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angellcherry · 3 months

Text

— home.

» pairing: jungkook x reader

» genre: fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, nsfw

» synopsis: “show me your thorns, and I'll show you hands ready to bleed.”

» warnings: allusions to depression, brief mentions of self harm (nothing graphic!), a little bit of angst, cuddling, reassurance, jungkook is a big green flag, talks of therapy and healing, confessions, lots of kisses, he's down bad and so in love :( (they both are), pet names, soft!dom jk, slight size kink, missionary bc he needs to look at her and kiss her 😩, praise, dirty talk, choking, creampie, aftercare

His hand curled around the nape of your neck the moment your lips touched. Warmth trickled down your spine, and he titled his head; tongue prodding at your soft lips, like he wanted you down to the marrow. Like he wanted to dip into your soul, kiss after kiss, until he was completely submerged; until he's explored every nook and crevice, felt every bump and crack.

He pulled away from the heat of your mouth slowly, reluctantly, eyes half lidded and dark. Lungs expanding to take in more air, voice coming out hoarse.

"You weren't answering your phone..."

"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry."

Jungkook shook his head.

"No need to be sorry, baby," he lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the soft skin there. "I was just worried."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. You sank into his embrace so easily; like you just came home. In a way, you have. He hasn't seen you in over a week...

It may not have seemed like much, but your absence was tangible. Suffocating. Especially when he didn't know if something was wrong.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.

You turned your head to peck his shoulder, fingers entwining, and then you were walking towards his bedroom as though it was second nature. The change in your demeanor had the corners of Jungkook's eyes crinkling from smiling. You practically skipped over to his bed, hopping onto the large mattress.

"Can I get a shirt, please?"

He didn't think you comprehended how fucking cute you were. He turned to open his closet and began rummaging through it.

"At this point, I'm pretty sure I'd kill someone if you asked me," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, baby."

Flushing, he ignored the curious tilt of your head and threw you his favorite t-shirt.

God, how could someone be so fucking cute?

You were always excited to nap in his bed, share food and wear his clothes. The fact that it brought you comfort made his already lovesick heart swell up and ache. Something so simple, but so domestic — it fucked with his head. He wanted this every day, in every life. You were his comfort, too. Why couldn't you see it?

He leaned against his closet, arms crossed, watching you slip out of your clothes, the heap landing on the floor. It was art. You were so beautiful; inside and out. He couldn't help the way his stomach stirred and heart fluttered, yet instead of acting on his urges, he just walked over to you and bent down to pick up your clothes.

While you got into his shirt, he folded them neatly and placed them on his gaming chair.

"I missed this bed so much," you sighed.

Jungkook glanced over at you, taking a moment to drink in the image of you lying there, the black cotton of his shirt slightly too wide and too long for your body; but fuck, it looked perfect to him. He bit his lip, making his way to climb onto the mattress beside you.

"What about me?" He asked, delighted by how you opened up your arms, instinctively scooting closer to him.

"Hm, what about you?"

Jungkook pouted, eyebrows furrowing. His arms wrapped around your waist.

"Hey."

You giggled, peppering his face with kisses, and he wished he could live in this moment forever, stop all the clocks, kill time. To hell with what that would do to the universe.

"I missed you, too."

Just like that, he melted. Somehow, it hurt so bad; he had you right there, and yet he didn't. Disappearing and reappearing. Out of reach, like a mirage.

He lifted your hand to his lips again, momentarily distracted by how small it was compared to his.

"So tiny."

Amused at the scoff you let out, he turned it to kiss your palm, then paused abruptly.

A raw shade of red caught his attention.

Narrowing his eyes, he examined the wounds around multiple fingers — or at least tried to, before you caught on and pulled your hand away like you got burned.

His heart dropped.

It's been a while. Why were you doing this to yourself again?

Fuck. He felt like a failure of a man.

He swallowed thickly, then pulled you in closer, as if treading on thin ice. Terrified of making a mistake and feeling it crack under his weight. Once he was under, once it all fell apart, he didn't know if you'd let him in again.

"Baby..." he whispered into your hair.

"I'm so tired, Jungkook," mellow, you answered the question he didn't get to ask. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."

"Talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you shut me down."

You sniffed quietly. There was a loud crack. Not in the ice, but in his chest.

"You can't help me either way."

Jungkook tried to lift his head to look at you, but you gripped his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your hand.

"Baby—"

"Not everyone deserves help," you insisted, a wet sigh following. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I help myself? E-everyone else seems to be doing just fine, a-and I'm just rotting away, filled with these ugly thoughts and feelings, I can't do anything right."

Jungkook hugged you tighter, like he hoped he could mould you together, give you as much of him as you needed to feel whole again. He'd let you rip him to pieces to fill the void.

"Stop saying that," he breathed, his eyes burning, "fuck, stop saying that."

He stroked your back as you cried into his chest, softly, feeling helpless and furious at the same time.

"When you're always in the dark," he whispered, "you learn to make friends with monsters to survive. It's all you know, so it's what feels most comfortable."

He heard you inhale, felt your head lift with hesitation. Eyes swollen, glossy, lower lip still trembling.

Jungkook cupped your face, wiping at the wet streaks.

"When you're always in the dark, sometimes... it feels like it's all you deserve. But it's not your fault. You're not a bad person," he said softly, his thumb rubbing your lower lip. "Sometimes, it's just the monsters you know talking."

You blinked, small and vulnerable, like a child who just woke up from a nightmare.

"I... I don't know..."

Jungkook squeezed your waist, so close his nose almost touched yours.

"But I know," he promised. "I know."

He stared into your eyes, watched them well up with more tears. He wished he could kiss them all away.

"Let me be there for you—"

You kissed him, and once again, it hurt. Because he wanted you, he wanted you so bad, but not like this — why didn't you want him, too?

Outside of the bedroom, when you weren't tangled in sheets, it seemed like you had no interest in letting your walls down. He's spent so much time trying to climb them, only to end up with broken bones, back down on the ground again.

He couldn't do this anymore.

He pulled away from your lips, denying you the oblivion you craved. He wanted to let you use him, he'd do it every day if it meant he could see you again. But he was afraid that if he didn't speak up now, he'd never find the courage to do it.

"I want to be with you," he breathed out. "Why won't you let me love you?"

There was an instant change in your expression that made his stomach lurch.

"I— I..."

A pause, filled with uncertainty.

Jungkook searched your eyes. The windows to the soul, they said. Broken, and the interior was dark. Nothing good lurked in there.

"I love you," he repeated.

His heart pounded in his chest. He stared right into this endless darkness, crawling with insecurities and fear. As though he was hoping the warm whisper would chase away the frigid, haunted air breaking through, make all the other voices come to a halt.

He was no longer a boy, but a man, and he feared no monsters. He wanted to flood the space with light.

"Move in with me," his palm settled on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I'll help with your classes and therapy. I'll take care of you. You can lean on me until you're strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, when you do — I still wanna be there. I wanna make you happy... Every day."

There it was. His heart, right in the palm of your hand, like an offering. Bleeding through your fingers. Willing to be crushed, if it meant at least he tried.

But you cradled it instead.

Fresh tears, sticking to your eyelashes, and then a rush of warmth in the dark. Your lips pressed into his, tender, and he shut his eyes, tasting a mixture of salt and your sweetness —

"I love you," a shaky exhale, right into his mouth.

It sank into him like sunlight, pulsing, nourishing and bright. And he swallowed it up with a kiss, his teeth clashing with yours.

He shifted to hover above you, finding rest in between your legs, goosebumps erupting when he felt your hand slip under his hoodie, inching it up.

A giggle slipped past his lips, and he disconnected himself from you only to take it off, throwing it aside carelessly before he was kissing you again.

He felt you smile. You went straight to his head like wine. Your taste, your scent — your touch, exploring the muscles of his back, his shoulders.

He was already hard, aching to get lost in you; dizzy on want and love.

Hands groping over clothes, wherever they could reach, hot lips trailing down your neck. He wanted to do so many things to you; kiss every inch of your skin, make you come on his tongue.

But you had the whole night — a whole eternity, really. And the way you squirmed beneath him, arching your back, legs parting, hips raising to feel him, urgent and breathy, wiped his mind clean off anything but the need to be inside you.

Jungkook groaned, his cock twitching, leaking precum into the cotton of his boxers. He remained still, however, letting your hand wander in between your bodies.

His eyes were glued to the way it traveled down his tensing abdomen, pausing to lower his sweats; then dipping inside.

He tried to stay quiet, though his chest was heaving, the sight and the feeling of your hand wrapping around his girth making it twitch again.

He watched you pull your panties aside, wet and ruined, revealing your pretty, glistening folds and the small entrance below.

So fucking small.

It looked almost obscene compared to his cock, long and thick and pulsating in your hand. But you fit him perfectly, like you were made just for him.

The moment you guided him forward, and the wet tip touched the heat of your cunt, he lifted his eyes to yours.

He felt so fucked out, but he was gentle as he pushed inside. The tight, wet muscle welcomed him eagerly, inch by inch, until his hips touched yours and he couldn't breathe.

For a moment, time stood still.

His head fell into the crook of your neck, inked hand squeezing your thigh.

"I missed you so much."

He sounded broken, but he's never felt so whole before.

"I missed you too..."

You clenched around him, prompting his hips to move off their own accord, coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of your body. The wetness, the smack of his skin against yours; the soft whines that fueled the heat boiling deep in his gut.

"Mmm," he moaned, raspy, "doing so well, baby."

He tried to stretch you out slowly, preoccupy himself with biting and sucking at your neck; anything not to focus on how you clenched around him.

But he was doomed, and he understood that the second you moved your hips, fucking him back.

"Oh shit," he gasped, "baby..."

He stifled another moan into your cheek, picking up his pace, so deep inside you he wondered if you could feel him in your tummy. The thought alone made his cock throb, every vein and ridge.

Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your throat, the pressure soft, but definitely there. In return, you grasped his shoulders, nails digging in, and Jungkook knew he wasn't going to last long.

"Good?" He breathed, slamming into you a little faster, stuck on your shining eyes and eager nods. "Yeah?"

The mattress began to protest under the force of his thrusts, but the sound was drowned out by everything else. Jungkook felt your cunt tightening, so warm and so fucking sloppy, his own little personal heaven.

"Almost there? Hm? Gonna make a mess for me?"

Clench.

He groaned, his tummy twisting, the moans spilling past your lips making his head spin.

You merely nodded again, as though you couldn't speak. It made the corner of his lips quirk upwards.

"Yeah?" He tightened his hold on your neck, staking his claim with a coo. "My girl's gonna make a mess on my cock? Pretty angel's gonna cream all over it?"

Your breath hitched, thighs beginning to quiver around him.

"Y-yeah," you uttered, breathless, "yours—"

Jungkook's tongue slid into your mouth, his rutting becoming desperate. He wanted to mark you and brand you and oh god — he was about to see stars.

"Yeah, fuck— mine, my good girl," he stuttered out, "oh, baby, mhmm, I'm gonna come—"

His hips bucked as your pussy spasmed around him, sucking his cock in deeper, restricting his movements. Still, he fucked you through your orgasm, letting himself go with a loud groan. A burst of stars, the tension snapping; and he spilled inside you, white ropes of hot cum that filled you up to the brim.

He slumped against you after a drawn out moment, his body thrumming with bliss. Careful not to crush you, however, he rolled over to the side, his arms automatically enveloping your frame.

With his nose in your neck, he waited for his breathing to even out, lazily rubbing your hands.

"So good," he mumbled, "fuck... Are you okay, baby?"

