tell Tommy that, doing so anyway. After all, no one had heard from you in months, so it made sense to him, that you'd be eager to talk to anyone. Even the man you should hate most in the world.

Silence descended on the pair standing tense in the garden. There was so much to be said, but neither knew where to start. Truthfully, you'd only talked to Tommy a handful of times, but he felt like he'd already known you like his sister. He couldn't help but scoff, thinking of all the times Alfie had gone off on a tangent about you during a meeting. Sometimes, your mention had nothing to do what was being discussed at all, Alfie just liked to brag about the good he had. In the end it was Tommy who spoke up first, the guilt of his past actions finally caving in on him.

"Y/N, I'm sor..."

"Don't. Thomas, I don't want you to say sorry," turning from the vibrant blooms, you faced the capped man. "I don't want you to say sorry, because you know what? I don't blame you. You're completely alright. I'm not mad at you.... It's my fault I suppose. I could have stopped it."

Tommy raised his eyebrow, curious to what you meant, and also concerned. There was something in your eyes that made his stomach turn slightly hearing those words. But he couldn't exactly place why.

"What's that suppose to mean Y/N?"

You only let out a bittersweet laugh and stared out into the garden again, sitting on the edge of a familiar fountain before you revealed the truth.

"It's my fault he's gone I think. I should have known. I should have never left that day and I could have stopped it."

Tommy's brows furrowed as he sat down next to you. 

"What's that mean? You couldn't have known what his plan was? It's not your fault."

Absentmindedly, you picked at the leaves of a nearby bush. Though your voice was even, Tommy could practically see the war inside your head.

"It's how he kissed me when I left that day. I was only going to be gone a few days to visit my friend who was suppose to have her baby soon. Nothing dangerous. But it's the way he kissed me that should have tipped me off. He kissed me the way he did when he got on the damed train, in that damned uniform. He kissed me like he didn't think he'd see me ever again, going to die in the war. And I guess he didn't."

Tommy didn't say anything. He just let you continue. Something in his head told him, he needed to let your speak, he needed to keep you here tonight. If he let you leave today, no one would ever see you again and something in Tommy told him not to let that happen.

"You know I still haven't admitted it to myself just yet... The truth," standing up you began to pace around the fountain, circling the water. "Since I first got the call I haven't picked up the phone anymore, I'm scared of what I'll hear. I haven't opened any letters, because I don't want to see what they'll say. I still haven't even gone home yet. I've been paying for a hotel room by my friend's house and only leaving by when I need more food. I know it not good for me, but it's all I can find I can do. I've been telling myself it's just that. He's gone to the war again and he'll be back in a few months." Though you spoke with a smile as if talking about the weather, it was easy to see the pain in your eyes. You thought denying the truth would make the hurt go away. But it wouldn't, Tommy knew it was only a matter of time before you broke. And like with Cyril, he felt like he was the one who needed to help. So he decided to play along for now, letting you keep your act up. Atleast until he could figure out the best way to fix the mess he still felt he'd made.

"You tell yourself it's the war eh? Do you write him letters."

"Yes, I write him one almost every day. But I haven't sent any. Did you know that I was rarely able to send them to him during the war. Something about his post being secretive, and no one should know where it really was. So I'd just... write a letter everyday and when I got a letter that his squad was resting at a safe camp every few months I'd just send the packet of them.... If I was lucky I'd get one back, but most of the time I just had to wait. I learned a lot about waiting then. I learned it was better to laugh too. Laughing helped me stay sane."

Standing up, Tommy began walking with you as you stepped deeper into the gardens.

"Laughing eh? Well I guess it's better than what I did. Almost drunk myself to the grave and then fucked off in a caravan with my son for a month. Seems you're handling it better than me."

You could only scoff at his response.

"Oh don't worry, there's been plenty of drinks for me too. I'm a happy drunk though, so I guess it helps my plan. After all, as long as I'm laughing, I don't have time to cry. I don't think I'll be able to stop crying the day I begin. So I'm just trying to hold off as long as I can."

"Aren't we all."

Silence fell in the garden again, and the two widowed souls walked back to the house. It was starting to get back and Tommy had noticed Finn's car pull up a few minutes ago. When you reached the back door you were met with a fluffy beast knocking you over as soon he'd caught sight of you. Cyril was happy to have at least one of his masters back. The man taking care of his now treated him well, but he still missed life with his old owners, even if he couldn't express it in words. 

While you reunited with Cyril and applauded Charlie on the tricks he taught the dog, Tommy went to gather some of Cyril's things and have Francis prepare a room for you. Tommy had no clue where you'd take the dog, but seeing as you seemed adamant about staying away from Margret, and apparently didn't despise Tommy (somehow), he thought it made sense to let you stay the night for a bit. And something still told him to convince you to stay even if just for one day.

On his was back down the stairs he noticed something sitting on the table and there was a click in his brain. He remembered the curiosity brought to him that morning during breakfast, and suddenly a lot of odd business meetings made sense. He finally realized who'd messed up the empty dirt patch that night two years ago. Grabbing the object off the table, Tommy headed back to the drawing room. Inside you were still petting your beloved dog, even though Finn had taken Charlie to get ready for bed. 

"Y/N, I went up to grab some of Cyril's things, but I think it may be better for you to spend the night here. It's getting late and I don't think either of us wants the dog getting hurt if you were to crash."

You laughed gently at his words, not caring to ask about the hand behind his back. Not thinking much about his words, you accepted his offer. You knew you should be mad at him, hate him, even what to kill him, but you couldn't. You were too tried to be mad at anyone right now. Besides, it wasn't like you knew where you were going anyway. You just wanted to see your...his dog again. Maybe if you had that little piece left, it would make it easier to move on. It would make it easier to pretend you weren't alone now.

"Alright. I'll stay. But only so Charlie can give Cyril a proper goodbye. I'd hate to tear them apart, it seems they've made close friends."

"They have," Tommy smiled, genuinely happy thinking of how closely his son had bonded with the dog. "Cyril's stuff is in Charlie's room now infact. They've taken such a liking, I can't keep them apart. We can get his stuff tomorrow, but I do have one thing I think you may want now."

You looked towards the Shelby man curious. "What is it?," you questioned.

Silently Tommy extended his hand to give you the object he'd snagged from the table.

It was a single rose... But something was different about it. The stem seemed to have grabbed something buried within the dirt to take along as it began to grow. Twisting and turning all the way out of the dirt, outwards towards the sun, as if offering the shiny object up. An ages old promise from the rose to the sun of an endless truth, never broken even in death...

The rose was offering his sun a ring.

And not just any ring. A wedding ring. Simple and worn, it had been stolen off a rich toff from a boxing match many years ago. It had survived work and war, seen blood and lust, and so many other things. And while the ring didn't define the marriage it represented a promise you thought you'd never see again. But here now, seeing how tightly the rose stem had grown around it, you knew you'd never have to worry about that again. Not even death could stop the love the rose proposed to his sun. Even in death he'd still offer her life.

You couldn't even take the rose from Tommy's hand before you finally broke. Laughing at the irony, Tears streamed down your face as you sunk to your knees, all the pain you'd been bottling up coming out. And thus you sobbed, hard. So hard in fact, it felt like you couldn't breathe. And you sobs were still mixed with laughter of disbelief as a million memories ran through your head, but none as loud as the one of that night and the morning after. 

Two years ago you'd lost that ring. Alfie promised that he'd look multiple times whenever he went back to the house, even if it meant having the meeting in the garden like "a bunch of prissy ladies at a fucking tea party" as he'd called it. And for two years he'd had no luck until now. But today, your rose had finally found the lost ring, even if you'd lost him months ago. 

Setting the rose gently on the table, Tommy sunk to his knees too. Letting you grab onto him, for a shoulder to mourn on. He knew you needed it. For so long you'd shut yourself away, denying the truth and trying to act like it didn't affect you. You wanted to pretend your world wasn't falling apart and now you couldn't any more. He'd been he same way, except he didn't have anyone to help him. He couldn't burden his one year old son with his grief and he knew most of his family still resented Grace to some degree. They hadn't been as destroyed by her passing as he had. He didn't want you to be alone like he had. For as many terrible thing as Tommy had done, he couldn't bring it upon himself to leave you alone now. And so he sat on the floor, holding you in his arms as the cracked dam finally broke. 

That night, until the early hours of the morning, Thomas Shelby sat comforting the wife of the man he'd killed. And he would until she'd fallen asleep, finally worn out from her grieving. In the morning he'd offer breakfast and they'd get to talking about the loves they lost. They were still both hurt and broken and mourning what they'd lost, but they weren't alone now. For two people so different they both knew what the other felt so deeply. Little snippets and stories about happier times, while watching a little boy play with a big dog, laughing as the pair rolled in the grass. And while both still grieved, there was a peace to be found in being with someone who knew how they felt. 

And while they talked, Y/N played with the ring on her finger. It was new and expensive and fit just right. This one was only two years old and didn't have many memories but she loved it just the same. And upstairs by her bed sat another ring, but this one was held tightly by a rose she'd placed in a vase. This was the ring that she loved more, and the one she really wanted to wear, but she couldn't bear to tear it from the rose just yet. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to. Maybe she'd let the rose dry out and preserve it like she use to do someone's at the flower shop when she was young. But for now she's let it live as it was.

Holding on tightly to a promise that not even death could divide...

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

While all this happened a mailman was headed towards Birmingham with a letter from a dead man, asking about his dog and looking for his wife....

[goth-mami-writer]

☆Unbothered☆ (pt.2)

~(AU) Leon Kennedy × f!Reader drabble/work

~Find part one here

~{Part 3 coming soon! ♡}

@lizzetmv ♡ @danigirls-missions ♡

《 You re-entered the house after dropping the kids at your mom's. You were still tired, but somehow you felt jittery listening to your quiet house from the foyer. Leon would be home later that night, and you'd be alone for a while, but your first thing to do with the silence of your home….evaded your mind. You wanted to catch up on laundry. Or maybe vacuum. But neither of those were relaxing, just necessary. So you decided on a shower.

Truthfully, you just wanted to stand under the water without worrying how long you'd been away from downstairs. When you stood in your towel afterwards, you realized you had time to look in the mirror for once instead of rushing to put on clothes.

Or even makeup that didn't have to take four seconds while you yelled down the stairs for everyone to have their shit ready and be in the car.

You wondered how long it'd even been since you used your vanity, and you sat down in front of the small mirror in your bedroom as you decided on what to wear. After you finished your face, you slipped into a dress that you knew might not make Leon turn his head too hard. It was old, and you'd worn it to events before, but God, it had been years. But suddenly you heard from downstairs as he came inside.

You checked your watch after noticing how early it was for him to be in, and you hurried down the hallway. You found him in the kitchen and asked from the catwalk that hung above your living room if he was playing hooky from work.

“No-” Leon said, not looking up away from the counter where he unboxed the take out dinner he'd bought on the way in so neither of you would have to cook,

“I finished up early and figured to hell with the last hour. God, it's quiet in here without the k-”

You watched as he froze after turning to face you almost by mistake. He had to look twice to make sure he wasn't mistaken, and you questioned the look on his face,

“What?”

“You-” He stuttered before smirking up to you, “I've not seen you wear something like that in a while….Does it feel good?”

You looked around unsure how to answer although you knew exactly what you wanted to say. It did feel good to pretend maybe for just a weekend that you weren't sleep deprived and on the cusp of a breakdown.

“-Cause it looks good.” Leon said, stepping closer to the stairs. While hiding your smile, you crept down to meet him, and you mentioned that the food smelled good to change the subject. You noticed a brown grocery bag on the counter, and your brow furrowed to wonder what else he had brought along.

Leon showed you a new bottle of wine he'd got for the two of you to share but there was something else in the bottom of the bag that looked to be wrapped the same as candy. You held it up to the light to inspect it closer as he seemed to stray away almost intentionally. He began to explain as your eyes narrowed in once the realization set in to what he had bought,

“That- I saw that and figured for dessert... we could share a little chocolate.” Leon said, trying not to sound mischievous, but a grin formed on his mouth playfully.