You hummed, snuggling into him.

"More than okay."

Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and pressing a kiss into your cheek.

"I'll wash you up in a sec."

"In a bit... Stay with me."

"I'm staying with you forever. Good luck getting rid of me now."

Your laughter sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to keep hearing it.

He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissed each wounded finger, muttering his I love yous and praises until you both drifted off. Sated and warm under the sheets, tangled up in each other; with a single promise echoing through his head.

Never again would he let you hurt like this.

And whatever was happening outside of these four walls hardly mattered.

This was all that mattered.

This was home.

#hi! 👋#I literally made this blog just to get this fic out of my system lmao 💕#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts fluff

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centrally-unplanned · 10 months

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We (somewhat rightly) mock the 2000's era fansub translation notes for their otaku fixations and privileging of trivia over the media, but they should be understood as serving their purpose for a bit of a different era in the anime fandom. Take this classic:

Like, its so obvious, right? Just say "pervert", you don't need the note! Which is true, for like a 'normie' audience member who just wants to watch A TV Show - but no one watching, uh *quick google* "Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne" in 1999 is that person. The audience is weebs, and for them the fact that show is Japanese is a huge selling point. They want it to feel as 'anime' as possible; and in the west language was one of the core signifiers of anime-ness. 2004 con-goers calling their friends "-kun" and throwing in "nani?" into conversations was the way this was done, and alongside that a lexicon of western anime fandom terminology was born. Seeing "ecchi" on the screen is, to this person, a better viewing experience - it enhances their connection to otaku identity the show is providing, and reinforces their shared cultural lexicon (Ecchi is now a term one 'expects' anime fans to know - a truth that translator notes like this simultaneously created and reflected).

But of course your audiences have different levels of otaku-dom, and so you can't just say 'ecchi' and call it a day - so for those who are only Level 2 on their anime journey, you give them a translation note. Most of the translation notes of the era are like this - terms the fansubber thought the audience might know well enough that they would understand it and want that pure Japanese cultural experience, but that not all of them would know, so you have to hedge. The Lucky Star one I posted is a great example of that:

Its Lucky Star, the otaku-crown of anime! You desperately want the core text to preserve as much anime vocab as possible, to give off that feeling, but you can't assume everyone knows what a GALGE is - doing both is the only way to solve that dilemma.

This is often a good guideline when looking at old memetically bad fansubs by the way:

This isn't real, no fansub had this - it was a meme that was posted on a wiki forum in 2007. Which makes sense, right? "Plan" isn't a Japanese cultural or otaku term, so there is no reason not to translate it, it doesn't deepen the ~otaku connection~.

Which, I know, I'm explaining the joke right now, but over time I think many have grown to believe that this (and others like it) is a real fansub, and that these sort of arbitrary untranslations just peppered fansub works of the time? It happened, sure, but they would be equally mocked back then as missteps - or were jokes themselves. Some groups even had a reputation for inserting jokes into their works, imo Commie Subs was most notable for this; part of the competitive & casual environment of the time. But they weren't serious, they are not examples of "bad fansubs" in the same way.

This all faded for a bunch of reasons - primarily that the market for anime expanded dramatically. First, that lead to professionally released translations by centralized agencies that had universal standards for their subs and accountability to the original creators of the show. Second, the far larger audience is far less invested in anime-as-identity; they like it, but its not special the way its special when you are a bullied internet recluse in 2004. They just want to watch the show, and would find "caring" about translation nuances to be cringe. And since these centralized agencies release their product infinitely faster and more accessibly than fansubs ever did, their copies now dominate the space (including being the versions ripped to all illegal streaming sites), so fansubs died.

Though not totally - a lot of those fansub groups are still around! Commie Subs is still kicking for example. They either do the weird nuance stuff, or fansub unreleased-in-the-west old or niche anime, or even have pivoted to non-anime Japanese content that never gets international release. But they used to be the taste-makers of the community; now they are the fringe devotees in a culture that has moved beyond them. So fansubs remain something of a joke of the 90's and 2000's in the eyes of the anime culture of today, in a way that maybe they don't deserve.

#may have said this before - it be that way sometimes #anime culture discourse

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guzhufuren · 1 month

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A Guide to Some of the Best Queer Asian Shows

The guide includes a show’s basic summary; main genres/tropes/themes and official streaming links (additional info on how to watch at the end of this post)! You can find some content warnings in the reply section of this post. Shows are listed by countries, numbered by the order I recommend watching in, not by rating. All shows have happy endings unless specified otherwise. The list will hopefully be updated regularly (last updated on 04/04/2024, 98 queer shows in total).

Most shows are about mlm, I specify with coloured notes those that are focused on wlw, polyamory, aromantism/asexuality, etc.

Tumblr does not allow large texts or more than 30 images per post at the moment, so you can click on every country’s list to expand them and view them fully in a separate post. You can access this guide in a google doc here.

Thailand 🇹🇭 (full list here)

1. KinnPorsche mafia boss/bodyguard; action; kidnapper/kidnapee side couple

Kinn, a son of a prominent mafia head, is ambushed by an enemy, and meets Porsche, a bartender who comes to his rescue for a price, thus beginning their reluctant relationship as boss and bodyguard, which soon turns into something more.

iQIYI

2. Bed Friend friends with benefits; office setting; trauma

King and Uea work in the same office. After a company outing ends in a drunken hook-up between them, Uea and King agree to keep seeing each other on a strictly physical basis. With no strings attached, will these two be able to keep things between them simple and carefree or will their emotions eventually get the better of them?

Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or GagaOOLala or cut on YouTube

3. The Sign reincarnated lovers; fantasy; thai mythology; police

The story of the love between Phaya and Tharn who used to be mythological creatures Naga and Garuda in their past lives, and were forced apart. But fate intervened, and two men were reincarnated in new bodies. Now, they work together as partners in the Special Investigations Unit to uncover violent crimes and supernatural mysteries while their love is tested by mystical forces and past enemies.

YouTube

4. I Feel You Linger In The Air period drama; time travel; bittersweet

Jom, an architect overseeing the renovation of a rundown villa, continuously dreams of a man he's never met. When a twist of fate transports Jom to Chiang Mai in the 1920s, he assumes the role of a servant to the affluent young master Yai, the mysterious man from his dreams.

GagaOOLala or YouTube

5. You're My Sky sports; university setting; coming of age

Thorn, a young basketball player follows his senior Fah to university as a result of the promise they’d made — to become national basketball champions. However, to his dismay, he finds that Fah has already given up on basketball. --- Aai has to work in pairs throughout the semester with San, 1 year footballer; in order to receive a scholarship to study in Japan, Ai must be willing to do everything to get an A grade. --- Track running requires the compatibility of the team members to be very high. Vee, who became the new racquet 4, has to speed up training to fit in with the team as quickly as possible, especially with Dome, spending extra time together to train. Is love actually a major obstacle on the path of being an athlete?

Viki

> more tv shows from Thailand

GMMTV Thailand 🇹🇭 (full list here)

1. My School President high school setting; secret crush; school president/rebel musician

Gun is the head of his high school music club. Tinn is a school president and Gun's long-term rival. The Principal wants to disband some of the school’s “useless” after-school clubs, especially the music club. Per school rules, the student council president is the one who has the power to dissolve clubs. Gun is now at Tinn’s mercy, so he attempts to do whatever he can to persuade his rival not to cancel the music club. Little does he know, Tinn actually has a secret crush on him. Could romance brew as Gun makes a desperate attempt to secure the future of his band?

Viki (MSP) & YouTube (Our Skyy special 33-40) & YouTube (special)

2. Moonlight Chicken adult romance; age gap; deaf character

Jim is an ordinary guy running a chicken rice diner. One night, he meets Wen when he stays past closing drunk. Brought together by fate that night, intangible feelings arise. Neither can stop thinking about the other despite Jim's efforts to remain unattached. Jim also takes care of his nephew Li Ming, who is falling in love with Heart, a deaf teenager who is practically kept under house arrest by his affluent parents.

YouTube

3. Not Me revolution; freedom fighters; secret twins

When his twin Black is viciously attacked and subsequently left hospitalised in unconsciousness, White is unable to endure the harm done to his brother in silence. He learns Black was a part of a gang of anti-capitalist freedom fighters, and it was one of them who betrayed him. White disguises himself as Black to discover which one of them betrayed him and put him in a coma.

YouTube

4. 23.5 wlw; high school setting; secret admirer

Ongsa moves to a new school and meets Sun, a cute popular girl who she immediately falls for. However, she decides to approach Sun in instagram dms under the pseudonym Earth, leading Sun to believe she's talking to a guy. But Ongsa does not want to lose the opportunity to talk to Sun, so she decides to keep the fact that she is a girl a secret and continue talking as Earth.

YouTube

> more tv shows from GMMTV Thailand

Japan 🇯🇵 (full list here)

1. Cherry Magic! mind reading; secret crush; office setting

By still being a vіrgin at 30, Adachi gains a magical power – the ability to read other people's minds by touching them. At first, he’s overwhelmed by his new ability, and it’s not proving to be helpful to him. But that all changes when he accidentally touches their office’s most perfect guy Kurosawa, who he learns has romantic feelings for him.

WeTV (Cherry Magic) & no international streaming of Cherry Magic The Movie is available to my knowledge, so watch on bilibili or KissKH

2. Kieta Hatsukoi (My Love Mix-Up!) misunderstanding; high school setting

Aoki has a crush on Hashimoto, the girl in the seat next to him in class. But he despairs when he borrows her eraser and sees she's written the name of another boy — Ida — on it. To make matters more confusing, Ida sees Aoki holding that very eraser and thinks Aoki has a crush on him!

Viki

3. Our Dining Table food; child character

Salaryman Yutaka finds it difficult to share meals with other people. However, his life starts to change when one day, his cooking attracts the attention of a young boy named Tane and his older brother Minoru. The two brothers are impressed by Yutaka's cooking skill and invite him to their house to cook together. Yutaka's dreary life begins to change, and soon he finds himself looking forward to the meals he shares with the Ueda siblings together, as well as developing a taste for romantic feelings.

GagaOOLala

4. She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat wlw; neighbours; self-discovery; food

Nomoto loves to cook, but tends to make too much food and has no one to share it with. Luckily for her, turns out her neighbor Kasuga has a big enough appetite for the both of them.

No international streaming available, translated to english by Furritsubs, S1 & S2, watching instructions provided, please support translator on kofi.

5. Takara-kun to Amagi-kun high school setting; relationship exploration

Takara is a good-looking popular guy in class, while Amagi is a simple but bright and pure fellow classmate. The two begin to date in secret after Amagi's blurted out confession.

Viki or GagaOOLala

> more tv shows from Japan

China 🇨🇳 (full list here)

Most chinese shows are adapted from explicitly queer novels, the shows are undeniably and obviously queer, but nevertheless the queer romance part is censured. The only exception is number 4 on the list, it is not censored.

1. The Untamed period drama; fantasy

An epic fantasy led by a problem child who comes back from the dead 16 years later in order to fix the broken world he left behind — and finally unite with his soulmate.

YouTube

2. Word of Honor period drama; fantasy

The leader of assassin organisation Zhou Zishu quits his position in pursuit of freedom with drastic measures. In his travels, he meets Wen Kexing, the leader of Ghost Valley who wants nothing but revenge. The two become entangled in various machinations within the martial arts world, and eventually become soulmates instrumental in each other's redemption.