“Leon- did you seriously buy sex chocolate?” You asked while reading the wrapper plastered in hearts with aphrodisiac ingredients listed clearly on the nutrition label.

He giggled as he opened the wine to pour a glass for each of you and he shrugged, mentioning in a daring tone when he realized his mouth could be a little more dirty now that he didn't have to censor in the presence of the kids,

“I mean…we've never really planned to fuck before. It's always just happened.. So why not…go full throttle? Come on, it'll be fun. They only take an hour to kick in.”

He offered your glass of wine across the counter, watching you bend to his idea of fun on your night off. You took a cautious drink, knowing that the whole point of spontaneous sex was you didn't have to plan it and it was twice as rewarding because of that.

But scheduled sex that was almost guaranteed to be worth a damn….seemed fool proof.

“I know we don't really need it.”

“And, yeah, yeah-” Leon said with that facetious roll to his eyes,

You checked your watch, not telling him exactly why until after you opened the pack of chocolate. Two squares were kept inside the foil paper and you put one to your nose. It smelled like something close to normal chocolate and Leon began to inspect it too under the kitchen light.

“This should go good with that wine actually-” He mentioned before looking up in disbelief at what you were doing.

He saw you place one square into your mouth already, and you washed it down with a sip of wine somewhat fearlessly as he watched in awe. You looked up to him, watching his jaw drop in seeing that you had no more doubts about this, and you said with a purr as you sloshed the Cabernet in your glass,

“We got an hour to kill. You want to watch a movie?”

You were so unsure before these few minutes but now there wasn't a shadow of doubt. It made Leon smile widely while putting the other chocolate into his mouth with a wink to follow your lead,

“Yeah- I'll bring the wine.”

You sat on the couch together, but neither of your eyes were open long enough to even see what was on TV. Leon was nuzzled into your neck, kissing you warmly and much to your delight when you felt his tongue softly grazing.

Your leg rested over his lap, letting his hand knead against your thigh from beneath your dress as your eyes were closed in the bliss of what felt like foreplay. It hadn't felt like this since before the kids were even thought of. While you two were dating those years ago. He'd come to town after an assignment in DC and you'd find a hotel to sneak to for the night. It was always the highlight of your weekend and the way he kept you busy those nights were something you dreamed of anymore.

Gently, he laid you to the couch and your heart raced even more. You wanted to go upstairs but you couldn't move away from this. His hands cupped handfuls of your chest as he lied across you to kiss you. Your legs instinctually opened at the first surge of becoming turned on and his face softened when he felt you welcoming him in so close.

Before you could ask him if he kept any of his condoms down here, there was a noise from under the couch's throw pillow that made both of you jump. You were startled by the whirring and buzzing that was muffled from beneath you and Leon moved you slightly to find one of the baby's toys that had been lost within the couch cushions.

Together you both laughed softly and Leon mentioned in a mutter from above with a wink after you caught a breath,

“You wanna finish this upstairs? I think this chocolate's kicking in.”

“It's been fifteen minutes, Leon.” You mentioned playfully and he shrugged with a smile, asking why you two had to wait.

You agreed with a chuckle and followed him upstairs. Already, you found yourself softly stumbling from only one glass of wine but you knew you'd be plenty sober in just a few minutes. You noticed that he was stumbling as well and you laughed, teasing him for nudging the door frame as he slothed his way into the bedroom.

“Damn, I feel like I can hear the whole neighborhood.” Leon mentioned in a slur from the quiet as he began to undress.

You took the bottle of wine that he still carried and set it on your nightstand. You felt your head swimming re-entering your bathroom, he'd kissed off all of your lipstick as you noticed in the mirror but you stripped down to your underwear, letting your dress stay on the bathroom floor.

He watched you crawl into the bed nonchalantly as he sat on his side, unbuttoning his shirt. He chuckled when he found you snuggled up to your pillow as he crawled beneath the covers beside you.

Gently he pulled you to his lips again, wrapping you around him there in the dark as you both became slowly tangled on the bed. You felt your heart racing but there was this softness present now, one that you didn't feel downstairs on the couch.

You turned, laying him down with his back meeting the mattress and straddled his waist before leaning back down to his lips. His hands met your face, cupping under your jaw but you felt as his fingers then tangled into your hair so sweetly as he kissed you. This was the softness that felt so new.

Both of you became out of breath from the shared, elevated heart rate between you and Leon pulled away only for a moment to put your forehead against his. He knew too that any kind of touch or kiss hadn't felt like this in years and he muttered with that same intoxicated cadence that you found endearing,

“It feels good to just do this too.” He chuckled under his breath, letting his lips graze yours as he spoke,

“Are we that damn old now? Where getting off just to do it won't cut it anymore?”

After telling him you loved him, your eyes fluttered when he told you the same. He lied your head on his chest and together you both fell asleep just as you thought you would. Leon held you in your shared slumber that was broken hours later by your phone ringing.

Your mother had called to give you an update that they'd made it to the children's aunt's and tiredly you thanked her for the call, mentioning that Leon and yourself had gone to bed a little early after dinner. You told the children you loved them and missed them before hanging up.

Leon awoke hearing you talking to your mother and he rose on his side of the bed to ask if the kids were okay. You nodded but noticed him holding his head after he spoke.

“How the hell am I light headed with a splitting headache?” He asked in a groan but as soon as he became close, you felt something churn from inside you. It's like the scent of his cologne was almost overpowering but it was…nice?

You put your nose into his neck, smelling for which one of his usuals that he wore but you furrowed your brow with a deep inhale

“What cologne are you wearing, baby?”

You felt his skin shimmer with goosebumps strangely as your nose grazed him and he trembled,

“Jesus- baby, I'm not wearing cologne.”

You told him how good he smelled but then raised from the bed to open the bedside window since normally you both sleep with the fan on. Leon tried to look and see what time it was, but your silhouette in the dimly lit room made his eyes widen. You slightly leaned over your dresser to unlatch the window, and Leon watched as the curve of your ass shook as you reached forward.

He felt a twitch towards his navel and looked down below the covers to find out exactly why he was lightheaded.

There wasn't any blood flow and hadn't been. He was sporting an undeniable hard-on from the aphrodisiacs.

“Hey honey-” He said, trying not to sound alarmed that he was so hard that he couldn't think straight thanks to the chocolates that had kicked in during your small nap.

“What?”

“We're gonna need to keep that window closed tight.”

You turned around to snap heatedly that it was hot as hell up here but you saw that his eyes kept glancing down to his lap. You put the pieces together, looking at your phone to see what time it was but when you moved you felt a chill of cold air between your thighs. You were wet and your thighs were smeared with moisture from the arousal brought on by those damn chocolates.

Your eyes shot to Leon, who brought his hand up to show you the tremble in his fingers from being so turned on that he was shaking. You knew this was why you thought he smelt so good those moments ago, it was intrinsic like an instinct. Leon then reiterated with an urgency that begged you to get back in bed before he got up to do it himself,

“Close that window, or this whole damn neighborhood is gonna hear us instead.”

You slammed the window shut, thinking to yourself as your veins swelled with your racing heartbeat to know that you needed him so desperately. This might take all night and you had never been so thankful for falling asleep in all your life when you told him breathily,

“And to hell if they do.” 》

[promise-you-doie]

K. Doyoung | From Home

Feeling overwhelmed by leaving everything familiar behind, you find solace in meeting Doyoung, who exudes a comforting familiarity that reminds you of home. His presence ignites a passionate fire within you, drawing you closer and easing the transition into your new chapter of life.

Doyoung x Reader (Strangers to lovers)

12k words

Mainly fluffy, a little angsty, suggestive.

Playlist

Part 1 - Coming Home

No smut, but this is a bit more suggestive than any of the other things I've put out. (Don't make fun of me, please; I'll cry.) This was only supposed to be 6k words, but I didn't wanna make you guys wait for a part three. Feedback is much appreciated. Thank you. :)

It was just another Saturday night. Your window was cracked half open, and the breeze from outside allowed itself in, brushing past the skin of your arm while you reviewed the notes from Thursday's lecture. Your roommate was long gone, so you had the room to yourself. This meant you got to play your music as loudly as you wanted without her complaining that it was "trash" or "boring."

You hummed along to the song and tapped your pen against the thin paper while checking the time on your alarm clock. Then, you tap your phone to see if you've received any missed calls or messages in the past two minutes.

You hadn't.

With a long, deep sigh, you returned to your notes and continued studying—until you heard your phone ring and Jaehyun's name flash across your screen. You rushed to answer your phone, your grin wide, your eyes bright.

"Hey, beautiful." When you accepted the call, Jaehyun's smile was as big as yours. You watched him rest in his bed, and you went to do the same. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, Jae." You pout. "I really wish you were here."

"I wish you were here." His voice is clear through your phone speaker, causing butterflies to erupt in the pit of your stomach. If this wasn't love, you didn't know what it was. You had your whole life planned around Jaehyun, and so far, everything has been going exactly as planned.

"I can't wait 'til you come back," he added, wiping the smile right off your face.

"I'm not coming back." You whispered.

He asks, "Why not?" You watch him shift on his bed to look at you. He's obviously confused; it doesn't take a genius to see it. His smile of adoration is long gone, and his eyes aren't as gentle as they were when you first answered the call.

"There's nothing there for me. Everything I need is here in L.A." You explain.

"What about me?" His voice was soft, but not the kind of soft you were used to. It was different; it almost broke you.

"Well… I thought you could come here." You flashed your doe eyes into the camera and mustered up a sincere smile to hide your nervousness about his reaction. You never talked about life after college; you just kind of assumed that he loved you enough to come with you.

You were wrong.

"Why would I do that?" His eyebrows furrowed, his tone almost degrading.

"I just thought you would because then we could be together. I hate long-distance—you know that—and I just want to be with you." You began rambling and rubbing your hands against each other to distract yourself from crying.

"The city has never been my thing; I don't see why you won't just come back home. What does Los Angeles have that Connecticut doesn't?"

"Everything, Jae. Nobody knows me here. I can start over, pursue my career, and live the life I have dreamt of since I was a little girl." Your voice was shaky, and you hated it. It felt like the air was fighting against you as you began choking over your own words.

"This is stupid." He laughed and looked away from the camera, unintentionally flashing his dimple as he did so.

"Stupid?" You repeat

"We've always talked about finding an apartment here and moving in together. Now, suddenly, you're in L.A. and want to abandon me?"

"I'm not abandoning you, Jae; I just really, really don't wanna go back there." You stress. He missed when you dried the warm tears on your cheek with the balls of your wrists.

"It feels like you are."

"I'm not." You murmured, looking down and tugging at the ends of your shirt.

"Well, you don't want to come back, and I don't want to go to L.A. So now what?" he asked. He's almost three thousand miles away, but the way he looks at you through the camera makes you feel like he can see right through you.

You mumble, "I don't know." Before you hear a loud sigh come through the phone's speaker, Jaehyun presses his lips into a thin line and throws his hand over his head to wipe his face once.

You could tell that he was frustrated, and you hated that you were the reason why. You thought to apologize, but you knew that it wouldn't help anything. So you remained quiet and waited for him to say something to break the awkward silence.

"Maybe you should get some sleep. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay, I love yo-" Your boyfriend wastes no time hanging up the phone and leaving you to sit in your own quietude.

That was your first argument, and after that, everything just went downhill. Your phone calls got shorter and shorter. Some nights, he wouldn't even call, and when he did call, it always ended in an argument. You tried dragging out your relationship for as long as possible, and you knew he was doing the same.

But eventually, it grew to a point when you started to dread his calls. Eventually, you started questioning whether you were still in a relationship. Eventually, you began to wonder if you even wanted to be in a relationship anymore.

Another Saturday night, spent in your dorm room alone. This time, instead of studying, you chose to order in and watch Netflix. You're three episodes in when your phone begins to ring. You pause your show and pick up your cell to find Jaehyun's contact flashing across your screen.