YouTube & Special Episode on Tumblr or DailyMotion

3. Couple of Mirrors wlw; period drama; socialite/assassin

You Yi is a kind-hearted socialite and a successful author. Her perfect life is turned upside-down when she discovers a betrayal by the two most trusted people in her life. With no one left to turn to, she finds refuge in the friendship and support of Yan Wei, a lonely female killer disguised as the owner of a photo studio.

YouTube. the show doesn’t have a happy ending, but it can be a happy ending for you if you stop watching at episode 12 timestamp 28:02.

4. Stay With Me enemies to lovers; high school setting; unconventional families; slow burn

Su Yu is a high school student who lives with his single poor father. Su Yu gets a new classmate Wu Bi. The two clash right from the start, and after getting off on the wrong foot, their explosive relationship takes a turn.

YouTube or GagaOOLala. the show doesn’t have a happy ending, but it can be a happy ending for you if you stop watching at episode 24 timestamp 05:00. OR watch the full thing and look at this post after

5. The Spirealm inside of a video game; mystery; fantasy; horror-ish; hopeful ending

A game designer Lin Qiushi is transported inside of a game he recently played, and now he must go through 12 horrifying survivor game doors to survive in the real world. Inside his first door he meets Ruan Nanzhu, a mysterious man who offers him to team up.

The show was taken down from streaming, download files here and subtitles here.

Various WLW mini web-dramas here.

Various WLW short films here.

South Korea 🇰🇷 (full list here)

1. Love for Love's Sake inside of a video game; high school setting; healing

At the age of 29 Tae Myungha finds himself transported into a fictional video game, and now 19 years old, he meets Cha Yeowoon, who is in the darkest moment of his life. And a translucent window appears where he receives a mission — to make Cha Yeowoon happy.

iQIYI (better subtitles) or GagaOOLala

2. Semantic Error enemies to lovers; university setting

A serious programmer and a rebellious artist clash over a school project. Their animosity keeps escalating to new extremes, defined by petty pranks and feisty arguments.

Viki

3. Love Tractor farm setting; farmer/city musician

Sunyeol, a city man with zero ability to survive in the countryside, comes to his grandfather's rural home. In front of him appears Yechan, a passionate and kind young farmer. While learning about rural life and assisting with farming tasks, Sunyeol gradually finds himself drawn to Yechan's warm and straightforward nature, while Yechan helplessly falls for Sunyeol.

iQIYI

4. Our Dating Sim high school friends to lovers; office setting

After 7 years, Lee Wan meets his first love, Shin Kitae, in a gaming company. When they were best friends in high school, Lee Wan was in love with Kitae. But he ran away and disappeared after confessing his feelings to Kitae after graduation. When the two of them begin working on a new dating simulation game and get more immersed in the project, old feelings are rekindled.

Viki or GagaOOLala

5. She Makes My Heart Flutter wlw; bar setting; niece and aunt dynamic

The extroverted Gang Seol is hired by her aunt Jung at her only-women bar. Even though they are both lesbians, they seem to be worlds apart and have very different love stories.

YouTube

> more tv shows from South Korea

Taiwan 🇹🇼 (full list here)

1. History3: Trapped mafia boss/policeman

The story of a police officer who becomes trapped in the underworld, as he develops feelings for a gang leader.

YouTube or Viki

2. Kiseki: Dear to Me mafia; age gap

Bai Zongyi, an exemplary high school student with dreams of becoming a doctor, is one day unexpectedly drawn into the world of a charismatic and mischievous gangster Fan Zerui, who blackmails him into taking him in and treating his wounds. Just as their love story begins to unfold, Fan Ze Rui's criminal life catches up with him. On the other hand, Chen Yi and Ai Di are two orphans who grew up in the gang together. Ai Di has always loved Chen Yi, but Chen Yi only notices their boss.

Viki or GagaOOLala or YouTube

3. My Tooth Your Love dentist/chef; trauma healing

Bai Lang is a successful bistro owner with an severe fear of visiting the dentist... until a toothache forces him to come face to face with the handsome yet cold dentist Jin Xunan.

Viki

4. Anti Reset android/human

When Chu Yi Ping, an emotionless man, dislocates his hand in an accident at school, his uncle gives him Ever 9 as a caretaker, an experimental intelligent robot that his company is secretly testing.

Viki or iQIYI or GagaOOLala

5. History2: Crossing the Line sports; high school setting

When an injury sidelines a high school senior from the volleyball team, he develops feelings for a recruit.

YouTube or Viki

> more tv shows from Taiwan

Philippines 🇵🇭

1. Sleep With Me wlw; radio; disabled character in a wheelchair

A science textbook writer with a sleep disorder meets a wheelchair-using radio host who runs the midnight shift. This chance encounter at the radio station quickly sparks their interest in each other.

GagaOOLala

---

You can watch many shows for free on YouTube, and watch others on the streaming websites by setting VPN to one of the countries in the list. In other cases I recommend paying for subscriptions to show appreciation and support of content in order to get more of it in the future, but if you can’t, watch on KissKH (better quality), Dramacool or get files from MkvDrama. Enjoy! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

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eyesthecolorofarson · 3 months

Text

Soul healing

Damian was angry.

He was one of their best fighters, knew the layout of Arkham like the back of his hand, AND was on good terms with both Riddler and Ivy! Why wasn’t he allowed to help in the breakout? What was the point of making him babysit!?!

Father had said he was to keep the child safe but he’d neglected to say why. And honestly, the child was three months old. Who would be hunting down an infant, why would they be hunting down an infant, and what would they do with an infant? If anyone was after the child, that is.

The infant in question was babbling incoherently and rolling around on her stomach. She squealed and he huffed. All he knew about her was the information in her file, which was surprisingly little. Three months old, no name and orphaned, she was of Brazilian heritage and her blood tests located her place of origin as Blüdhaven. She was moved to Gotham to be fostered, which is one of the stupidest decisions he’s ever heard of.

The foster parent in question was Daniel ‘Danny’ Nightingale. Nightingale showed incredible intelligence, graduating upper primary school two years early and high school in two. Currently a student at Gotham University Nightingale was double majoring in chemistry and aerospace engineering when he decided to apply for a New Jersey foster license, which he was given due to already having one in both Wisconsin and Ohio as well as his incredible record.

Nightingale was in the room with him and the infant. He was 14 years of age and had short black hair much like himself, but Nightingale was disturbingly pale and had almost ultramarine blue eyes. Nightingale was sitting with the child in front of his place on the couch. There was a gate in a circle connected to each end of the couch that contained a multitude of children’s toys and a few books. The infant was currently playing with a keychain-like toy while Nightingale entertained her.

One part of him wanted to sit and stew in his contempt, but the other, the son of the Bat, was deeply curious. What was so special about this child that it warranted him–an Al Ghul, Robin, heir to the mantle of Bat and Demons Throne–to act as bodyguard? Was it her heritage—correction, what was her heritage, because there was no other reason for her to be hunted. What else could it possibly be?

But when he began paying attention to the infant, it made him realize that the child was not the oddity he was sent to watch, but Nightingale. Nightingale acted normal for the most part, but when the infant made a certain sound–a loud shriek–his pupils would retract and slit before expanding again, like a cats. That wasn’t the oddest thing he noticed.

Nightingales teeth were sharp, and the more he babbled and cooed at the infant the more teeth Damian could see. It appeared all his teeth were canines except for the teeth in the normal place for canines. Those four teeth were long and thin, like a vipers. When the light hit his eyes his pupils shimmered, like a cat or an owls. His ears, which were slightly pointy, twitched every now and then. His nails were noticeably sharp as well, and his voice would sometimes distort. As if a record player were malfunctioning. And the infant would respond! Respond in that same distorted tongue. That loud shriek would turn into a two second wail that made his heartbeat rise to his ears and his vision blur. Then she would giggle or coo and it would end. He had to do something. Those wails were coming more and more often now, and she was starting to lose shape.

“What is this?” Damian snapped. “Don’t worry,” Nightingale told him gently, “this is normal for her species.” He blinked and processed his words. Species. She wasn’t human. “I’m surprised the Bat picked up on it,” Nightingale continued, “Humans aren’t usually susceptible to this sort of thing. But I also sorta expected it? Because he’s, y’know, Batman.”

Nightingale smiled sweetly as she shrieked again, her outline blurring and walls shaking. He could feel his teeth rattling in his head. Suddenly Nightingales jaw unhinged with a quick clicking sound, as if his bones were straining and breaking, and an even louder whistle-hissing sound came from between his now many, many teeth. She stopped, her mouth in an ‘O’ and her eyes wide. He didn’t notice before, but an infant her age shouldn’t have teeth. Especially that sharp. And her eyes were a light yellow color, like straw.

Then she giggled, and began babbling like she didn’t just use a sonic voice ability similar to Black Canary’s. “Dawww,” Nightingale cooed, tickling her, “she’s developing quickly! Garalings usually only start fawning when they start walking.” Damian watched warily. He didn’t want to get any closer, in all honesty. His ears were ringing.

But he was curious, so, so, curious. What was a Garaling? What was fawning and why did they do it after they began walking? Could all Garalings do this ‘fawning’? Compared to other Garalings, exactly how fast is she developing? Is early development common?

Start with the most important. “What is a ‘Garaling’?” Nightingale smiled at him again. “Garalings are an extradimensional species that reside in a place called The Valley. They act as lords of nature and patrons of a chosen plant or animal. Her fawning,” he tapped her nose and she giggled, “will soon turn into either an animal sound or a sound of her own.”

“Fascinating,” he muttered, “is it an attack?” “More like a call to arms,” Nightingale leaned back, relaxed, as the infant shook her toy. “Gathering her chosen animal or plant for whatever she needs.” Damian watched her chew on the toy, drooling and babbling.

“What are you?” “I’m dead. Well, sort of. How to explain this…” He thought for a moment. “Think of me….as the line between life and death, but not exactly limbo. More like I move the line. Sometimes more dead, and sometimes more alive. But always a bit of both.” Damian couldn’t help but be reminded of Todd. And himself.

“Your not from this earth.” Nightingale smiled sadly. “I used to be. But not anymore. Even so I can’t bring myself to fully leave, though I probably should.” “Why? What makes you stay?” Nightingales eyes drifted away, back to the infant. “I want to continue the life I never got to finish. Experience the things I never got to experience. Do what I always wanted to do, even if it’s too late.”

He could understand that. Nightingale looked to be his age. To be ripped from life so soon was something he worried about constantly. Knowing that Nightingale was…..He understood wanting to stay, to pretend to be alive.

“What brought her here?” Nightingales face tightened. “Cultists.” He sounded annoyed. “They exist in every world and their always fond of sacrificing children. Even though my summons specifically say if I’m offered children or anyone unwilling I’ll destroy the cult.” It took Damian a moment to understand the implications.

“….who are you?” Nightingale smiled at him again, and for a second his outline wavered like the infants had. “I am Danny Phantom, High King of the Infinite Realms, the afterlife dimension. I rule over everything and everyone who’s died, if they’ve stayed dead or not. I am The Warm Winter, The Space Between, The Brightest Star. I act as Defender Of The Undead.”

“And what do you plan on doing with her? Why did you take her if you do not accept living offerings?” It was suspicious. Even though Nightingale–Phantoms titles painted him as benevolent, and his stance on sacrifice was very pacifistic, Damian knew better than to trust him just on those facts alone.

But he was being very honest, and it made him wonder why. Compared to Phantom, he was microscopic, a nuisance even. Why was he answering all his questions with seemingly endless transparency? “Because her parents were apart of the cult that offered her, which is unfortunately a common case. I had to bring her here because I already have another offering child going to school here.”