Hesitantly, you swipe to answer and prop your phone up on the table so you don't have to hold it.

"Hey, baby." His baritone voice rings through your ears in a way that no other voice could. Things might've been rocky, but you loved him—you were sure of that.

"Hey, Jaehyun." You chipped, leaning back against the couch so he could see your complete frame.

"Jaehyun?" He repeats, obviously dissatisfied.

You ask, "What?" And look closer to see the displeased look on his face.

"What happened to Jae?" He queries.

You frown, "Could we not argue today?" Ending your sentence with a "Please."

"Okay, y/n." He's being sarcastic, and you can tell. You overlook it and move on to the next subject because you'd much rather end the call with "I love you" than another heated discussion that causes one of you to hang up abruptly.

"How was your day?" You ask, hoping to change the subject.

"Boring, but I've been thinking about you all day." You watch his frown grow into a smile, which makes you feel at ease.

"Oh yeah, What were you thinking about?"

"Remember when we used to sneak out at night?" He reminisces. "The things we used to do." His smile shines on your screen; you can see his dimples and crescent eyes.

"You know your mom started calling me her son-in-law?" He brings it up suddenly.

"She's annoying." You roll your eyes and feel a sense of peace—finally, you can have a normal conversation with him.

"So when you come back, I was thinking that we could try out this restaurant that just opened. Everyone's been talking about it, but I didn't wanna try it without you." You didn't know if he was doing this on purpose or if he really just ignored everything that ever left your mouth.

"We talked about this, Jaehyun. I'm not coming back."

"Listen, I know L.A. seems new and exciting, but this is your home, whether you like it or not."

"I'm not doing this with you tonight." You breathe, picking up your phone to get ready to hang up, when he sighs and says, "I don't understand why you're being so stubborn."

"I'm not being stubborn. You just aren't listening to me."

"Okay, so now this is my fault?" He sits up and picks up the phone to see you better.

"I'm not blaming you. I just wished you cared enough about me to know that I'm happy here." He remains quiet, so you continue. "I don't wanna go back to Connecticut, and if you don't understand that, then maybe…" You pause, tears already beginning to form and your voice shaking just at the thought, "We should break up."

It falls quiet for about ten long seconds. Suddenly, you become hyper-aware of his background noises, his lack of facial expression, and the breath that you've been holding since you last spoke.

"Okay," he sighs, "If that's what you want." The call is dropped as soon as those words meet your ears. Once again, you're left to deal with your own silence and a fresh new set of warm tears that stroll easily down your cheeks.

"Hey girl, I—" Joy stops when she notices how puffy and red your eyes are. With that, she closes the door to console you. Nothing else is said when she wraps her slim arms around you to pull you into a hug, holding your head to her chest and patting it softly.

"I don't know about this." You look down at the dress Joy picks out for you. At first glance, it seems that the dress is two sizes too small for you, but that's the least of your worries. You were more concerned about coming up with an excuse to get you out of going out tonight.

"We have to get you out of this room. The energy you're harboring here is not healthy for your soul. And—" You hold your hand and nod to stop your roommate before she goes into another one of her lectures.

"I'll go. Just give me the dress."

The bar is small and intimate. You notice that everyone here knows each other. Everyone except you. Joy loosely holds your wrist in her hand as she drags you around to meet different people. You recognize a few of them, and most of them you don’t.

"Oh, there he is." She squeals, tightening her grip on your wrist and pulling you towards the tall, dark-haired stranger who already has his eyes on you.

"Doyoung, this is Y/n, and Y/n, this is Doyoung." Joy greets both of you and brings both of her hands to her cheeks when you both say "Hi" at the same time.

You don't notice when Joy slips away; you're too busy staring at the beautiful stranger in front of you. "I don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new?" He asks first

You nod your head, "Yeah, I'm a first-year."

Your eyes never leave him; there's some type of gravitational force pulling you closer to him. Something about him feels different, something no one has ever made you feel—not even Jaehyun.

Oh, Jaehyun.

"Sorry, I gotta go." You unintentionally stop him mid-sentence, unaware that he was even talking. And you run off faster than it took for him to say, "Okay." He blinks once, and you're gone.

Joy watches you leave the bar from afar, chasing after you before you can get too far. Nearly twisting her ankle in the high black heels she was wearing, she catches up to you but not without asking, "What happened?"

She doesn't get a verbal answer or any response at all, but she knows. She knows all too well.

Joy lets out a long sigh, "Let's go home." She holds her hand out, and you take it, allowing her to lead you back home.

You sat curled up in your bed with the prized bear that Jaehyun won you from the fair two years ago and his contact pulled up on your phone.

Your fingers dance around the phone, trying to find the right words. You want to tell him you miss him and you're sorry, but you're also afraid. What if he's mad at you? What if he had already found someone new? What if he never really loved you and was just waiting for you to break up with him?

All these questions swirl in your mind, and that should've been enough to stop you from texting him, but you let your heart take control. Mindlessly, you begin typing out, "I miss you; please call me." Just before you can hit send, you get a notification for a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hey, this is Doyoung. Joy gave me your number.

Joy's already watching you from the corner of the room. When you look up, she's nervously gazing at you. Biting her bottom lip in anticipation.

"I know I should've asked you first, but he's a good guy. I think you should give him a chance." She defends herself, although she doesn't really have to. You could never be mad at her.

"Fine." You roll your eyes and pick up your phone to answer him.

Unsure of how to respond, you just typed "Hey," hoping that he would carry on the conversation.

"He's asking to hang out." You confessed to Joy when you held up your phone for her to see, even though you knew she couldn't see anything from where she was sitting.

"Tell him yes." She says urgently, jumping in her spot.

You obey her and use your thumbs to type out, "Sure, what time do you have in mind?"

He replies not even a second later with, "How about tonight?"

"He wants to hang out tonight," you shoot your head up.

"Oh, he's really interested in you.' Joy squeaks,

"What do I say?"

"Yes!" She squeals again, and you listen.

Jaehyun was long forgotten as you walked along the dark beach, listening to the sound of waves crashing in. The sky was pitch black; the only visible light was the moon, and the street lamps lined up a few yards away.

You can see Doyoung's face visibly; he's just as handsome as you remembered him from earlier in the evening, although you weren't expecting him to change in just a few hours.

"I love the beaches here," you admit.

He sounds, "Yeah?" While looking down at you and, you nod

"They're the reason I chose to come to California." The weather was warm on a Friday night, but the breeze coming in from the shore had you pulling down the sleeves of your turquoise blue sweater.

Doyoung noticed it and slipped his jacket off to drape it over your shoulders, asking, "Where are you from?"

You answer, "Connecticut." As you continue walking along the dark beach, taking in the warmth of his blue varsity jacket.

"Wow, you're far away from home, aren't you?"

"I guess." You agree. The waves come in just a little harder and leave your feet wet and sandy.

"Well, how do you like California?" He asked

"It's beautiful. Very different from Connecticut," you boasted, feeling a sense of achievement since you had lived out your childhood dream. A subtle smile fell upon your face.

"I'm glad you're here," Doyoung said.

"Me too." You reply, looking up at him.

You aren't thinking about your ex for the first time in two months, and it feels nice.

You hated the student library, its familiarity, its blandness, and the fact that the staff always kept the air conditioning so high. But you needed to study, and this was the best place you could think of since your roommate took over your dorm to have her boyfriend over.

The library was awful, but you got used to it after a while. All it took was some warm tea and a set of earphones for you to lose track of time. Two minutes turned into an hour, and an hour turned into three. So, what should have been a 30-minute study session became a five-hour study day.

Granted, you did get distracted a few times.

The library is relatively full, but Doyoung still easily picks you out. He slides into the empty chair behind you and taps your shoulder. "Have you been here all day?" He asks.

You lie and answer, "No." But the snack wrappers and coffee cups tell him otherwise.

Knowing you aren't telling the truth, he asks, "What time did you arrive?" Resting his cheek on the palm of his hand to look at you.

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks before your turn to avoid his gaze. "Um, probably around like… 2ish?" You mumble to where he can barely hear you.

"You ever been to Karaoke?" He asks suddenly, causing you to whip your head around at his odd question.

"No." You answer.

Doyoung doesn't ask any further questions before he reaches to clean up your notebooks, and you do the same. "What are you doing?" You ask, still packing up the rest of your stuff.

"There's a karaoke spot around here." He takes your bag and swings it around his shoulder.

Your eyes widen instinctively when you stand up beside him. "Doyoung, I can't sing." You whine, but he only laughs, flashing arguably the prettiest smile you've ever seen.

"You don't have to know how to sing; it's just supposed to be fun," he says, guiding you out of the library with your bag still hanging off his shoulder. No matter how much you protest and argue, you still end up in a karaoke booth.

"No," you shake your head and wave your hands around. "You don't want to hear me sing, I promise."

"I do." Doyoung insists, pushing the microphone in your direction. Despite his charming smile and persistence, you're still reluctant.

It takes him putting on one of your favorite songs for you to start humming along. He makes you comfortable by randomly singing along to the words on the screen and pressing the microphone to your lips so you can sing with him.

Which you do. Your anxiousness is long gone, and you begin to dance to the beat with him beside you. You're lost in the moment, but Doyoung is smiling at you as if you hung the sun, moon, and stars with your own two hands.

"Where were you?" Joy scolds before you fully walk into the dorm.

"I was studying." You shrugged and closed the door behind you.

"Libray closed an hour ago," Your best friend stands up to you and folds her arms over her chest. "And it only takes 15 minutes to walk back." She continues. "You can't lie to me, Y/n."

You mutter, "And then I went out to karaoke with Doyoung." As you plop down on your bed with a slight grin, you say, "Well, that, and we got something to eat afterward."

That's when you see her glare change, and her smile grows wider than yours. "Why didn't you just say that?" She sat down right next to you. "You should've stayed out longer."

Your best friend slips her arm around yours and rests her head on your shoulder. "How did it go? Did you kiss?"

Joy is fully dressed, hair and makeup done, and ready to head out the door. Meanwhile, you're still slouched on your bed, hair pushed up into a messy bun, and glasses hanging loosely above your nose. "I don't wanna go," you whine, arms crossed over your chest.

"Doyoung is going to be there," Joy sings, hoping that will be enough to get you out of bed.

It's not.

"You're terrible at lying," you mumble, unconvinced.

"Please, Y/n. He'll come if you're there," Joy pleads, her hands clasped together as she does her best to give you puppy eyes.

"I'm not going just because he's there," you attest, but you still push your glasses up against your nose and roll off the bed to get dressed.

The "party" isn't really a party. There's just a small selection of people gathered around Kun's place. Most of them are familiar, as in you can put a name to a face. But there are still a few that you have to be acquainted with.

You occupy yourself with the snack table, seeing that Joy is too concerned with her boyfriend to notice that you're gone. Occasionally, you scan the area to see if Doyoung has shown up yet.

"Hey." You hear a somewhat familiar voice come from behind you, and when you turn around, you're faced with a broad, pearly white smile and long black locks of hair.

"Oh hey, Yuta." You smile to match his.

"I didn't think I'd see you here," he comments as he passes you a bottle of water. "You're always so hung up on that imaginary boyfriend of yours."

You press your lips into a thin line. You could try to convince him for the hundredth time that Jaehyun actually existed, or you could protect your energy and peace tonight by simply ignoring him.

You choose to argue.

"I don't know how else to prove to you that he's real. I'm starting to think that you're choosing to stay in denial because it makes you feel better for trying to flirt with someone in a relationship." You say calmly before opening your water bottle to take a sip.

You can feel his smirk from the corner of your eye before he opens his mouth to say, "I'll believe it when I see it."

That's when you feel that sharp feeling in the pit of your stomach, "Actually, we broke up." You look down to close your water bottle to avoid eye contact. "So you probably won't ever see it."

Yuta only laughs, "That's a new one."

"Will you leave her alone?" Joy waltzes in, "She doesn't want you. Go find some other freshman girl to bother." Your best friend wraps her arm around yours to pull you away from him.

"We were just talking." He defends, but she doesn't stick around to listen, and neither do you with you tied to her arm.

"Doyoung's been looking for you." She gushes and gestures her head towards the tall brown-haired boy conversing with Kun. He looks up almost as if he can feel your eyes on him, and his hands wave around as a greeting.

"Hey." You say first, a little too happily for your own liking.

Doyoung opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out when he's interrupted by Taeyong.

"Alright, guys, we're playing truth or dare." He calls loudly by Doyoungs ear. You can't help but wonder if it was on purpose or not.

"Truth or dare?" Joy repeats, "Isn't that for kids?" She insults but moves towards the living room where everyone else is, her arm still hung around yours.

Everyone gathered around in a circle, Joy on one side of you and Doyoung on the other.

Taeyong starts the game off with "Y/n!" He yells suddenly, and you quickly learn that he likes to startle people. "Truth or dare?"

"um, dare." You murmur.

"I dare you to make out with Yuta." Taeyong grins. You don't have to look at Yuta to know that he's doing the same.

"She'll pass," Joy speaks up for you so you don't have to. Then she reaches for the cup in front of you to drink your penalty for not going through with the dare. "Next." She hisses when the cup is empty, and her eyes are squeezed shut.

You hear Yuta mumble "Boring" under his breath, but he's not looking in either of your directions.

Kun speaks next, "Doyoung truth or dare?" And Doyoung doesn't give him the opportunity to further the question before he's downing the cup in front of him.

"Wow." Kun presses his lips into a thin line while the rest of the group laughs at the interaction.

The game goes on smoothly. Doyoung dares Taeyong to eat a spoonful of crushed red pepper, and Kun gets asked about his "daddy kink." Eventually, it becomes your turn. You scan the room for possible candidates, but you only have one name on your mind: "Doyoung," you utter. "Truth or dare."

"Dare." He confidently answers.

"I dare you to make out with her right now," Joy yells as you devise a dare to give him. And before you could take back what she said, Doyoung leans in to kiss your cheek. It's not anything significant, but it's more than enough to leave you flustered.

"I said make out, as in tongue her down. But that's good enough, I guess." Joy rolled her eyes.

"I wonder how her boyfriend would feel about that." Yuta grimaces, his head cocked to the side. That's what breaks you out of your little love trance. You chose to ignore him, and thankfully, your best friend does too. Even though you see her glaring at him with her tongue poking through her cheek as she tries to hold her composure.

"Hey." Doyoung reaches beside you to help clean the floor once the party is over.

You stand up straight to face him, "Hey."

"Joy told me to take you home," he says, pulling the bottles out of your hand.

"You don't have to."

"I don't mind." He speaks faster than it takes for you to finish your sentence.

"Oh- okay." You nod, "Let me just get my stuff."

Your third time in Doyoung's car is more awkward than your first. The music fills the silence, but you still feel obligated to say something. The only issue is that you don't know what.

"Are you cold?" Doyoung asks, dragging his hand to adjust the heat while leaving his other hand on the steering wheel.

"Just a little." You say.

And then it falls quiet again, which only leads you to think. Twiddling your thumbs when you blurt, "I don't have a boyfriend. Well, I did, but we broke up. But that was a while ago. I haven't talked to him since."

"Joy already told me," He stops you.

"What all did she tell you?"

"Just that you were feeling down since your breakup, and to be patient with you." He answers casually and politely. His focus is on the road, but you're still watching him.

"I'm not feeling that down. I mean, it's been months. I'm sure he's not thinking about me anymore. So I should move on." You stop when you realize you've been rambling again. "Right?" you ask.

"What do you think?" Doyoung flips the question back around.

"I think that I'm young," The car's quieter than it was when you first got in, possibly because the music had magically stopped playing in the middle of your conversation. Doyoung glances at you, but only for a really quick second before his eyes go back to the road ahead of him. "and I deserve to be happy. It's always been a dream of mine to go to school in California and start a new life. And now I'm here in L.A." You finish with, "So I should be happy."

"I agree." Doyoung nods. He pulls into the parking lot of your dorm and turns to look at you with a subtle smile.

This is the part where you're supposed to confess. Tell him that you really like spending time with him and possibly even making out in the back of his car.

But you don't.

You simply match his smile and say, "Thank you." You add, "For giving me a ride home and for listening."

"Anytime."

Your dorm room is just big enough for Joy and you. Although sometimes it got a little stuffy, it was usually really fun. Living with your best friend meant that every night was girls' night.

The only thing between you and your roommate was two boxes of pizza because you couldn't decide on toppings.

"So~" Joy drags out as she sets the crust of her pizza down in front of you.

You sound, "Yeah?" before taking another bite.

"How are things going with Doyoung?"

"You keep asking me this." You laugh and roll your eyes. You're furthest from annoyed, but the question started to get a bit old. "We're just friends."

"Oh, 'just friends,' my ass. I see the way you look at eachother." She attests.

"It doesn't mean anything." You shrug

"It means everything. It's like Shakespeare said 'eyes are windows to the soul."

"Shakespeare wasn't talking about me and Doyoung," you retort. “Plus, he couldn't even spell, so why would I trust his judgment?"

"Okay, fine. Forget about Shakespeare. Even a blind baby could see that you and Doyoung are into each other, and it's not just as friends." Joy drags her index finger out to prove her point.

You feel your phone vibrate by your leg but ignore it while making your next point. "Even if we did like each other, I just got out of a relationship. It wouldn't be fair to him if I'm not emotionally available."

When you finish speaking, you reach out to pick up your phone and check your alerts.

"It's been six months. At this point, you're just wasting both of your time," Joy says while you continue reading your messages. "You can ignore me, but you know I'm right."

"You are," you reply, preoccupied with your phone, which has Doyoung's contact information pulled up on your screen.

"Exactly- wait, really?"

"No, I was just trying to shut you up." You laugh as you throw your phone down and rest back on your palms. "We're just friends, nothing more."

"We'll see how long that lasts." Joy counters.

Joy was right, although you can't really recall a time she was ever wrong. Your feelings for Doyoung were growing rapidly by the day, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Everything in L.A was new and different; sometimes, it got overwhelming. But Doyoung made it easier. His presence felt so familiar, almost like you had known him your whole life.

You began to spend more and more time around him, whether meeting him at the student library to study or going out for ice cream. Sometimes, you'd spend hours talking on the beach, and sometimes, you'd just sit in his apartment and watch movies.

Joy noticed that the more you guys hung out, the less you talked about your ex, but she tried not to bring it to your attention. She was too afraid that she might accidentally stir up some hidden emotions.

Unfortunately, you only needed alcohol to bring those emotions out of you.

It's Friday night, and you're sitting drunk in a bar that Joy dragged you to again, crying over the ex you hadn't thought about in over six months.

With your head tucked into the crease of your elbows, you cry, "I miss him." To your best friend, who's trying to say anything and everything she can to take your mind off of Jaehyun.

"Look, girl, they have those burger nachos you like." She points to the menu, but none of it catches your attention.

"What are you doing?" She snaps her head, even though she already knows what you're doing

"I'm gonna call him."

You struggle to enter your password and pull up his contact information, but when you finally do, a hand rests on your shoulder—a hand you're sure doesn't belong to your best friend. When you turn around, you see Doyoung and his ever-so-sweet smile.

"Doyoung?" You call out.

"Let's get you home," he says loud enough for you to hear. You don't fight when he tugs on your arm to get you to stand up, and within seconds, you're being lifted off your feet as he carries you out of the bar and into the car.

You slur, "I can walk," but you don't make any attempt to escape his arms. Instead, wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head against his chest, close enough to hear and feel his heartbeat.

He gently seats you in the passenger seat of his car and reaches over to put your seatbelt on. Suddenly, you're no longer thinking about your ex. The familiar scent of Doyoung's car puts your mind at ease as you curl up in your seat and gaze out of the window. Eventually, you close your eyes when you begin to feel motion sickness.

Doyoung carries you into his apartment when Joy texts him that it's probably best that you stay with him for the night. He asks, "Why?" But she never responds, and he doesn't ask again.

First, he lays you down on his couch. You're just half asleep when he does so. You're barely awake to know that it was Doyoung's arms you feel managing your body weight and his voice telling you to stay put while he goes to get a washcloth.

When he returns, he gently uses the warm cloth to scrub the makeup off your face and his thumb and index finger to turn your head to ensure he has everything.

"Okay, here, drink this." He almost whispers, sitting you up against the arm of the couch as he puts the bottle of water against your lips. You tilt your head back so the water can easily flow down your throat.

When the water is gone, Doyoung helps you lie back on the couch so he can slip your shoes off and lay the polyester blanket over you.

His eyes trailed over you, and seeing that your feet fell off the couch and your neck was propped on the arm of the sofa, he shook his head.

"This isn't going to work," he says mostly to himself. With that, he lifts you off the couch and carries you to his bedroom, where he lays you in the bed and tucks you under the covers.

"Is this comfortable?" He asks, and you nod with your thumb in the air.

"This is perfect; thank you, Doie."

He smiles at the nickname. "Alright, get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay." You sing and roll over in his bed.

The following day, you wake up to the smell of bacon and other breakfast foods. Turning in the bed, you realize that the room you're in and the bed you're lying in isn’t yours. You jump up with widened eyes, forgetting everything that happened last night.

When you remember who the room belongs to, Doyoung knocks on the door. "Are you awake yet?"

You shuffle more in the bed before you call out, "Yeah." He slowly opened the door. Doyoung was fully dressed, with a brown leather backpack hanging off his shoulder.

"I have to go to work, but there's food on the stove. You're welcome to stay here if you'd like."

"Okay." You nod, and so does he before he turns to close the door behind him. You go to lie back down on the bed when he nearly barges back into the room. "Oh, I left a set of clothes for you if you want to change. Towels are in the bathroom, and there's extra soap in the cabinet. I don't know if there's a specific brand that you prefer."

When he sees you smile, he smiles, "Thank you, Doie." You say.

That's all that needed to be said for Doyoung to nod "Of course" and softly close the door behind him.

You knew Doyoung's apartment like the back of your hand; that's how much time you spent there. His place was clean and beautifully decorated, so it looked bigger than it actually was. However, you liked it because it was cozy and warm. His apartment was much better than the little dorm you shared with Joy.

You tiptoed around his place in the oversized gray t-shirt he left out for you to wear, just searching for something to do. Peaks of sunshine snuck in through the cracks in his curtains as you walked from ‌room to room.

Seeing that there's nothing much to do. You heat up the food he left on the stove for you and sit on his sofa to watch television. Flicking through the channels for a good 20 minutes before you hear the door knob rattle.

"You're still here?" Doyoung speaks first, seeing you get up off the couch to greet him.

"Yeah, I just didn't wanna leave your apartment unlocked." You hesitate.

"I'm glad you're here." Doyoung's eyes trail over your figure. Specifically, the skin of your bare legs. He tried not to be too noticeable, but you caught it. "I brought dinner." He holds the bag up.

An hour passes, and you're still on his living room floor in front of him, talking about anything and everything. One minute, you're laughing about your childhood. The next minute, you're talking about your dream superpowers.

"So what's Connecticut like?" Doyoung asks.

"Umm." You go to push your hair out of your face, but Doyoung reaches to do it before you can. "It's boring. Well, to me, at least." You explain. "It doesn't have palm trees. There are beaches, but they aren't as pretty as the ones here." You conclude with, "I don't know everything is… just different."

"There wasn't anything you liked about it?"

"The food was good, I guess." You tilt your head back and forth. "I spent so much time thinking about getting away that I never really took the time to get to know and love it."

"Maybe we should visit sometime." Doyoung offers. He takes his eyes off of you for just a second, but in that small second, you feel cold and a little pathetic because of how sad you got just because you didn't have all of his attention on you.

You shouldn't feel this way about someone you consider a friend. You shouldn't be looking at him, hoping that he'd kiss you or just touch you or something. Anything other than just looking at you.