“Another?” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “How many children have you kept?” He suddenly had a feeling. Not a bad one, just…a feeling. Phantom thought for a moment. “Well the first was Sirius, she’s from a dimension where people are made completely out of star matter. She doesn't live with me anymore since she’s all grown up now, but she’s a really popular singer in the Realms! I can see if she set up her inter dimensional and universal site, her music is great!”

“Casey is my second, he was offered when he was about ten and he’s from a universe that’s essentially the same as this one but everyone has magic. He’s currently in his home dimension in school as well. He specializes in hydrokinese but he’s trying to learn Essokineses. He’s a really quick learner but has a tendency to either give zero or a hundred, no in between.”

“A few months after that I was offered a pair of twins in their twenties. Well, they were built to look to be in their twenties, their actual age is, as of now, seven. Their from a world where hyper realistic androids have no rights and are destroyed if they develop sentience, so when they did they were offered to me because they thought it would get through my rule. They named themselves Poppy and Posies. They don’t like to leave the Realm so their being homeschooled. They really enjoy learning and playing, and Poppy’s favorite thing to do is dance and Posies is jewelry making.”

“I got another infant from a dimension where everyone’s a centaur a few weeks ago. I named her Amaranthe and her lower half’s a sheep! She’s so cute. She’s not the best at walking yet but she loves jumping whenever she can. She likes playing perk-a-boo with the handmaidens. And the child going here is Aiden, he was offered a few months ago. He was originally from Kentucky but everyone in his hometown was apart of the cult and Lady Gotham likes me so we’re here now. He’s still rattled but being on earth helps him so he can stay as long as he likes. He wants to get into a trade school.”

“And this—“ Phantom tapped the infant on the nose, who giggled and grabbed his finger. “Is Velvet! Like I said she’s a Garaling from The Valley. I literally got her two weeks ago so her fake identity is pretty rushed and I think Batman could tell which is why you’re here. But I need to be here for Aiden, so she’s probably going to stay with me for at least another four weeks or until her room in the Realms is ready.”

“You have an adoption problem,” He groaned. God forbid his Father learn about this even though he knew he had to show him the footage being collected from his mask. Phantom laughed. “Probably. But it’s not like I could just give them away to someone else. Well, I could. But I don’t want to. I don’t have any family other than my sister, and she’s still alive. So it’s nice to have people running around the castle.”

He respected it. Even though he was suspecting Phantom was older than he appeared, his physical appearance was probably the age he died at, he was still going out of his way to take in not only traumatized adults and children but infants. He’d never dealt with infants but he had no doubt that they were a handful, even though Phantom said he had handmaidens he didn’t seem like the type to let them do everything.

“Have you had any problems with vigilantes such as myself? I know Batman can be quite forceful and rude if he encounters something he does not understand.” Phantom allowed Velvet to shake his fingers with surprising strength. “Nope! I’m very good at staying under the radar. That’s why I was so surprised when Batman sent you. Like I said, humans aren’t usually capable of picking up on things like the undead. But it’s probably that contaminated ecto you and him are covered in. Can I ask you about that, by the way?”

Contaminated Ecto? “Whatever do you mean by ‘contaminated’? What is this ecto?” Phantom held his hand up and Damian watched, fascinated and horrified, as Lazarus water bled from his skin and rose into a ball. “This is ectoplasm! Every ghost is made of it. It’s our blood, flesh and atoms all in one. Judging by the look on your face you’ve seen it before?”

Damian cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Uh, yes. We call it Lazarus water, and it comes from Lazarus Pits.” Phantoms eyes narrowed. “Pits? Like, a natural or artificial hole in the ground? It doesn’t move or flow in and out? It just sits there?” Damian told him yes and explained the way the League used the Pits, the effects of being revived or healed by the water. By the end Phantoms carefree attitude had left and in its place was someone who held himself like a king.

“Let me put Velvet to bed.” He waved his hand and the gate and various toys began to float and put themselves away as he picked up Velvet and walked away. He was alone for a few minutes, watching as the toys stacked neatly in a toy box and thinking. There was a whole species of people made out of Lazarus Water. Ectoplasm. Pure ectoplasm. What he’d experienced, had contact with, was apparently so corrupted that Phantom had noticed it.

Phantom came back and sat next to him, running a hand through his hair. “Ok, so; ectoplasm has a mind of its own. It connects with and enhances emotions. That’s why a lot of ghosts are angry or sad. Because the ectoplasm connects with the feelings they had when they were dying, and that’s why ghosts are so emotional. It’s all we’re made of. Some people don’t become ghosts but their emotions do. We call those blob ghosts.”

Phantom looked disturbed. “Ectoplasm can’t just sit there or else it’ll start to deteriorate, mold. It’ll become poisonous, borderline radioactive. It needs to be moving and connected with more ectoplasm to filter it out. Yes it does having insane healing properties but it’s not supposed to hurt you. Never supposed to hurt you. Again it has a mind of its own. Most ectoplasm wants to create new life, heal and help. If this Lazarus water is hurting people, it’s because it wants to. And that’s really, really bad.”

“You said it was boiling?” Damian nodded. “That’s also not good. Ectoplasm is supposed to be cold. That’s why most people who contact ghosts feel cold or the temperature drop. I’ve never heard of ectoplasm boiling before.” Phantom looked very troubled. “You said these pools are controlled by the League of Assassins?” At his nod he waved his hand and a small white circle appeared next to him.

Through the circle he could see only what appeared to be a bookshelf. Phantom traced the spine of a few before pulling one out and closing the circle, flipping through the book. Damian leaned over to read. It seemed to be a list of people. At first he didn’t recognize them, but then the name The Sensei appeared at the top of a page labeled ‘The Demons-Al Ghul’

It was a family tree. One he’d seen and studied more than a million times. It showed his ancestors, great grandfather, Ra’s, his Mother, Dusan, Nyssa, even Mara and I’son. And him. Phantom pointed at his name. “Is this you?” He swallowed.

There wasn’t any real point in lying. He already knew, but if his Father found out he’d get in trouble despite the recording showing Phantom had figured it out himself. “Uh, yes. Yes it is.” Phantom nodded then flipped more pages before coming across a map. He folded the page out and Damian saw it was seven small but detailed maps. Maps of the locations of the Pits.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, “Phantom you can not let anyone find this book. If this got into the wrong hands—“ Phantom laughed. “Don’t worry, Damian. These kinds of books are only in the castle library. No one other than me and my family can get in there.” He flipped through a few more pages before coming across one with a sketch of the Lazarus Pits. Phantoms eyes scanned the pages quickly, growing more concerned the more he read.

“Do you have any of these symptoms? The anger, lost time and enhancement?” Damian bit his lip. “I…used to. The Pit rage and blackouts faded after time and I have no enhancement that I know of. But, one of my brothers, Jason Todd…” Phantom muttered the name, opening another circle and pulling out another book. He flipped through it quicker than before and pointed at a page near the back.

“Jason Peter Todd-Wayne?” Damian nodded. Phantom sighed again. “He’s a revenant, an angry spirit that was put to rest and then forced back into life. It’s no wonder these symptoms stuck with him; this Pit probably attached itself to his barely formed core. It’s a miracle his body’s still functioning.”

“What’s a core?” Damian leaned over and red more names in the book, all unrecognizable. “A core is a ghosts soul. Each core has a sort of unique elemental power or structure to them. I have an ice core.” Phantom opened his hand and Damian watched as wisps of ice and snow rose out of his palm.

“Ok, so; a ghosts age depends on how long they’ve been dead for and how developed their core is. So someone who dies at a hundred will suddenly become a newborn ghost. Ghosts get more powerful with time, and depending on how violently they died they might become newborn ghosts who are already really powerful. I was one of those instances.”

Phantom opened another circle and pulled out another book. “Every new ghost will usually search for or be found by an older ghost who’ll become their caretaker or ‘parent’. These ghosts are supposed to teach the new ghosts about their powers, what type of ghost they are, how their religious beliefs will affect their afterlife. I had a really, really old ghost named Clockwork.”

Phantom flipped through the pages again and showed him one. It seemed to be a medical diagram of a ghost. It was fascinating; they didn’t appear to have muscles or organs, but rather this core acted as not only their stomach and heart but their brain. In fact their whole body seemed to be one big vein, the whole thing circulating this ectoplasm throughout it.

“Finding a new ‘parent’ is really, really important. Like I said before ghosts are nothing but emotions. So when we get lonely, it’s like a major depressive episode. We start hurting ourselves and others, we do things that go against our beliefs or moral codes, we do anything to bring any sort of attention to ourselves. Is this similar to anything Jason went through after being forced back?”

“I believe so? I don’t know what he was really thinking, but he definitely did horrible things that he would never have done before.” Damian didn’t miss the wording Phantom used. Forced. Todd didn’t come back to life, he was dragged back. Ra’s wanted to come back, his Father wanted to come back, he wanted to come back. But Todd had been put to rest somehow. Todd had moved on.

“If Todd had moved on before being forced back, why would he react so violently? If he’d been at peace, why all the anger?” Phantom closed the book and pulled out another, flipping through it to another diagram, but this time it was of a core. It was cut up the way he’d seen cells be in schoolbooks. “I honestly don’t entirely know, and I would have to see Jason or take him to one of my doctor's, but I think it’s because of the Pit.”

“As I said, ectoplasm is slightly sentient. But if this Lazarus water is working the same way normal ectoplasm does but maliciously, then Jason’s entire core might be made out of this corrupt ecto. It might have connected with one of his dying feelings, anger, and blew it out of proportion.” Damian bit the inside of his cheek. Todd would not be happy to learn his new soul is made out of mold and corruption. He’d take it the completely wrong way.

“How would we fix something like this? If a core is every organ, how would we get rid of the Lazarus water his very soul is now made of?” Phantom thought again. “Maybe we could flush it? Like, get him pills or an IV of pure ectoplasm and try to push it out. I don’t really know, but I know a doctor who might.” Damian hesitated before speaking again.

“…Would the Lazarus water fight back? Is it sentient enough to do that? What if by doing this it inadvertently harms him?” Phantoms made a displeased sound. He snapped the book closed and put it back in the portal before turning to him. “I don’t know, but I can find out. The book said there’s one of theses Pits in the Batcave, is that true?” He saw where this was going.

“My father would never let you in,” he started, “But you can bring me some.” Phantom finished. “I can get you some transport-safe tubes from one of my doctors, and they can look it over and find out how it works. If we find out a way to purify it, we may be able to use that to purify all the pits.” It was optimistic, but hell, he could use some hope in his life. And if he got caught, the mask footage would be his saving grace.

“If it is for the purpose of curing Todd of his Pit madness, then I will do whatever needs to be done. Where will you get these containers?” Phantom smiled and opened another portal, this time showing what looked like a laboratory table filled with beakers and containers with a green tint. Phantom grabbed five vials with stoppers and tongs. He handed them to him, and then grabbed a rack and gave him that as well.

“Want me to open one to the Batcave?” “If you wouldn’t mind.” That’ll make it far easier to get to and from, and lessen his chances of getting caught. Phantom stood and opened a much larger white circle, and it showed the closely guarded Lazarus Pit that was deep in the cave. He quickly filled the vials and went back in the apartment. “What now?” Phantom secured the tops with ice before replying, “Now I take this to the Far Frozen. That’s where the best doctors in the Infinite Realms are, they’re a group of Yetis.”