You utter, "Yeah, I'll probably like it more if I got to experience it with you." The words escape your lips in a soft murmur, barely audible. You quickly look down. Your eyes dart around, searching for anything to distract you from the moment's awkwardness. You notice a loose thread on your shirt and begin to fiddle with it, trying to calm your nerves. As you stand there in silence, you can't help but wonder if he heard what you said or, worse, if he knows what you're thinking. The tension between you two is palpable, and you feel a knot forming in your stomach.

"Are you okay?" Doyoung asks, dipping his head down to see your face.

You nod, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little hot."

"Why didn't you say so I can turn the air on." He wastes no time getting up and treading to the thermostat. You just sit there, watching the distance between you grow. You roll your eyes and let out a deep sigh.

"I turned it on, but it's going to take a while to kick in," your friend informs you as he claims the spot in front of you. You're still avoiding eye contact, and he notices it almost immediately. "If it's too hot, I can get you some water."

"Doie?" You mutter instead of responding to his previous statement.

He responds, "Yes?" growing concerned at your sudden change of tone.

"Can you kiss me?" The way he looks at you makes your face feel warm; you're nervous, but you can't look away from him.

"Are you sure? I don't wa—" You kiss him before he can finish his sentence. Your lips are on his when you scoot the rest of your body closer to him—close enough to claim your spot on his lap. His hands immediately crawl under your shirt to wrap protectively around your waist, ensuring that you can't go anywhere.

Breathless, you roll over to lay your head on Doyoungs chest. That's when he wraps his arms around you and lets out a slow, exhausted laugh.

"What?" You smile, looking up at him.

"We did this all out of order." You wait for him to continue, "I like you, Y/n, and I want to be your boyfriend more than anything else."

You try to sneak into your dorm early the following day, assuming that Joy would've been in one of her classes or maybe out at her boyfriend's. But she's up, sitting on the edge of her bed with her laptop propped up on her lap.

"Oh… you're still here." You laugh to divert the attention away from you.

"Welcome back." Your best friend says. She doesn't spare you a look until you plop down on your bed. "Why are you so happy?"

"I'm not." You press your lips into a line, trying your best not to smile. Joy stands up and hovers over you to examine you. The first thing she notices is that you're wearing Doyoung's sweatshirt and a pair of his sweatpants, which means that you left your clothes at his place. She then grabs your face and turns your head from side to side.

"You're glowing." She says, almost like a question.

"I used some of Doyoungs skin care."

"Oh please, not even he glows like this." Joy debates, standing up straight to put her hands on her hip."You had sex, didn't you."

"No, of course not. We just sat around. We watched TV and stuff, you know, normal things." You look anywhere but at her as she squints her eyes to you. "We had sex." You murmur sheepishly.

"How was it?" She rushes to sit next to you.

Joy would always say that you and Doyoung were a very cheesy couple. "You guys are worse than me and my boyfriend." She'd say.

Whenever you were around him, you had to touch him. You couldn't help it, and he didn't make it any better. Doyoung had the habit of pulling you into his lap and leaving a trail of kisses on your shoulder, even in public.

If you weren't sitting on his lap, you were wrapped in each other's arms. Holding hands was too casual; you wanted to encase yourself in his skin.

It was another "party" at Kun's. You were seated in Doyoung's lap, and the rest of your friends were sitting in a circle around both of you.

"Okay, your turn." Taeyong turns to Doyoung.

"Y/n?" Doyoung calls, looking down at you. The entire circle lets out a collective groan of annoyance, but he still continues, "Truth or dare?"

You answer, "Dare."

"Just kiss and get it over with." Taeyong grunts, and you obey.

"I think we can skip her turn. She seems occupied." Kun comments. You don't agree or disagree with your lips getting tangled with your boyfriends.

"Alright, that's enough." Joy slaps the side of Doyoungs arm, but it takes for you to pull away for him to stop kissing you.

"Y/n, truth or dare," Yuta speaks up from beside you.

You answer "truth," and he asks, "What do You have Doyoung saved as in your phone."

You hesitated to answer the question, not because you were ashamed but because you were confused. "I have him saved as Kim Doyoung." You say it almost like a question.

"Really?" Doyoung darts down at you.

"Yeah, that's your name, isn't it?" You ask, "What do you have me saved as?"

Doyoung doesn't answer verbally; he only pulls out his phone and opens your contact information so you can see it for yourself. A small awkward smile grows on your face when you read "My Angel," with a picture of you on top and your number below it.

"When did you do that?" is all you can ask. Your friends continue playing the game around you, not caring about the world you and your boyfriend are in.

"As soon as we started dating." He answers, closing his phone and laying it down on the ground next to you.

Following his actions, you pull your phone out and begin typing something. Doyoung is curious to see what you're doing, but he patiently waits for you to reveal it to him on your own.

Soon, you're holding your phone right in front of him. For him to see his own contact pulled up on your screen. His name on top, his number below it, and "My love ❤️." Written right in between it.

"Is that better?" You ask

"Much better." He leans in to kiss you, pulling you closer to him than you already are.

"They're doing it again." Kun mumbles.

"Could you two please get a room?" Taeyong calls out after.

Even though Doyoung made life easier for you, things still got hard. Unfortunately, he couldn't stop the troubles of everyday life.

You had graduated, thankfully. But now you were struggling to find a job. You spent too many days on Joy's couch with your eyes glued to a computer screen, sending emails to various corporations, all of which seemed like they just didn't want to hire you.

With each passing day, you felt yourself getting more and more discouraged. You hadn't even noticed that you were unintentionally blowing your boyfriend off until he brought it to your attention.

The beach was the one place you could go to forget everything. Your mind is completely blank when you sit next to Doyoung in the sand, your head propped up on his arm as you listen to the waves crashing in.

The fact that it was pitch dark just made everything so much better. You wished you could give up everything and just make this your life.

"How have you been?" Doyoung asks randomly. Your heavy eyes force themselves open as you pull yourself off your boyfriend's arm.

A tired, breathless laugh leaves you when you say. "What do you mean?"

"I haven't been able to speak to you in almost a week." He answers, "I just wanna know how you've been."

"It hasn't been a week."

"It's been 9 days," Doyoung responds rather harshly, but you don't pick up on it at first.

"Well, you know I've been busy." You say in defense.

"I don't know that." He says, "You don't tell me anything. You just call me when you wanna hang out or have sex, then you leave me to worry about you for a few days."

"I didn't realize I was doing that, Doyoung. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, angel. Just at least update me sometimes. I still like talking to my girlfriend." Doyoung coos, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You agree, but it happens again. You go without talking to him for nearly two weeks, only to call one day in the middle of the night.

"Hello?" Doyoung shuffles in his bed to answer your call. You can hear in his voice that he's been sleeping.

"Doyoung…" You whine, "I need you."

"No." He states sternly.

your eyebrows furrow unknowingly when you mumble, "What?" You ask, taken back by his sudden sternness.

"You haven't spoken to me in two weeks. You don't call, text, or tell me anything, Y/n. I'm starting to feel more like a hookup than your boyfriend." He almost yells.

"I told you I was sorry." You reply.

He sighs. "You also told me you wouldn't do it again, but you did. I love you, angel. I love you a lot, but I'm not gonna run back to you whenever you finally decide to call me." He finished.

"I've been busy. What do you want me to do?" You plead

"I'd like for you to text me every once in a while. It's nice to know that you're still thinking about me even when we're not together. Or that you're still thinking about me during the day and not just in the middle of the night when you're needy."

"I don't wanna argue with you." You say after a long period of silence.

"Neither do I." He breaths. The next thing you hear are three beeps telling you that the call has been dropped.

In disbelief, you look at the phone and throw it on the opposite side of the bed. You roll over and try your best to sleep. But that doesn't come as easy tonight, no matter how many times you toss and turn.

Eventually, you reach for your cell to call your boyfriend again, but each time, you get, "You've reached my voicemail. I'm probably busy right now, but I'll call you back when I get the chance."

The following morning, you find yourself back on your best friend's couch, feeling restless and anxious. You try to distract yourself by scrolling through your emails and filling out job applications, but your mind keeps drifting off to Doyoung. You can't help but wonder if he's thinking about you too. You check your phone repeatedly, hoping to see a missed message from him, but every time you look, it's the same - nothing. The silence is deafening, and you can't shake off the feeling of unease that's been gnawing at you since the last time you spoke to him.

You weren't used to this from him. It was very rare for you to open your phone and see that he hadn't tried to call or text you. This only meant that he was really mad, and that made you feel uneasy.

Mindlessly, your thumbs hover over his contact, and you begin to call him.

The phone doesn't even ring once before Doyoung picks it up. "What do you want?" He spits.

You're more excited about the fact that he picked up to even care about the tone of his voice. "I missed you. and I just wanted to talk to you."

"So now you wanna talk?"

"What is your problem?" You mumble.

"I told you what my problem is. I don't like feeling neglected," he answers.

"I'm sorry, okay, I really am. I don't know what more you want from me?"

As you listen intently through the speaker of your phone, you can sense his reluctance. You can almost feel him holding back his true emotions as he takes a deep breath and responds, "There's nothing I want from you, Y/n."

"Then why are you acting like this? I just wanted to talk," you yell, despite his calm demeanor.

"I guess you're just too selfish and self-centered to understand," he insults. There's no point in me even wasting my breath," he says last before you hear that beeping again.

You don't know what irritates you more: the fact that he keeps hanging up before you can get your point across or the annoying beeping sound that comes right after. As if, to rub in the fact that your boyfriend is mad at you and you aren't making anything any better.

Neither.

It's the fact that he called you selfish and self-centered, as well as indirectly telling you that you lacked the brain capacity to even understand why he was mad in the first place.

Angrily, you click on his contact, but once again, you're met with "You've reached my voicemail. I'm probably busy right now, but I'll call you back when I get the chance."

You patiently wait for the beep to come in for your thoughts and insults to spew. Most of it you don't mean. You want to hurt his feelings like he hurt yours.

"You know you aren't such a saint yourself?"

"Selfish and self-centered, Really? Nice way to talk to your girlfriend."

" Fuck you, Doyoung. Fuck you."

"You don't have to talk to me, I know Yuta will."

"Doyoung, please, I'm sorry. I don't mean any of that. I just want you to talk to me."

"Whatever, I didn't really like you like that anyway. I was just bored."

"I've been cheating on you this entire time. I've been cheating on you, and that's why I haven't been texting you. Because I've been too busy having sex with other men."

"There aren't any other men, Doyoung. It's just you. I love you. Please call me."

By the end of the day, you had filled your boyfriend's voicemail until you couldn't send anything else. You went to sleep that night, thinking that he'd be over it by the morning, but the next morning rolled around, and he still wasn't talking to you.

Soon, a week had passed, and still, the same thing.

Things weren't working with Doyoung; your job search was getting nowhere, and you were losing weight from the amount of meals you skipped. Nothing seemed to be on your side.

"I think I'm going to have to stay in Connecticut for a little while." You cry into Joy's lap as she tries to comfort you.

"You know you don't have to do that." Joy stops you.

"I'm trying, but I really can't find a job, and I don't want to stay here and mooch off of you. Plus, I know you want to spend time with your boyfriend. I just don't want to get in your way," you explain.

"Please, y/n, you're not getting in my way, and my boyfriend doesn't mind having you around. If you feel like it's best for you to stay in Connecticut to get back on your feet, I understand that. But you're always, I mean always, welcome here." She smiles, smoothing the hair on your head. "But if you go, you need to fix things with Doyoung. He'd be heartbroken if you just up and left while you two were going through a rough patch."

She was right. She was always right. So that night, you ended up right in front of his apartment door. You didn't bother trying to call. You knew he wouldn't answer. The best approach was to face him in person, and that you did.

You knocked one, two, three times and waited patiently for him to answer, which he did in less than fifteen seconds. Your heart nearly jumps when you see his face, and you can tell that he was just as shocked to see you, too.