“How long will it take you? How long will it take for them to test it?” “I don’t know,” Phantom opened a larger portal, showing a frozen tundra. There seemed to be a large cave of ice in the distance. “But I’ll be back as soon as possible. We’ll find a way to get rid of the Lazarus Pits, and purify your brother. I promise.” He said it with such certainty and confidence that for a second Damian fully believed him.

In a flash of white Phantom’s hair had turned a snow white and his eyes Lazarus–ectoplasm green. He was wearing a black suit similar to a superhero’s with white gloves and boots, and he had what looked to be a crown of northern lights. He had a white cape that’s inside showed stars, and the absolute power he radiated almost knocked Damian down. Phantom smiled at him, reassuringly and calm, then stepped into the portal. It closed without a sound, and Damian was left with his thoughts.

#damian wayne x danny fenton #damian x danny #dead serious #ghost king danny #dc x dp crossover #damian wayne #danny phantom #Aw hell yeah WORLDBUILDING BABY #No dead serious in the actual mini fic but I wanted it to be an endgame #I might continue this? But you totally can if you want!#Please continue this #I have #So many fics

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autobotmedic · 8 months

Text

This or That

indoor plants or gardens / cloud-watching or star-gazing / water or fire / paperback or hardcover / running or hiking / sleeping with socks or without socks / fruit or vegetables / hanging plants or succulents / dark wood or light wood / handwritten or typed / instagram or pinterest / braids or pigtails / dc or marvel (he has no idea) / books or movies / oceans or meadows / forests or fields / sweet or salty / ice cream or chocolate / hoodies or sweaters / piercings or tattoos / summer or winter / boots or sneakers / cars or motorcycles (he refuses to answer) / curls or straight hair / castles or cottages / sunny days or storms / reptiles or birds / disney or nickelodeon (he again has no idea) / strawberries or watermelon / essays or posters / phones or laptops or desktop / glass or stone / dark or light / photos or paintings / circuses or theaters / reading or writing / dogs or cats / poetry or novels / monsters or ghosts ("I can defend from a monster.") / thrift shops or libraries / fiction or non fiction / comedy or action / romance or horror (although he will watch either, but is not really a fan of either) / adventure or drama / historical or musicals / sci-fi or westerns (inaccurate sci-fi kills him slowly) / tea or coffee / cake or pie / cereal or oatmeal / bagels or cookies / sandwich or pizza / early bird or night owl / city or country side / foxes or wolves / hugs or kisses / shorts or long pants / monopoly or sorry / comic books or novels / showers or baths (both are good, mostly mood dependent) / chess or checkers / hip-hop or classical music

Tagged By: @anotherhumanpet Tagging: gestures openly

#[AESTHETICS] I want to watch the universe expand

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the-90s-music-colosseum · 5 months

Text

Quarterfinals, Match 2

expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)

Lauryn Hill:

"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"

"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."

"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."

"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"

Damon Albarn:

"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."

"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."

"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."

"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."

"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"

"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"

"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"

"THE MAIN BLUR"

"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."

"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."

"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."

"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."

"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."

"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."

"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."

"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."

"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"

"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."

"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."

"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"

"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."

"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"

"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."

"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"

#most attractive 90s musician #poll #polls #lauryn hill #fugees #damon albarn #blur #90s music #tournament

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jeneveuxrein · 3 months

Text

kiss and make up (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 10.1K

(posted right when the clock hits midnight in seoul, i hope everyone enjoys)

tw: brief depiction of sexual assault and actual assault

-- -- --

You watch her slip her dress on, blonde hair swept to the side as she reaches for her zipper.

“Let me,” The blanket slides down your stomach, resting on your waist as you sit behind her. You slowly bring the zipper up, kissing her softly on her shoulder as she straightens the fabric. “Do you have to go?” You murmur, lips tasting her skin, the audible sigh coming from her body.

“I do,” Rosie nods, straightening her hair to fall freely along her back. Her head turns slightly, “You know I can’t stay. He’s expecting me.”

“Are you going to have sex with him?” The question comes out harsher than you intended.

“Stop,” Rosie scoffs, shaking her head as she stands. “We haven’t done that.”

Yet, you add quietly for her in your head.

Neither of you say anything else as Rosie reaches for the ring on the nightstand, slipping it on her finger.

You’d love nothing more than to toss that offending piece of jewelry into the Han River. Hell, you’d fly over the Pacific Ocean and drop it where no one could find it.

Because if Rosie was ever going to get a ring, it was supposed to be from you.

“Are you going this weekend?” Rosie asks, placing your clothes on the bed.

You nod reluctantly, as if you had a choice about the event taking place this weekend.

It’s the annual gala for the wealthy and affluent of Seoul. Your family along with Rosie’s are attending. Her father will be saying a few words, which you’re sure that his youngest daughter’s engagement will be announced as well.

“You’re not going to leave him, are you?” It’s a rhetorical question, one you wish had a different answer.

“It’s not that simple,” Rosie rolls her eyes. You’ve known her long enough to learn her tells, and this being one that she’s tired from having the same conversation.

“It’s been a year,” You point out, reaching for your shirt. “You’re engaged now, Chaeng. It seems pretty clear that this isn’t going to continue.”

The thing with you and Rosie is that neither of you wanted to be in this position. You were born into this, this being a stupid rivalry between your fathers. You were raised to hate each other, attending the same schools, competing for the top of the class while juggling the pressures from the public eye.

Being part of Seoul’s elite made you want nothing more than to leave as soon as you finished at one of the most prestigious universities in the country. You wanted to live abroad, working for someone without having your last name be the reason you were hired.

You couldn’t, as much as you tried. You were set to inherit the family business, even though your older sister, Jisoo, was much more capable and wanted to. The multiple arguments you’ve had with your father fell on deaf ears because you were the only son and naturally, you were next in line.

Rosie, on the other hand, wasn’t set to inherit anything except for a cushion that would support her for the rest of her life while her older sister, Alice, ran the company.

It wasn’t easy for her either since her father wanted Rosie to marry someone of equal status, ultimately expanding the Park name into other industries.

When Rosie was introduced to Wonwoo, you knew that was who her father had in mind.

God forbid it be you.

As much as you two acted like you hated each other growing up, one night after a charity event three years ago was where things unfolded.

Having drunk a little more than usual at these types of events, you confided over the shared misery of your families and why everyone just couldn’t get along. Besides that, you found out how much you had in common, sharing the same interests and similar values that sparked what led into something that neither of you were prepared for.

You don’t remember who kissed who first, but that didn’t matter since you both ended up in your bed, spending the night together and realizing that this was the person you wanted to spend all your nights and mornings with.

You’re in love with Rosie, and she’s in love with you.

It’s tragic, really, at the end of the day.

Neither of your families would approve. The media would have a field day if the secret, forbidden relationship got out. You’ve imagined the headlines countlessly throughout the course of the relationship of how the media would tear you apart about two major business conglomerates’ children dating.

If not them, then your parents.

The only people that know of your affair are your siblings, Jennie, and Lisa. Though, the relationship between the latter have their own complexities that you couldn’t fathom.

“What’re you saying?” Rosie asks, crossing her arms, even though she knows exactly what you’re implying.

“We can’t do this anymore,” You say softly, tears pricking your eyes. It kills you to say that out loud, but that’s your reality. You might be meant to be together, but there’s too many things weighing on you that you don’t think you could survive. Hearing Rosie publicly engaged to Jeon Wonwoo is at the top of the list.

“What?” You’re not surprised by her reaction. You’ve had a soft spot for her and she’s always gotten her way with you, but seeing that on her finger changes things. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” You frown, avoiding her gaze. Sure, it’s a bit messed up after what you just did together, but it’s even more messed up that Rosie showed up at your apartment right after Wonwoo proposed. He’s too smitten to believe that she was going to get drinks with Lisa, celebrating the engagement.

(You absolutely knew that if you just proposed to Rosie, you’d be balls deep in her as soon as you were inside the car.)

Wonwoo’s not a bad guy, just collateral in this fucked up situation that he has remained blissfully unaware of for the past year and a half. How oblivious could he be that you’re the one Rosie fucks on the regular, screaming your name as she tells you how much she loves you, is something you didn’t understand.

You’re selfish, wanting her all to yourself, reminding her night in and night out that she was yours as much as you were hers.

When you meet Rosie’s eyes, you almost fold. She looks like she’s about to tell you off, but you watch as she slips into the cool demeanor she carries whenever she’s in a board meeting. That very same demeanor that made her into one hell of a lawyer.

“You know we can’t keep doing this,” You say honestly, “Wonwoo’s respectful, but I’m sure at some point soon, he’s going to want to make the relationship official.” In a way that you and I do, You think bitterly, biting your tongue.

“Right,” Rosie nods, a tight smile forms on her face. “So this is it? I get engaged, fuck you right after, and you’re now ending things.”

You want to argue. You want to say something like how she agreed to date-date Wonwoo while actually being in a relationship with you. It might’ve been for appearances and to please her father, but you both know that what you were doing was wrong on so many levels.

“I guess. I love you, I want to be with you, but you’re engaged. It changes everything.” She knows things will change once this engagement goes public.

Rosie doesn’t say anything else, nodding before walking out of your room, out of your apartment.

Out of your life?

You hoped not, but you’ve never had any control of your life to begin with.

“Stop moping,” Jisoo hisses, forcing a smile when another executive walks by, briefly stopping to shake both of your hands.

“I don’t want to fucking be here,” You smile, nodding politely as you greet the wife of said executive.

You’ve been quietly arguing with Jisoo since you arrived. Thankfully you didn’t share a car together because that would’ve given you a headache.

Your sister knows what happened. She pounded on your door an hour after Rosie left because allegedly the woman you’re in love with called her, in tears and distraught, telling her how you ended things. There was one missing vital piece of information that wasn’t shared—something you had to tell your sister, softening as soon as the words fell out of your mouth.

“We have, like, ten more minutes of this before you can wallow away at the bar,” Jisoo nudges you with an elbow once your aunt and Jennie approach.

You give the two women a hug, commenting on their appearance because they are Kims after all. Everyone in your family looks good, and Jennie tells you so too.

“Wow, oppa,” Jennie gives you a gummy smile, straightening your bow tie after she hugs you. “You’re actually dressed up for once.”

“Not in the mood, Jen,” You say flatly. Jennie takes a second look, and her eyes narrow.

“What happened?”

“Not the time nor place,” You wave at a bunch of people you don’t recognize. All for show, their faces blurring together as they pass. “She didn’t tell you then.”

Jennie stares at you, waiting. When you remain stoic, she rolls her eyes, walking away to most likely find the woman in question.

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” Jisoo warns quietly, elbowing you in the side a little harder.

You don’t bother engaging with your sister anymore, just saying hello and answering any questions that people ask you as they walk by. It’s mechanical for you, something you’ve spent years perfecting on how to appear to people when you honestly couldn’t care about all this. You’d give it all up if that meant you could be with Rosie.

These past few days have been absolute hell for you. You’re pretty sure your body’s going through shock. You feel it in your chest anytime your mind so briefly thinks about her. You’ve dated before Rosie and heartbreak has never felt like this.

When you see the next family approaching, you automatically smile. Jisoo notices your face light up, which she scoffs because she isn’t exactly the biggest fan of who you’re smiling at.

“Hi Nayeon,” You ignore your sister, beaming as the eldest Im stands in front of you. She smiles, that same toothy one that you’ve teased her countlessly for over the years since it makes her look like a bunny.

“Hey,” Nayeon chuckles, shaking her head as she goes in for a hug. You do her one better and wrap your arms tightly around her waist, nearly lifting her feet off the ground. She lets out her boisterous laugh, hitting you on the shoulder. “Put me down!”