Neither of you says anything for a good long while. You're searching for the right words to say, and Doyoung's trying to stop himself from embracing you into a long-awaited kiss.

"Doyoung i-" He fails as soon as he hears your voice. Within seconds pulling you closer to him just to lay his lips on yours. Not caring what it is you have to say.

You end up in the shower together, and he's gazing at you lovingly. You're still just trying to figure out what to say to him.

"Do you really think I'm selfish and self-centered?" you mutter first, warm water spilling over your head when you look up at him.

"Of course not, Angel. I was just mad." He brings his hand up to caress your cheek and the outline of your lips. "I love you. Nothing could ever change that."

"I love you too, Doyoung." You murmur. "I don't like fighting."

"'Me neither." He says, more sincere this time.

"I don't like when you're mad at me." You continue.

"I don't like it either, angel." He whispers, closing in the space between with your hand still wrapped around your cheek. "and really don't like denying you." He says against your lips.

You can only close your eyes and whine, "Doyoung." Before he shushes you, connecting lips and tugging on your hips.

You can tell he loves you by the way he kisses you, the way he touches you, and the way he talks to you. You wish it weren't so evident. You wish he made it a little less obvious. Because then maybe you wouldn't have fallen for him as hard.

The thought of leaving him here in California pains you. Even if it's just for a few months. You don't know if you could bear long distance again, or if you could even look him in the eye when you tell him that you were breaking up with him.

You dry your tears before you leave a faint kiss on his lips. It takes a lot of strength for you to pull away from his sleeping body. You want nothing more than just to lay next to him, to stay there forever and for eternity after. But all good things must come to an end, and your flight was leaving in two hours.

You left with nothing but a note with tear stains that read,

I'm going back to Connecticut. I came over to tell you that, but I couldn't get it out. I hope that you can forgive me for leaving so suddenly, but I'll be back, I promise. For now, I think we should break up. I don't wanna hold you back, and I don't want you sitting around waiting for me. I want you to be happy. Even if it isn't with me.

If in the future we meet again, I hope we can work things out.

I love you, Doyoung. I'll love you forever.

-Y/n

and with that, you were gone.

Now, as you stand in your old room, the brown paper box at your feet, you can't help but feel a strong sense of nostalgia wash over you. You take in every detail: the way the sunlight filters through the window, casting a warm glow on everything in the room; the creaking sound of the wooden floorboards under your feet, each one carrying a memory of its own; and the scent of your old perfume that still lingers in the air, like a faint echo of a bygone era.

This time, as you prepare to leave, it feels different. It feels like you're saying goodbye for good, and the thought of leaving this place forever fills you with a deep sense of loss. When you first arrived in Connecticut, you couldn't wait to leave, but now you find yourself wishing you could stay just a little bit longer so you could relive the memories of your past, which you hold so dear.

However, you know that the real reason you're dreading going back is that you don't want to face your Doyoung. The thought of telling him that you're now in a relationship with the man you used to cry to him about fills you with anxiety. You're unsure of how he'll react, and the mere prospect of facing him makes your heart race with fear.

The more you think about it, the more you realize that things are not looking good for you. You're caught between your love for your new partner and your fear of the unknown.

Suddenly, your mom yells from downstairs, "Y/n, someone is here for you." You don't pay much attention to the hesitation in her voice, too lost in thought. You wish you had because when you reach the bottom of the stairs and look up, Doyoung is standing right across from you with a saddened smile and a black duffle bag. Your heart skips a beat as you see him. You hadn't expected him to be here, but now that he is, you don't know how to react. You mutter, "What are you doing here?" As you wrap your arms around yourself.

He doesn't give you a verbal answer; one second you hear the heaviness of his black bag when he drops it and the next he pulling you into a tight hug.

You immediately melt in his arms. There was no point in trying to build walls around Doyoung. He could always break them down with little to no effort.

"I missed you, Angel." He breathes, separating just enough for him to wrap his hands around each side of your face and bring you into a deep kiss. You kiss him back without much thinking; your body knows who Doyoung is. You can't deny him.

"Joy sent me." He finally answers when he breaks the kiss, but it doesn't take long for him to rush back to your lips.

"Are you still unpacking?" Doyoung asks when you show him your room. He eyes the brown boxes sprawled out around the floor.

"I'm packing up." You answer, "Joy found me a job, so I'm going back to L.A."

You don't have to face him to see him smile. The way his hand tightens around yours tells you all that you need to know. Soon, his other arm snakes around your waist to pull you back towards him. "We talked about visiting Connecticut together," he says next to your ear.

"We didn't know it would be under these circumstances though." You respond. Turning around in his arms.

"We're still here." He smiles. "What do you suggest we do first?"

"I don't know. I guess we can probably find a restaurant. But the food is way better in L.A."

It feels weird seeing Doyoung in your childhood room. It was like seeing two worlds collide, but it was nothing like seeing both of your exes in the same room.

"Baby! dinners ready." You didn't even hear when Jaehyun showed up, and nothing could've prepared you for this moment.

Doyoungs eyes divert from you to the man standing at your doorway, and Jaehyun eyes him back. Neither of them says anything, and thankfully so.

"Umm… Jaehyun, this is Doyoung, and Doyoung, this is Jaehyun." You gesture your arms to introduce them.

"Her ex," they both say at the same time. You glance between them, trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this situation.

"I-" "We're working things out." They interrupt you in sync.

"Huh?" You call out, walking past them. "Yeah, we're coming down now." You respond to nobody. Anything to get out of that stuffy room.

You take a seat at the end of the table, and your mom sits directly across from you while Doyoung and Jaehyun sit across from each other at opposite ends of the table.

They're both eyeing each other but as long as they're not bickering you do nothing to stop it. Although the air is quite thick, and you want nothing more than to just vanish into thin air.

"So, Doyoung, how was your flight?" Your mom asks to break the tension.

Your ex pulls his attention away from the man across from him to say, "It was long."

"Oh you must be so tired." You coo, reaching out to caress his cheek and the skin of small eye bags.

"I'm fine now that I got to see you." He wraps his larger hand over yours.

"I guess we should prepare for our flight," Jaehyun speaks up. He's talking to you, but his eyes are trained to Doyoung.

"You're coming to L.A.?" Doyoung asks, digging his spoon through the food.

"Yeah, I'm moving down there for Y/n," Jaehyun states.

"It's about time." Doyoung laughs mostly to himself.

"What was that?"

"It's about time," Doyoung repeats sternly.

"what's that supposed to mean?" Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows and throws his spoon.

"Nothing, he doesn't mean anything by it. Can we please just sit here and enjoy dinner without the two of you going at each other's necks?" That's all it takes to shut them up. "Thank you." You mutter as you breathe and go back to eating the food your mom worked so hard to cook.

"Drive safe." You stop at the door, and Jaehyun stops shortly after you do.

He turns around to ask, "You're not coming?"

You shake your head, "I don't wanna leave him alone."

Jaehyun purses his lips together, he couldn't lie, your answer disappointed him. But he didn't press, "Okay, I'll call you." He pressed a kiss to your cheek. "Goodnight, baby."

"Goodnight, Jaehyun," you murmur faintly. Watching as he turns to walk to his car. When he pulls off the driveway, you head into the house. Closing and locking the door before you trail upstairs to your bedroom.

You take a deep breath and push your hair back, thinking about how long and eventful your day has been.

Doyoung's seated on the edge of your bed, patiently waiting for you to get back when you walk into your room. Giving him a half smile as you make your way to your bed to sit next to him.

Although Doyoung just tugs on your wrist to pull you right into his lap. You don't fight it, his lap was warm and familiar. The perfect way to end your stressful day.

"How do you feel, Angel?" He asks above your head, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

"Tired." You answer, breathing in the scent of him. The scent of home. You were crazy to ever think that you could live without him. Without this.

"I love you," Doyoung says in the crook of your neck. He starts to leave a trail of kisses from your neck and across your shoulder. His arms are still wrapped right around you. You couldn't leave even if you wanted to.

But both of you know that's not what you want.

"I love you." He shifts to your other shoulder, "So much." You can only moan his name. His touch leaves you speechless as he reaches to pull your shirt over your head.

"You're mine, right?" He whispers against the shell of your ear.

"All yours, Doie." You spur when his hands tread into your underwear.

"I know Angel." His open-mouth kisses subtly turn into soft bites that have you squirming against him. "I'm gonna make sure he knows that. Okay?"

"Yes, Doyoung." you cry.

"You gotta keep it down." He coos. "Can you do that for me, Angel?"

You simply nod and that brings a smile to your ex's face. Warranting him to lay a kiss on the back of your neck while his fingers continue working.

Jaehyun's name is flashing across your screen, but you're too busy to notice anyone calling.

"Goodmorning!" Your best friend chirps the second you answer your phone. "Oh- someone had a wild night." She giggles, referring to the love bruises you have planted on your neck.

"You just wait till I get back." You hiss into the speaker of your phone. Be careful not to wake your boyfriend up.

"You're gonna thank me? Kiss me and hold me and tell me I'm the bestest best friend in the whole wide world?" Joy smiles fondly into the camera.

"You have no idea." You poke your tongue through your cheek. Although you weren't mad at her, you couldn't be even if you wanted to. And you really wanted to.

"Oh please, girl. I saved you, and you know it." She smirks knowingly.

"You might have, but I'm still mad at you." You glare into the camera.

"And you're still really bad at lying. I'll see you when you get here." She grins, ending the call with "I love you. I knew you'd do the right thing."

Just as soon as she hangs up you're getting a text message from Jaehyun.

Jaehyun: I'm outside.

You rush to your window to see that, sure enough, he's standing right next to his parked car. You glance one more time at the man in your bed and remember the marks you have as evidence of last night's events.

"You're early." You say, when you open the door. One hand hanging from the back of your neck.

"You didn't answer my call last night, I couldn't sleep," Jaehyun explains, looking down at you.

"I was so tired, I just fell asleep. I'm sorry." You gulp, knowing that he could see right through you. You tried your best to keep a straight face, but that was the problem. Jaehyun could tell you were hiding something by how still you were.

You don't blink, breathe, or say anything until Jaehyun mutters, "It's okay. Baby. I know how tired you can get."

The nickname causes you to grimace, and he quickly notices it. He noticed everything, the way you avoided eye contact, the way you held your hand over your neck. How clingy you were with him just a few days ago, but distant with him now.

He's lost you, and he knows it. He's just not ready to accept it yet.

"Do you maybe wanna go out and get a bite to eat?" He asks.

"Jaehyun," You trail off, "I'm going back to L.A."

"I know, I've got everything packed. We-" "I'm going back with Doyoung." You blurt out nervously.

Jaehyun doesn't say anything, so you continue. "You knew this only temporary. I mean, you hate the city; this is your home, and I can't take you away from that." You continue rambling

"But I love you y/n, and I'm willing to make it work to be with you. I really, really don't wanna lose you. Again." He pleads, reaching for your hand.

"You'll find someone else. You'll find someone who loves you and makes you happy. Someone that won't ask you to leave everything behind." You subtly pull your hand away from him.

"What aren't you understanding? I don't want someone else. I was here first, and I think that should count for something." This time, when you don't say anything, he continues, "I thought you said you missed me? Just a few days ago, you asked me to come with you."

"That was a mistake." You finally look at him. "I was sad, and lonely and you were here. I was confused, and I wasn't thinking straight. I said a lot of things I didn't mean."

Each word that left your lips was a blow to his heart; all he could think was, "Mistake?"

"We both know it, Jaehyun. I loved you once, years ago. I don't feel the same way anymore."

He remains silent as he gets closer to you. Your breath gets stifled with each step he takes towards you. Without a word, he pulls your hand from your neck, revealing the bruises lined up along your skin. His stomach churns, seeing marks on you that aren't from him. His heart aches knowing that the person who left those marks is the person you're probably gonna end up with for the rest of your life.

"So you really do love him," Jaehyun utters.

"I do." You're certain this time. "I love him a lot."