You’re laughing, actually giving a genuine smile, as you do what she says. You keep your arms loose around her. Anyone passing by would think you’re together, which you do hear them commenting on how close you are.

“If either of you want to make headlines this evening, please for the love of god, stop,” Jisoo mumbles, shaking her head as she greets Nayeon’s sister.

“We’re just having fun, Sooya,” Nayeon rolls her eyes, taking a step back before sending you a wink.

“Yeah well, the night’s going to get more interesting,” Jisoo tilts her head toward the entrance. “The Parks are here.”

You don’t want to look, but you can’t help yourself. Your gaze lands on Rosie. She looks absolutely stunning, wearing a strapless white gown that hugs her body perfectly, hourglass figure and all. It reminds you of a wedding dress, and something inside you breaks when you see Wonwoo right behind her.

“Wow, Chaeyoung looks gorgeous,” Nayeon comments. Her sister nods approvingly while you don’t miss the concerned look on your sister’s face.

You excuse yourself without waiting for any of the women around you. You beeline straight for the bar, needing something to ease the tightness in your chest. Hearing the crowd murmurs of Rosie and Wonwoo don’t help either. You even catch someone mentioning the ring, causing you to pick up the pace.

Lisa intercepts you when you’re a few feet away, “Hey,” Her hand wraps around your bicep, stopping your rendezvous with a bottle of scotch.

The brave face you put on at the beginning of the night cracks and she gives you a sympathetic smile. If there’s anyone Rosie would confide in, Lisa will be at the top of the list.

“Hi Lili.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lisa asks politely, gently guiding you towards the bar, the grip on your arm strong enough to keep you from running in the opposite direction.

“Not entirely,” You shrug, but not enough to shake her arm off.

Lisa doesn’t push, which is one of the many reasons you consider her a close friend. Aside from the fact she’s secretly dating your cousin, she’s someone you trust. Even though Lisa’s a foreigner, she blends in well with this crowd, and that’s saying a lot. Everyone’s aware she’s not Korean by any means, but she’s networked enough that she has a seat at the table. The relationship she has with all of you have helped too, something she acknowledges, but it’s all her.

Once you reach the bar, you pull out the chair for Lisa. You get teased a little for acting so gentlemanly since your relationship with her has always been platonic—for obvious reasons.

“You haven’t spoken to her.”

“Of course I haven’t,” You nod when the bartender brings over your glass of whiskey. You take it one go. The usual burn doesn’t faze you as it travels through your body.

“She misses you,” Lisa says casually behind a wine glass.

You scoff. Your temper flares because while it could be true, there hasn’t been any moment since you last saw Rosie that she let you know how she felt. You’ve laid it out to her that you’d give up everything if it meant you could be together, but she was scared.

“She wants to be with you.”

“Sure she does,” You answer sarcastically. “If she did, we’d be engaged. Probably married by now.”

“Come on, don’t be like this,” Lisa shakes her head, placing her empty wine glass on the counter.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up before you could respond. You’re suddenly hyper aware of someone’s presence behind you, that you don’t need to turn around to see who it is.

“Hi,” You hear Rosie greet softly.

Lisa turns around first, standing to hug her best friend. You don’t make any moves to engage, at least not without signaling to the bartender for another drink. He’s in front of you, giving you a heavy pour before moving onto the next person. Without waiting, you take the drink in one go again, the liquid amber burning stronger than the first.

Slipping on the mask you had when you arrived, you turn to face the two women. “Chaeyoung,” You nod, acknowledging her for the first time this evening. It’s a low blow to call her by her Korean name because she’s reserved her English name just for you. “You look great,” You say with an easy smile.

There’s more you want to say, like how she’s beautiful and all that, but you don’t think that’d be appropriate given the time and place and circumstances.

“Thanks,” Rosie says quietly, the smile on her face hardly reaches her eyes. “Can we-”

“I’d love to stay and chat, but you know, duty calls,” You interrupt, scanning the room for anyone to pull you out of this conversation. Ironically, your gaze meets Nayeon across the crowd, waving you over. “My presence is needed,” You tilt your head in Nayeon’s direction. Rosie’s eyes narrow when she sees who’s exactly demanding your presence.

That’s a whole other story because you’re all aware of the crush Nayeon’s harbored for you over the years–something that peeved Rosie knowing that your mother’s approval of her if something were to happen.

But maybe it was time for you to move on.

“Have a great night, Chaeyoung,” You bow slightly before sidestepping around Lisa. “Congrats on the engagement, by the way. Wonwoo’s a lucky guy.”

You don’t bother waiting for her response, walking away before you could hear it.

Each step away feels heavier the farther you go. Every nerve in your body screams at you to turn back around.

You don’t.

You tend to sneak away in events like this. It’s a habit you developed as a teenager when high power executives and the like would talk to you about things you had no interest in.

That’s how you end up on the outdoor terrace. It’s empty aside from a couple members of the event staff taking a smoke break, but they don’t pay you any mind, too engrossed in their own conversations about the worst person they’ve interacted with so far. You know that they’ll be back to work in a few minutes.

You lean against the railing, letting the crisp cool air invade your lungs as you stare at the city skyline. It sobers you up just a bit, but you’ll admit you’re drunk—more than what your mother would deem appropriate at an event this big.

You have to thank Nayeon for your current state. She immediately knew something was off after you left Rosie and Lisa at the bar. She didn’t ask, but she offered to ditch once the speeches were over. You compromised, only wanting to stay for the foundation’s before Rosie’s father spoke. She understood without question. She didn’t prod as to why specifically before that speech.

The sound of heels coming to a halt behind you breaks you out of your thoughts. You sigh because there’s only one person that knows this habit of yours.

“What do you want?” You ask without turning around.

“Can we talk?” Rosie asks quietly that it forces you to turn around.

“Okay, go ahead,” You cross your arms, jaw clenching as you try to control the wave of emotions crashing through you as you stare at her.

“Let’s go somewhere more private, please,” She reaches for your arm, but her hand drops when she hears the quiet chatter from the staff a few feet away.

You relent, pushing yourself off the railing as she walks back inside. You have no choice but to follow her, and you’re on edge when she chooses to walk into a private bathroom.

Once the door shuts, you hold your breath, the tension between you much more obvious in an enclosed space. You feel suffocated by being this close to her when all you want to do is pull her against you.

“What do you want, Chaeng?” Your shoulders drop, the mental and emotional exhaustion catching up to you. You’re tired and just want to get as far away from this, from her, to think clearly.

“I…I don’t know,” Rosie looks away, leaning against the marbled counter as the door holds you up.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” You gesture to the space in between you. “If anyone sees us together, we’re both screwed.”

You watch her move, something brewing beneath as she keeps her eyes on you. She walks toward you, bringing her arm back. Your head tilts in question as her dress slowly slides down her body.

“Chaeng,” Your voice comes out low, hoarse as Rosie reveals what’s underneath–a white lace corset with the matching bottoms to go with. For how long you’ve been together, she knows your weaknesses, and if she had the garter belt, you would’ve taken her right there.

She planned this.

“What?” Rosie stands in front of you, keeping the smallest bit of space in between you that any movement, her body would be pressed against yours.

“You’re engaged,” A strong reminder more to you than her. Your hand twitches, but you keep it at your side, not wanting to give her the upper hand.

“I’ve told you time and time again, it’s not that simple,” Rosie leans forward, her breath ghosting over your lips. “What’re we supposed to do? Just leave everything behind?”

“Yes,” You shake your head, frustrated. It’s the same conversation you’ve been having with her since she started public dating Wonwoo and it’s still not sinking in that you’d make it work. “It’s not like we don’t have connections outside of our family to support ourselves.”

“You think too much,” Rosie rests her weight against you. Your cock stirs at the contact. “I love you, you know this. Is that not enough?”

“Chaeng,” You gulp when her hand slips in between your bodies, palming your cock over your slacks. You’re naturally conditioned to react to whatever Rosie does to you, big or small. She could tie her hair in a ponytail and you’d immediately get hard at the sight. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what?” Rosie drops to her knees, her eyes demanding your attention.

You grit your teeth as she undoes your belt. Her hands deftly work to unbutton your pants, tugging them down as she pulls your cock out. “What’re you doing?” You groan, head falling back against the door, the sensation of her soft hands wrapping around your girth.

“Are you complaining?” Her tongue sticks out, licking the tip before she kisses the same spot. Her hands were doing wonders on you as all the blood in your body rushed south.

“You know I’m not,” You moan as she takes you fully into her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks. You glance down, which is a mistake, to a filthy sight of your length halfway in her mouth.

“Then shut up,” Rosie takes a breath, pulling back slightly before repeating the motion. Her hands weren’t idle, stroking at a pace that spread her saliva along what wasn’t in her mouth.

You obediently listen, biting your lip to cover your moans as she goes lower with each movement.

You don’t know what came over her.

That’s a small lie. You could assume what spurred this. Besides your feeble attempt at ending things a few nights prior, Rosie seeing you interact–flirt–with Nayeon would be at the top of the list. It’s not like she would outright admit that she gets jealous because she’ll swear up and down she doesn’t, but you’ve been with her long enough to know how possessive she gets when it comes to you.

Your hand finds her hair, gently rubbing her scalp as she continues her ministrations. The moment you tighten your grip to increase her pace, she stops all movement. She lets off your cock with a resounding pop before standing up.

“We have to be quick,” Rosie mutters, standing to turn, and walks to the counter before stepping out of her thong. Your eyes never leave her form, watching her expression darken in the mirror. She bends slightly, shaking her ass in front of you.

You’re a simple guy. Naturally when a woman as gorgeous as Rosie offers herself up to you, you can’t exactly say no. You’ll deal with any ramifications later, but right now the only thought coursing through your body is to fuck her, and fuck her hard.

“We’re not supposed to be doing this,” You say, even though your hands grab her waist to steady you both. Her bare bottom presses against your very erect cock, the length in between her cheeks. You see how much precum leaks out of the tip as she tries to get you inside, missing completely.

“You’re clearly not stopping. We don’t have much time,” Rosie moans softly as your length rubs against her clit.

You shake your head, meeting her gaze in the mirror, a fiery look set in her eyes. You feel something weighing on your shoulders because you said you were done.

“Just fuck me,” Rosie demands and one of your hands drop, gripping your cock.

You tease a little, rubbing the head against her opening. She’s absolutely drenched that you slide right in.

Both of you moan, her eyes rolling back at being filled. You clench your jaw as she takes you in, the inner muscles tightening at the sudden intrusion. Once her bottom presses against your pelvis, you take a breath, needing it so you wouldn’t cum right away.

Based on how her pussy keeps contracting, it won’t take you very long.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Rosie hisses, and you pull your hips back before thrusting again. “I need your cock now.”

You set a quick pace, watching the sight of your cock disappearing in and out of Rosie’s body. You stifle your moans by resting your chin on her shoulder, biting down as she lets out a gasp with every movement. You realize she’s getting louder, the pitch getting higher. You did not need anyone walking in, especially since you didn’t lock the door.

Your free hand snakes around to cover her mouth, but Rosie surprises you when she pulls your hand to her throat, your fingers encircling her neck.

Rosie nods, giving you the green light, as your fingers gently squeeze. As soon as you do, her pussy tightens more and she pushes her hips into yours, meeting every thrust as the skin slaps. You knew her body well enough that she was close, especially the right angle to hit her sweet spot as she rolls down and along your length.

“I’m not going to last,” You whimper, panting against her ear.

“Inside,” Rosie gasps out, back arching as you lose your rhythm. Her orgasm triggers yours, causing you to thrust wildly, pounding, stretching, and the grip on her neck tightening. Her hand clamps on your forearm, loosening the hold as you paint her insides white.

You lose focus for a second, mind going blank as Rosie’s pussy rhythmically squeezes your cock, milking you for everything you have.

You didn’t know how long it had been. It could’ve been five minutes or five hours, but your cock softens as you slip out. You kiss the back of her head, as both of you catch your breath.

You don’t get the chance to see your cum flow out of her because her back straightens. Rosie turns, her chest against yours, arms resting loosely on your shoulder. Her fingers play with the hair on your neck while she stares up at you. She kisses you softly on the lips, smiling, before leaning against the counter. She keeps you close, spreading her legs that you slot perfectly in between as she gently pecks your cheeks and jaw.

It feels different to be with her like this.

You know what you’re doing is wrong on so many levels, but she’s your greatest weakness that you couldn’t resist her even if you tried.

“We should go back to the party,” Rosie mumbles, nipping at your bottom lip before letting out a sigh.

“Sure, whatever you want,” You honestly wanted to go back to your apartment and just cuddle, but you couldn’t exactly leave without drawing attention or questioning from your parents.

“Seriously, we should go,” Rosie makes no move to leave. Instead you feel her tongue in your mouth.

“Okay,” You nod against her mouth, which is also doing wonders, tempting you to go for another round.

Rosie pulls back, kissing you sweetly one last time. Her hand taps your shoulder, and you automatically step away, instantly missing her because you don’t know when, or if, this is going to happen again.

It’s a familiar sight as Rosie picks up her clothes from the floor. She fixes her hair, straightening the strands as best she could. You pulled your pants up, tucking your shirt in while she washed her hands.

“You should probably wait a few minutes after I leave,” Rosie says softly, wiping her hands before bringing her gaze to you in the reflection.

You agree, nodding, as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

No other words are said as you watch Rosie open the door, poking her head in the hallway as she checks if the coast is clear. Before walking out, she says, “I love you.”

One moment you’re chuckling at something Lisa says as she and Nayeon follow behind you. Nayeon invited Lisa on the way out as the speeches were commencing, which based on how it was looking with Jennie for the evening, Lisa made the decision to leave as well. She said she’d tell Jennie to meet after.

The next moment you hear someone in distress around the corner. Your pace slows when the women bump into you.

It takes you a split second before you realize that the person in distress is Rosie.

Wonwoo has Rosie pressed up against the wall, her leg straining against his as you notice his hand squirming to get in between her legs.

“Oh no, I’ll get security—Wait!” Nayeon gasps quietly behind you, but you hardly hear it because in the next moment, your feet move on their own accord and you swing your fist at Wonwoo, knuckles hitting square in the jaw and knocking his balance for him to get off of Rosie.

You think you hear Rosie scream, but you tune everything out because you’re pummeling him into the ground. You don’t care if you’re making a scene. There was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever let something like this slide with any woman, but the fact that it’s Rosie, the woman you’re in love with, all bets are off.

It isn’t until a few moments later, someone grabs you by your blazer, tearing you off Wonwoo, when everything equalizes. You hear Rosie crying behind you with Lisa trying her best to console her. Your hands ache as you open your fists, a searing pain along your knuckles. The grip on your blazer slackens before you realize it was Rosie’s father—Mr. Park himself—that pulled you off.

“What the fuck is happening here?” His voice comes out stern.

You notice the security guards tending to Wonwoo, whose face is covered by his hands, blood smeared all over his skin.

You’re going to be in deep shit from your parents, but you didn’t give a fuck. You would’ve killed him if no one stopped you.

“Mr. Park,” Nayeon interjects and you see a police officer next to her. Said police officer is her uncle—the police chief of Seoul. “We saw Wonwoo forcing himself on Chaeyoung. I went to grab security.”

A multitude of emotions cross Mr. Park’s face and you’ve never seen him angry before, but this would probably be the first time. It’s terrifying.

He doesn’t respond to what Nayeon says, walking over to where Wonwoo is. The Jeon heir looks up as Mr. Park says something to him none of you can hear when his eyes widen, desperately shaking his head, as he loudly apologizes.

“Oppa, let’s get you cleaned up,” Nayeon suggests, a loose hand wraps around your forearm.

You nod numbly, avoiding Rosie’s eyes as you walk by. Lisa’s still comforting her when Jennie and Jisoo rush over.

“Why are your hands covered in blood?!” Jennie freaks out, hand covering her mouth.

“Later, Jennie,” Nayeon pulls you away as a crowd starts to form, hiding you as best she could before anyone notices.

Nayeon leads you out of the building, forcing you to sit on a bench as she makes a phone call. She lets you know she’s calling her driver to take you home, but it doesn’t process as your blood’s still boiling over what you witnessed.

You have half the mind to go back inside and continue with your fists, but when you go to stand, Nayeon’s pushing you down. “No,” Nayeon says firmly, “Sit your ass down. You’re not going back in there.”

“But-” You try to speak for the first time since.

“Absolutely not.” Nayeon glares. “My uncle will take care of it. Leave the rest to them.”

“Fine,” You pout, rolling your eyes.

Nayeon keeps her gaze on you as she speaks with her driver. She ends the call, “Habin will be here in about ten minutes.” She sits next to you, crossing her legs as she stares at you curiously.

After a few seconds too long of feeling uncomfortable, you can’t take it anymore, grunting out, “Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Nayeon says, shrugging, but you can sense the curiosity getting to her.

“You’re staring.”

“Would you believe me if I told you you're hot?” There’s a teasing tone in her voice that has you rolling your eyes.

“No.”

“Well you are,” Nayeon chuckles, “But that’s not why I’m staring.”

“Stop beating around the bush, ask what you want.”

“How long have you and Chaeyoung been seeing each other?”

The question catches you off guard. Of all people, Nayeon was the last one you expected to pick up on your relationship. Jennie told you that Nayeon was sharp, having a good intuition about things, and you should’ve believed her.

You go straight into denial, “What? Rosie and me? That’s absurd.”

Nayeon clicks her tongue, a satisfied humming sound leaves her throat, “Rosie?”

Shit.

None of Seoul’s elite refers to Rosie as ‘Rosie.’ In business meetings with foreign companies, yes, but in a casual conversation like this, no.

You sigh dejectedly. There’s no point in denying it. Nayeon wouldn’t believe you either way.

“A little over three years,” You confess, head dropping into your hands.

“Assuming her parents didn’t know their youngest was already in a relationship before Wonwoo?” Nayeon asks, hitting it right on the money.

“They did not,” You confirm, nodding in your palms.

“Wouldn’t approve, eh?” She’s right again as you grunt, taking that as an affirmative. “Well, I hope things work out in the end. If this doesn’t prove to Mr. Park you care about his daughter, nearly killing someone, then he’s an idiot.”

You actually smile.

-- --

It’s Monday and you’re not in your office.

Your assistant, Mina, texted you early this morning that you were to report to the Park’s building for a meeting with the CEO—Rosie’s father. You tried to get out of it, calling her as soon as you read it, but she couldn’t do anything. Your father specifically, borderline demanded, requested that your morning be cleared for this.

You hadn’t spoken to your parents since the gala. They blew up your phone as soon as they realized you left and after finding out what happened, thanks to Jisoo tipping you off about the flurry of messages and calls coming your way. You turned your phone off the following day, taking a much needed break from everyone. You didn’t hear from Rosie, which you were glad because you couldn’t face her. You were ashamed of getting violent in front of her. She didn’t need to see that side of you, but you couldn’t help it because it was her that was in danger.

You don’t regret it one bit though. You’d do it again without hesitation.

So here you are, waiting awkwardly in the seat as Mr. Park’s secretary types away at the screen.

When you arrived, she didn’t say anything to you except to have a seat and Mr. Park will be with you shortly.

You have no idea if you’re in trouble. The police didn’t show up at your place the day after, so you could safely assume no one was pressing charges. You do want to know what he said to Wonwoo that had him begging for forgiveness.

You haven’t seen your parents either. You’re under the assumption at least one of them would be here, but Mina herself didn’t know when you asked.

The office door opens and when you look who it is, it’s your father, motioning you to come in.

You bow when you stand, walking inside the office to Mr. Park leaning against his desk. He gives you a gentle smile when he sees you.

You automatically notice Rosie sitting off to the side on one of the couches near the window. She averts her gaze when she meets yours, something deflating inside of you.

“Please,” The Park patriarch gestures to the seat in front of him. “Sit.” It’s not a demand, but there’s no question you won’t do what he says.

Your father takes the seat next to yours, clearing his throat, “Chaeyoung told us some things this morning.”

You brace yourself, not sure which direction this conversation was going to go. You and Rosie never discussed what you would tell your parents, so she could have literally said anything.

When you don’t respond, your father continues, “It’s been brought to our attention that you’ve been actually dating for the past three years. Is that right?”

You nod, waiting for the pin to drop.

It never does because Mr. Park says, “Thank you for protecting my daughter.”

Uh?

You laugh awkwardly, hand reaching to scratch the back of your neck, “Yes, of course, sir.”

“No, you don’t understand. My daughter was engaged to him, and he’s disgusting,” You’ve never heard such contempt from someone. “If I actually announced their engagement while he tried something like that, it would look bad and my daughter would be stuck with a monster.”

“What he’s saying,” Your father can tell you’re confused, “Is that if you and Chaeyoung decide to be together, we approve. Your mother’s very proud of you for being quick to stop something bad from happening, though a little scared what would’ve happened if no one intervened, but regardless, it’s okay.”

Your shoulders feel so light after hearing those words come out of his mouth. You nod in understanding, doing your best to keep your composure.

“We’ll let you be. We have lunch to go over some things,” Your father says, a gentle hand squeezes your shoulder.

Mr. Park’s hand’s in your face, forcing you to shake it as you stand up, bowing graciously as they walk out of the room, leaving you alone with Rosie, who still hasn’t looked you in the eye since you walked in.

Once the door shuts, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Rosie,” You say softly, but she still doesn’t look up. She keeps her eyes focused on the floor. You roll your eyes, walking to stand in front of her, kneeling to be in her line of sight. “Chaeng.”

“I’m sorry,” Rosie’s lips quiver, tears visibly forming in her eyes. “I should’ve called you yesterday, but my mother and Alice took me out of the city. I was so shaken up.”

“Hey, hey,” You reach for her hands, kissing them softly to soothe her worries. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re okay right?” She nods solemnly. “Then don’t worry.”

“I should explain-” Your index finger presses against her lips.

“No need,” You brush off casually. You didn’t need to hear it. There’s a high chance you’d just get riled up having to hear about it.

“I was breaking up with him,” Rosie mumbles against your finger. “I started to walk away so I could tell my father when he, he-” Her voice cracks.

You move swiftly, wrapping your arms around her as you pull her into an embrace, gently soothing her arm as you kiss the top of her head, “Baby it’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here.”

“I love you,” Rosie cries into your chest, burying her face into you as her body shakes against yours. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Words aren’t needed. You hug Rosie tighter, silently promising to never let her go. You can’t change what happened, but you can control what happens next.

“I love you,” You whisper against her temple, kissing softly as she breaks down in your arms even more. “Is it a bad time to ask you out?”

Rosie shakes her head, giggling through the tears, “Like on an actual date?” She lifts her head, a watery smile painted on her face.

You nod, lips curling up as you wipe the tears away.

“Yes.”