"I guess that's all that matters then." Jaehyun's eyes dart from your neck up to your eyes. "I wish you the best of luck."

And with that you never saw him again. You never heard from him or about him. He just disappeared from your life, almost like he's never been there at all.

8 months later.

You prop your chin up on your palm as you review your emails. It's 3:45 a.m.; you should be sleeping. But sleep didn't come easy, and you always found that you were way more productive at night anyway.

You keep your eyes on the screen of your desktop when you hear Doyoung shuffle into the office. You can't see him, but you hear him pull a chair up beside you, and you can feel his gaze on you. After a few seconds, you go to remove the hair from your face, but Doyoung is faster as he pulls the strands behind your ear. Then, without a word, he goes back to watching you work.

"I can't focus if you're watching me," you say, finally, but your attention remains on the computer in front of you.

"I can't sleep if you're not next to me." He softly responds.

Finally, you divert your attention from the desktop to look at your boyfriend. "I'm sorry, it's just hard for me to sleep." you pout.

"It's okay, angel. Just keep working." He rubbed circles into your back while you continued answering the emails you couldn't finish the day before.

Not even five minutes pass, and you feel your eyelids grow heavy. "Fine, you win." You whine just loud enough for him to hear. "I'll come to bed."

You roll the chair around so your whole body is facing him. As soon as the words meet his ears, Doyoung grips the back of your thighs to carry you back to your shared bedroom. You wrap your thighs around his waist, with your arms around his neck.

"Would you like some tea, Angel?" he asks, and you can feel the vibrations through his chest when he does.

"no, thank you."

Doyoung smiles at your use of manners and carefully lays you down on the bed. Laying a kiss or two on your lips when you refuse to unwrap yourself from around him.

Taglist- @bluebeard67 @sofix-hc7 @jenmongiii

[sisiren]

I discovered Audacity was free and decided to make a TAZ: Balance edit! More information under the cut.

Song: Experience - Ludovico Einaudi

Quotes (in order of which they appear in the audio): “One day I made the decision to… stop championing other people's heroism and to take the direction of my life into my own hands.” - Lunar Interlude III, Rest and Relaxation

“This is just for a little bit, I’m gonna stop this, what we’ve done to this world.” - The Stolen Century 7

“And, I lost dear, dear friends because of that decision, but it was the only one to make.” - Lunar Interlude III, Rest and Relaxation

“I’m gonna find you a place where you can be happy again, it’s just for a little while, and then, you’ll remember, I promise.” - The Stolen Century 7

“Magnus Burnsides” - Here There be Gerblins 1

“T-A-A-K-O” - Here There be Gerblins 1

“Merle Highchurch” - Here There be Gerblins 1

“Barry Bluejeans” - Lunar Interlude V, Reunion Tour 1

“I’m Davenport” - The Stolen Century 7

“Blasted the letters L U P into the wall.” - Lunar Interlude III, Rest and Relaxation

“I pull out the Umbra Staff and I point it at Lucretia” - Story and Song, Finale 1

“You fucking took everything from me” - Story and Song, Finale 1

“Oh shit! Is it today?” - The Stolen Century 6

“It’s today.” - The Stolen Century 6

“I did this one already. I did this world and kind of… crushed it.” - The Stolen Century 1

“I’m begging you, let me finish this and we can talk about it.” - Story and Song, Finale 1

“Are you my friend?” - The Stolen Century 4

“To have friendship, Merle, it requires you to...[sighs] love someone.” - The Stolen Century 4

“Our capacity for love increases with each person we cross paths with throughout our lives, and with each moment we spend with those people.” - The Stolen Century 5

“I said: I love you, Jules.” -The Eleventh Hour 8

“You are my heart.” - The Stolen Century 6

“I - I love you dad.” - Story and Song, Finale 3

“I love you too, baby.” - Story and Song, Finale 3

“And these things, Merle, friendship and love and happiness, they’re- they’re all so… small.” - The Stolen Century 4

“But I’ve been living a hundred years with me and one year with millions of people.” - The Stolen Century 7

“Honestly; do whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.” - Story and Song, Finale 1

“Everybody else that I ever met, aside from the six of you, were dust.” - The Stolen Century 7

“Dead…got turned into ash.” - Lunar Interlude V, Reunion Tour 1

“They were just talking dust.” - The Stolen Century 7

“I have nothing, and I don’t give a shit. The world is ending, and I. Don't. Care.” - Story and Song, Finale 1

“But the one thing we do have, is the thing that people in love rarely ever have enough of. And it’s time.” - The Stolen Century 5

“You found her! Maybe not how you expected to, but when you weren’t looking you found her.” - Story and Song, Finale 1

“Who?” - The Stolen Century 7

“I wonder which one would be worse to take from you: the person that you loved or the person that you… hate.” - The Suffering Game 5

“They are beings of pure, concentrated evil.” - The Suffering Game 1

“And they’ve all been evil?” - The Suffering Game 1

“Invariably.” - The Suffering Game 1

“Lup, they don't trust me.” - The Eleventh Hour 9

“The light is a sickeningly powerful energy source. Any items powered by that energy are going to be...devastating.” - The Stolen Century 7

“This is it!” - The Stolen Century 7

“Lup made us promise that we would never again put a world in danger just to thwart The Hunger's plans. And that is exactly, exactly, what we did to this world!” - Story and Song, Finale 1

“Did we make the right decision?” - The Stolen Century 7

“Sometimes there aren’t right decisions. Sometimes there’s just decisions.” - The Stolen Century 7

“Kind of seems like I've got you right here.” - The Stolen Century 4

“And the devastation it wreaks is immeasurable.” - The Stolen Century 7

“What if you didn’t have to worry and you could just cut out the bullshit and do good recklessly?” - The Eleventh Hour 7

“Merle...will you sit with me? Just...just for a moment?” - Story and Song, Finale 3

“...You got it, buddy.” - Story and Song, Finale 3

“And suddenly thousands of bonds are threaded between the three of you.” - Story and Song, Finale 3

“I know we don’t say this enough, but… Thank you.” - The Stolen Century 7

“I saw seven birds: The Twins.” - The Crystal Kingdom 11

“You ready bro?” - The Stolen Century 7

“Hell yeah!” - The Stolen Century 7

“The Lover.” - The Crystal Kingdom 11

“It’s only been twe— Um… Twenty-one years…” - The Stolen Century 3

“The Protector.” - The Crystal Kingdom 7

“Magnus rushes in.” - Story and Song, Finale 3

“The Lonely Journal Keeper.” - The Crystal Kingdom 7

“I’m gonna save us all, I - I promise.” - Story and Song, Finale 1

“The Peacemaker.” - The Crystal Kingdom 7

“I find joy whatever I do.” - The Stolen Century 4

“And The Wordless One.” - The Crystal Kingdom 7

“Have we not… earned a little wrath?” - The Stolen Century 6

“You got all the time in the world, my man.” - The Stolen Century 3

[halliescomut]

Love Sky to Love Sea connection

Alright, so I was going over everything following the news that our beloved FortPeat are going to be the main couple in a new show for Mame.

And if you have been partaking in Mame BLs for a while, you may be aware that all of her novels and the shows that are based on them have existed in the same universe up until this point (a la the MCU). Following the creation of MeMindY she has not cast previous actors from her shows into new roles, instead having them return in cameos as the universe progressed forward.

It's easy to understand why she would choose this moment to recast FortPeat (and very likely BossNouel, but that confirmation will come in a couple of days). The chief reason of course being money, Love in the Air was arguably one of her most successful series, equaled only by TharnType. This is due to the stories, the performances, and also just luck of timing. The boom of BL shows for international audiences, from what I can tell, occurred in late 2021 - early 2022, with shows like Cutie Pie and Kinnporsche (and the impeccable chemistry presented in both) being some of the most common first forays into BL. I have only assumptions and inferences as to why this is, I think the popularity of shows like Love Victor and HeartStopper on streaming services led more people to essentially google more queer media, and found that there is a rather awesome amount being produced in Thailand, but in South East Asia and East Asia altogether. I also know a number of people were on the K-Drama to BL pipeline, assisted by Netflix and Viki. But back to my point, generally I think the popularity of MewGulf and JaFirst locally, or at least within SEA is fairly equal, but the inclusion of a much larger international audience at the time when Love in the Air came out has created a level of popularity that I don't think Mame expected.

I think another very valid reason why Love in the Air is incredibly popular is that while it exhibits some of her 'classic Mame' tropes like histories and instances of SA, and her ever-present 'No Kink', it is arguably one of the less problematic stories that we've seen on screen so far form her. (And this is coming from someone who actually likes a lot of Mame's stories, though I'd imagine my affection for brat-type characters is a leading cause of this.) This means that for many viewers for whom this was a first foray into Mame's universe and characters were not being immediately put off by some of the more problematic scenes and storylines presented in previous shows.

Mame has most certainly observed the potential for success in recasting these well-liked actors/pairs in other companies, top of said list being pairs like ZeeNunew, EarthMix, FirstKhaotung, and many others. So to take a pair whose chemistry and ease onset is equal to those and cast them in a new role, while breaking a previously established 'rule' is certainly a choice where the potential benefits far outweigh the risk. Literally the only 'risk' is potential confusion from those that are aware of the fact that ALL of Mame's work exists in a single universe, which if you came in on the LITA train is not likely to be something you would know. You may know of the clear connection to Sailom and Nuea presented in Wedding Plan, but connections to the further universe beyond LITA are limited to two rather small cameos that even I didn't pick up on immediately. (These cameos being the brief appearance of the twins and Leon from Don't Say No.)

So, I wanted to give an idea of what exactly is the connection between their existing LITA characters, but also the kind of show why it's really not going to be as big of a deal as far as causing confusion. This is a diagram of the existing Mame universe in terms of her novels, I've updated it as needed to include the connections to Prapai and adding in the Love Sea story as well. I have included a link to the original as well.

I've placed stars for the LoveSky/LoveStorm stories and then added ones by Love Sea and The Boy Next World (which we anticipate to star Boss and Noeul). Because the universe is so large, it is a bit confusing, so I did break it down into more simplified connections.

Hearts represent romantic relationships and the dashes are platonic. most of them are just friendships of various types, though Tharn and Pookan are cousins. But as you can see there is at least 5 people between the characters in LITA and the actors' new characters. So even in-universe the likelihood of these characters ever meeting would be slim, but beyond that the connection of LITA to the over-arching Love by Chance universe is pretty tenuous as previously mentioned.

In the case specifically of Love Sea, this is an unpublished novel, so it's possible Mame will remove or choose to leave out any mentions to the greater universe (meaning either changing the name of Kom's character if he is present in the scripted version, or leaving him out altogether). In the case of The Boy Next World, Pookan is related to Tharn, but let's be honest, do we really expect Mew to show up in a cameo? He's already moved on from Mame, TT, and the MewGulf ship. At best we may get fanservice in the way of a name drop, and it's possible we could see other characters from TT, but I'm skeptical. Since Pookan barely shows up in TT at all, the better option, especially with the passage of time since the first season of TT came out, is to have him be Tharn's cousin, but have him attending university after Tharn has graduated. And that's really only if you want to include that connection, you really don't have to. Given the amount of detail that we get about secondary characters in a lot of these shows, it wouldn't really be that difficult to simply rename any characters that cross over into the greater universe because there's just not going to be enough specific detail to really connect them.

I did also want to include the small amount that we know about Fort and Peat's new characters. We of course don't have much information yet, but there was some crumbs dropped at the recent fanmeet and appearances.

Their characters are Mahasamut(Fort) and Tongrak(Peat). Mahasamut is the son of a hotel owner who after a falling out is now living on his own. It looks as though he is quite young, along the same age of Fort IRL, and he is working as a tour guide to support himself. He is someone who is, I would say, likely lower income, and he's very ambitious and at this current time his goal is to kind of amass a certain amount of savings. He is running his own company as a tour guide and is considered very popular among foreigners both because he can speak good English but also because he is very charismatic. The information given at the fanmeet also includes that he has a diving certificate and is also good at fighting. How that will come up in the story, I don't know.😂

If their hints are to be believed, these characters will be in the same age dynamic as Fort and Peat meaning that Peat's character Tongrak will be older than Fort's character. Tongrak is a writer, specifically of romance novels. He is wealthy, though it is unclear if that is through his career or familial wealth. There's a strange emphasis on how beautiful he is, but in fairness Peat does very accurately fill that criteria. It also says that he does not talk about having a partner, he goes his own way, tends to be a loner. And this is with the implication that this is a result of past negative romantic experiences. Because Mame is who she is, there's also a possibility that part of his solitude is the result of past violence from a previous partner. Fort and Peat did state that they felt the story for this series is more challenging than Love Sky (which honestly scares me a little). But out of all of the stories Mame has told so far, I did feel that Sky's story was handled the best, so hopefully that trend continues.

It's not clear currently if Mame will be directing this series as well, previously she has only directed Wedding Plan, while all of her other series, even those produced by MMY did have other hired directors. We can see from the behind the scenes footage that even with a separate director, Mame was heavily involved in the filming, so her touch will be there regardless.

As far as further timelines, based on past series it is usually about 5-6 months from announcement of a series (and the cast) to the premiere of said series. It does depend on many different variables. The length of the show being one, as well as the level of difficulty. LITA was a more complex series with some pretty large set pieces (the night time races) and more complex scenes in terms of filming (the Stop and Payu race) in comparison to Wedding Plan. Since we don't have a published novel to study and theorize about potential scenes and the difficulties of filming, I can't really give much insight. I will say that the specific inclusion of the fact that Mahasamut holds a diving certification could indicate some diving/underwater filmed scenes. While those are not necessarily super complex, they can be time consuming, require special permits, are very weather dependent, and would require special filming equipment. I also very sincerely hope that if Mame does venture in that direction that she will also make sure that specialists with the necessary expertise are on set to maintain the safety of both the cast and crew. I know what the requirements are in western media, but not in Thailand. What all this boils down to though is that I would not expect the series to premiere earlier than February, and I'd put my bets on March. It's possible she may film a special trailer like she did with LITA, and if that happens, then we may see footage in late November or December, if not I expect a trailer after the New Year. A lot of this actively depends on when we get confirmation that filming has started.

I did also want to note, that while we expect Boss and Noeul to be the leads for The Boy Next World, since she is announcing that after Love Sea, I'm also expecting that to be filmed after Love Sea, even though we suspected that BNW was on the docket way back in March, Boss is still attached to Zomvivor with Mandee/Domundi, which could begin filming this fall, though that's not fully confirmed, it's based on the schedule presented at their look-aheads last year and what has already filmed and aired. But my point is that Boss may not be free to commit to the filming of BNW for a couple of months. There's a lot of variables that go into it.

But anyway...I hope this little rundown/update was helpful. If you have questions and I can answer them, my asks are open.

[salvatwh0re]

Hi Nina. So I've finally decided to pack my shit up and tap into the void. I've been trying for a few months now. I've tried everything including subliminals, (I've legit listened to subs for 24 hrs straight) guided meditations, affirmation tapes, challenges, mind reprogramming exercises, affirming a couple thousand times, psych k, alpha meditation, lucid dreaming, tapping in using awake methods like staying still for over 2 hours, sleep paralysis, etc.

But I've observed that I'm not very consistent/persistent with any of these methods and so for once I've decided to make a routine and stick to it. Also, whenever I usually come across any challenge, I tend to follow it but find myself wondering if I would need anymore methods, so I include a couple more additional methods by my own cause I think the challenge might not be enough and I keep doing this, but then it gets exhausting and draining and sometimes i leave it halfway.

So now that I've decided to stick to one plan finally, what do u think I should add to my routine? Which methods do u recommend me using? Thankyou so much💖 also I'm very exciteddd for ur challenge!!

Hi!! i’m so glad that you came to this realization.

in my experience routines just hold you back. It just gets your mind used to doing these methods and not getting any where and when you are consistently doing these methods you will, for the most part (and for most people including myself) not see results. Creating a habit and a routine just gets your mind used to doing methods and not seeing progress and that’s exactly what you’re going to see every time you do your “routine”

So what I suggest you do is loop my void state subliminal or my lucid dreaming subliminal either before bed or overnight and just lie down in a comfortable position talk to yourself in your head and truly get yourself to understand just how simple it is and that you do not need to do anything at all in order to tap into the void state because it’s just that simple and that the only reason you have not been able to tap in is because you’ve been over complicating it and limiting yourself. I know it seems difficult to just automatically switch your belief but I promise once you just go through with it and allow yourself to make it a simple process it will be.

There’s no need for any extravagant methods you don’t need to do any rituals before you enter the void the only thing I would suggest you do before meditate because it’s always great to go in with a calm and clear and a positive mentality.

[thecoffeelorian]

Plan 100...?

Plan 100 (Crosshair x Reader)

Premise: As the fourth installment of the "Surprise Guest" series, you and Crosshair are careful to let Omega rest on your way to your rendezvous point, but not without planning your own next few steps.

Word Count: 1.2 k.

Masterlist: The Surprise Guest Series

Story Notes: Hoo boy...I think I've just reached the 'deep in the underbrush' phase for the next leg of this saga, yet as I watched all of S1 and read the episode transcripts for the others, never mind beginning to take romance lessons from the "Bridgerton" show, editing this installment exactly 7 times, and slowly pulling out a few things from my personal life angst closet...I will not be doing this lightly. There is so much that I wish this show could have properly addressed as well rather than setting it up in every first half and then knocking it down in every second half, so I will do my absolute darndest to cover it all myself.

Special Notes: My credit goes to @stars-n-spice for creating the beautiful Crosshair header, as well as to @talesfrommedinastation for inspiring me to use a form of sign language for silent communication after watching "The Expanse".

No Pressure Tags: @momojedi @calicos-clones @bigboypantstime @youreababboon @techhasmjolnir

@tink1221 @ms-grassi @galaxyglittering @littlefeatherr @donntmindmejustwandering

@housepartyfortwo @beatthisbi @mysticalgalaxysalad @groguandthebadbatch @pendustt

@weirdest-lights @flyiingsly @courtney0-0 @emmaflame1336 @shadow-rebel-223

@littlemammoth69 @theosb0rnway @shazkenobi @reader6898 @maxims-multifandom-corner

@monster20045 @darkangel4121 @nevadastarrsworld @thatacefr @crosshair-lover

@bennieandthejets-5 @jamine-boi-124 @lani03sstuff @ttzamara @beezez-blog

@myeternalsin @sublimeclodkidcolor @nish-xiii @ash04w3 @clonereeses

@lllllmm @melymigo and anybody else who might be on the lookout for more Crosshair x Reader content, because I couldn't have made this series without you all. <3

You're out of that spaceport before whomever or whatever might be following you notices your escape, your family's slightly used shuttle giving you all the speed you need to make your flight. It’s quiet on board almost as soon as you leave the atmosphere, too, yet sometimes, quiet can be exactly what everyone needs to clear their heads.

Nowhere is this more evident than your own cockpit, a small but comfortable space that carries the control console; a few chairs with safety harnesses; one old childhood drawing of yours kept in a place of honor upon the wall, and a mini-fridge to the left. You had a few minutes to gather up some food and drinks before heading out, so of course, you were careful to add the packs of dried meat and lemonade so that at least one person could add some missing salt and sugar to their system if they needed it.

Someone like Omega, even, for she’s careful to ask you nicely before you hand her one of the lemonades. Whatever this one has just been through, wherever she’s been…you can only try your best to alleviate her transition back into society.

Wherever her society waits to be found, that is.

Once you reached deep space, though…Omega’s sound asleep in minutes, her half-empty cup hanging loosely in her right hand. This is, perhaps, a big convenience for you and Crosshair both, because you might not have to worry about her for a little while.

What you are able to do, at least for the duration of this trip, is start planning…and what Crosshair is able to help you come up with ends up exciting you and confounding you at almost the exact same time.

First comes that moon over Ryloth, as you originally agreed to in order to see Omega off. That’s certainly a given, considering you already agreed to his idea of separating himself from her so that any and all demanding guards that might come calling won’t be able to recapture them both.

After that, though—or so Crosshair does his best to explain—the two of you will, indeed, have to clear out not long afterward, with or without any harsh words from Hunter or Wrecker.

What harsh words, you signal to him, the both of you speaking with your hands so as not to wake Omega.

And why would they be mad at you?

I turned away, he signals back, and perhaps just a little too sharply judging by the pained look upon his face.

They had their ideas, I had mine, and now it’s too late for all of us.

I see…

An awkward silence passes between you both, and for a moment, you’re stuck wondering if you should ask any more questions, or else just be still until he starts up again. It’s suddenly very difficult for you to figure this out entirely on your own, as up until a certain point today, you thought you were going to spend another day by yourself.

Funny what difference a few hours can make.

Once you brace yourself to say something else, however, it’s here that he speaks first, signaling a bit slower for emphasis rather than controlled rage…or so you hope.

They clearly wanted to dig around the galaxy for scraps rather than ask for anything more secure.

Oh…? And is that where you were before you escaped? A ‘secure’ place?

Not exactly.

Another awkward silence. You’re both choosing your next words this time, a sure sign that you’re either learning how not to push the other into a fit of stress…or else falling apart long before you can ever try to get closer. You might not be so sure about what’s in Crosshair’s head right now, but you are sure of one thing.

You’re not ready to leave his side so quickly.

I thought playing by someone else’s rules would help keep me alive. Useful, even…but I obviously thought wrong.

Lucky for you, he’s talking again, though that left hand of his starts shaking a second time.

Not that it matters any longer. They already suggested that I’m too severe and unyielding to ever be around them, so it’s time I just let them all go.

What, do you—you think they’ll be happier if it’s just them and Omega?

They’ll certainly be safer, won’t they?

One more round of silence comes, only this time, you’re giving him all of one nod to signify your agreement with this plan. You might have gone out at least ten steps ahead of whatever guard or bounty hunter might become interested in your capture, but truly, that sense of a false peace could only last the three of you so long. Be it three days, three weeks, or even three months…all the necessary precautions would need to be made, for better or for worse.

In the meantime, though? Simple. You’re offering Crosshair both of your hands now, your palms up in a wordless invitation for him to either take hold of them, or else ignore them entirely. He certainly has room to do just about whatever he wants, considering he might not exactly be using weapons anytime soon.

“And…what about me? Should I also be dropped off?”

You remember to ask this in the lowest whisper possible, all the better to keep Omega from waking up or hearing any of your secrets.

“…You should not, Y/N.”

“Really? And why is that?”

You barely hold back a gasp as his hands meet yours, the unexpected joining of flesh and bone sending a surge of emotions through your body.

“Because—Because I think I like the thought of you tagging along a bit more.”

Your head is reeling at this point, so much so that it’s a curious miracle that you haven’t given yourself vertigo yet.

No matter how much you might have also tried to hold yourself back, your body suddenly feels light as a feather, so you’re quietly relieved when you manage to push one foot behind the leg of your seat to keep yourself from floating straight up to the ceiling. This stranger, this Trooper, has just consented to you remaining at his side with no sign of sarcasm or jokes at your expense…and, be it only until you find yourselves a new refuge or not, you’re certainly beginning to feel the same way.

The last few hours have, for better or for worse, had that effect upon you.

In fact, maybe...maybe this is just the beginning of something grand, some new adventure that you never dreamed of having before, but which clearly may have just found you at long last. Maybe you're on your way to someplace fresh and new, and with it, a chance to be something more than just some forgotten flight controller's child or some diner owner that nobody else really notices.

Maybe this is about to become your second act, and you need only step out onto the stage in order to claim your true place in the world.

And, once the two of you find a safe place to land together, whichever planet and community that place may be a part of…you can’t wait to find out if Crosshair might feel that same affect right beside you.