-- --

You hang your arm loosely around Rosie’s shoulder, waiting for your driver to pick you up to take you home. She laughs at something Jennie says, but you’re hardly paying attention to their conversation.

Your mind is preoccupied on other things.

It’s Rosie’s birthday and Lisa rented out a club in Hongdae to celebrate.

It’s been a few months since that night. Rosie and you have had to learn how to navigate your relationship in the public eye. Aside from many gossip columns speculating about the sudden romance, there have been numerous business analysts forecasting a merger between the families.

Which your father has told you would happen if you were to propose to Rosie in the future.

Something that you want to do now, even though Rosie thinks it’s best to wait a year for the sake of appearances.

“Oppa,” Jennie whines as Lisa holds her up, the effects of alcohol hitting her and the woman next to you. “Let’s go to one more place! I’m hungry.”

“Go to McDonald’s,” You roll your eyes, irritated with your cousin.

You want to spend some time with Rosie, alone, because of the little stunts she’s been pulling throughout the night.

She’s been relentlessly teasing you, drifting her hand on your thigh, even brazenly palming you over your jeans underneath the table while the cake was brought out.

You did your best to keep a straight face through it all, but it was hard when she asked you to dance with her friends. You usually shied away from any public displays of affection besides holding hands, but you couldn’t resist her.

Especially with the way she was dancing on you.

“Baby,” Rosie pouts, looking up at you. “Can we go with them?”

“Chaeng,” Your jaw clenches, sending her a pointed look.

“Oi,” Lisa laughs. You see her shaking her head in your periphery.

“Please,” Rosie ignores her friend. She even makes her lip quiver, that you have no choice but to say fine. She claps her hands excitedly before giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll make it up to you,” She murmurs against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“It’s your birthday,” You clear your throat. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” Rosie leans back, raising an eyebrow.

You nod hesitantly. There’s a mirthful gleam in her eyes that whatever you had in mind, she has something else.

Rosie’s lips move slowly against yours, tongue dipping in and around your mouth that has every nerve firing. Your hands tighten on her hips, guiding her movements, even though you’ve been powerless since you arrived back at your place.

There’s too many things going on at once that have you blanking out. The only thing you can remotely focus on is the sensation of her slick over your cock.

It’s been torture watching, feeling, Rosie grind herself on you without letting you inside. You’re not sure what her end game is, but you’re dying for something other than this. It’s hot, no shit, but you’ve been on edge the whole night that you’re almost ninety-nine percent sure the moment her walls touch your length, you’ll bust.

“God,” Rosie moans against you, body shaking, and it’s orgasm number two for her without any relief for you.

“Baby, please,” You whine, hands gripping her waist as she starts moving again. You’re at the point of begging.

Rosie’s hands are on your chest, pushing herself up. You make the mistake of glancing down and your cock’s nestled in between her lips, covered in a light sheen from her orgasms, and there’s precum leaking from your tip.

“What’s wrong?” The teasing tone in her voice as you watch her swirl her hips in a circle has you hypnotized. Your cock brushes against her clit and you swear you feel her pulse.

“Why are you being a fucking tease?” You groan, head thrown back as she continues to rub herself along your length.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rosie murmurs, placing her hands on your abdomen.

After a few more minutes, your tip brushes against her opening. She lets out a surprised moan at the unexpected intrusion. Much to your dismay, she doesn’t take you in.

“Chaeng,” You inhale sharply. “Seriously, come on.”

Rosie hums, clicking her tongue as if an idea just came to her.

“What if I got pregnant?”

What?

“Like, can you imagine? My father would probably kill you,” Rosie says casually when you don’t respond, too stunned by her question. “You’re practically throbbing down there.”

It’s not like it hasn’t crossed your mind. You’re definitely going to propose to Rosie when she thinks it’s the right time. You’ve talked about having kids, something you couldn’t care much for, but she’s thrown around the idea of it. If you wanted kids, you’d want her to be the mother.

Though, the process of having kids is what gets you the most.

Something Rosie knows absolutely gets you wild, nearly feral at the thought of filling her m as much as possible.

“Chaeng,” Your voice is low, hands stopping her movements. “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck a baby in you?”

“I mean,” Rosie shrugs, casting her hair behind her back, “Wouldn’t that solve the problem?”

“What fucking problem?” Your patience’s running thin as your hips involuntarily roll up.

“You know, the one where girls think you’re still single, even though all of Seoul should know you’re taken,” Rosie rolls her eyes, and her attitude is pissing you off.

Your mind replays every situation, every interaction you had tonight. Mostly everyone that was there was your friend. There were a few people you knew of, but didn’t engage with them as much since they were more Rosie’s friends than yours.

Nothing stands out, except for one.

A light bulb goes off in your head because Rosie doesn’t get jealous, per say.

Possessive is a better word to describe it.

While Rosie was off taking shots with her friends, you were idly sitting at the table, waiting for Jungkook and Minwoo when a girl you didn’t know walked up to you. You weren’t sure if she was Rosie’s friend, but when she introduced herself as Chaewon, you knew what she wanted and you were her target for the night.

You generally don’t entertain women when they come up to you, but Chaewon had disarmed you easily, charming you with a coy smile and flirty glances that you completely missed the daggers Rosie was sending her and you across the room.

The moment immediately passed as soon as Rosie plopped herself on your lap, crossing her legs in between yours, before kissing you heatedly that by the time she took her lips off you, Chaewon disappeared.

It paints a clearer picture why Rosie’s suddenly dangling pregnancy in your face. It’s more for her to claim you than anything.

“Is that what you want?” You sit up, wrapping your arms around her body. Kissing her softly before murmuring, “You want people to know who I belong to?”

“I’m sure people know,” Rosie whispers seductively, “But it wouldn’t hurt for them to know that I’m the one that you can’t keep your hands off.”

“Baby, I’m sure they know,” You smile against her lips.

“Well,” Rosie huffs, too distracted by the way you move your mouth over hers, tongue finding its way in between her lips. “I want them to know for sure.”

“Then let me fuck you baby,” Your hips roll up, brushing against her clit as she moans. She shakes her head, gently pushing you to lay back.

Rosie’s hand slips between your bodies, a light grip encircling your cock as she aims the tip to her opening. She gently slaps the head, catching her clit in the process, before settling at her entrance.

“Rosie,” You grit out, eyes locked on your cock in between her folds.

“Watch me,” Rosie positions herself, careful not to slide you in just yet, placing her hands to balance on your cock.

It’s something you’ll never tire of, no matter how many times you and Rosie have sex—and it’s a lot.

Her hips swivel, adjusting, as she slowly drops down, your cock disappearing in her body. You’re engulfed by her heat, her walls stretch to accommodate your size, and you see stars as your eyes roll back.

“Baby,” Rosie’s voice cracks, “Eyes on me.”

Your gaze falls back to your cock gone, completely sheathed by her that she uses her inner muscles to squeeze. You can’t help but thrust into her, jolting her body as her breasts bounce.

“Nope,” Rosie clicks her tongue, shaking her head in disappointment. “Hands here,” She places them in the divot where her legs meet her hips, hands over yours as she slowly rocks her hips.

“God,” She chokes out, “We fuck a lot, yet it’s always so much.”

You don’t have any words because you’re too blissed out by her movements. Any coherent thoughts are out the window because she’s right.

It is so much.

You’re lost in her that your eyes roll back once she moves up carefully, methodically, before dropping her hips over you, repeating the motion that has you gripping her thighs roughly.

“Imagine,” Rosie says lowly, looking at you through hooded eyes, “If you did get me pregnant. Just me carrying your child because you couldn’t help yourself. The media would be all over us.”

Her words trigger a memory of the first time you and Rosie had sex, deciding together to go without a condom because she was safe and she trusted you enough. You don’t think you’ve ever fucked anyone like you fucked her.

“Baby,” You can’t control the moan that falls from your lip after a hard drop. “Don’t.”

“What?” She stops her movement, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t want to? You’re the only guy I’ve ever let cum inside me.”

“Jesus fuck, Chaeng,” Your hands drop from her hips. “You’re a fucking—”

“Tease? Slut? Whore?” Rosie swivels her hips in a figure eight, cutting you off. “It doesn’t matter what anyone calls me. I’m yours.”

You have no control over your body as your hips move on its own accord, meeting every one of her gyrations with precision.

“Come on,” Rosie goads, bending forward to kiss you briefly on the lips, “You don’t want everyone to know that?”

Of course you do. People do know that Rosie’s yours, but the love bites and the like don’t compare to her being pregnant—the ultimate claim.

In a quick move, keeping your cock in between her legs, you reverse positions, and Rosie’s on her back.

“God yes,” Nails digging into your shoulders as you slide your length from her warmth before snapping forward.

You buck into Rosie, thrusting wildly as the need to breed her takes the forefront of your mind. The thought of her belly swollen has you nearly going feral.

You try to lean back, wanting to see your cock spearing through her walls, but her grip takes her with you. You watch as she rolls her body in waves, mesmerizing you as your cock moves in and out. Your hand splays over her stomach, and you could be imagining it, but you swear you feel your cock hitting her front walls.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Rosie taunts, eyes barely open with a dopey smile on her face.

You grunt, too engrossed as she leans back, one hand on your shoulder as the other rests over your hand. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, bouncing rapidly on your cock like she’s in heat. Your thumb sneaks down, slipping underneath her hood to rub her clit. Her eyes widen before a sudden pressure grips your length.

Rosie screams as her orgasm rips through her body, back arching as she pushes her chest forward, before convulsing, spasming all over you before you feel your cock getting forced out. A stream of clear liquid expels from her, drenching your crotch and thighs. You groan at her squirting because it’s happened before, but holy shit this feels more intense, more primal as you watch her eyes roll back at the pleasure consuming her body.

She lets go, body falling limp on the bed as you stare at the woman you love in complete awe. Her pussy’s soaked, hole pulsing as she swings her leg over you, rolling onto her stomach.

Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, but you’re surprisingly still hard, that you can’t wait. You move her legs with ease, straightening one and slightly bending the other before settling between her legs.

“You didn’t cum?” Rosie asks, surprised, voice shaking as you aim your cock at her opening again.

“No,” You’re able to answer before sinking in, engulfed by her heat once more.

It won’t take you very long because you’re rutting into her like your life depending on it. Hips rolling after every thrust has your stomach tightening from your impending orgasm.

“You fuck me so well,” She moans uncontrollably, sobbing into the pillow as she continues to babble nonsense, hands balling into the bedsheets.

You’re hardly paying attention to what she’s saying as you watch her ass ripple with every thrust. Your hands grip her cheeks, spreading them wide to her puckered hole.

“Would you let me fuck your ass?” You ask, absentmindedly massaging the muscles. She doesn’t need to answer because her body does for her, her walls tightening at the question. “That’s a yes,” Chuckling as you save that for a later time.

Rosie mumbles something into the pillow that has you leaning forward, pressing your cheek against hers.

“What was that?” Hips never ceasing as they continue their onslaught, slamming in and out.

“Daddy please. Cum inside me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried.

The word had never been used before, but it sparked something dark in you. Your hips stutter, breaking your rhythm, after one, two, three thrusts you explode inside of her, painting her inner walls that trigger another orgasm from the woman wrapped around your cock.

“God—shit, fuck,” You lazily thrust inside her one more time before groaning against her hair.

Your cock twitches as her velvet walls keep contracting, draining you for all that you have, making sure you don’t leave her empty.

You move her hair to the side, exposing her neck and back, placing soft, tender kisses—a stark contrast to what you were just doing to her—all over her skin. You don’t want to pull out, too comfortable with her snug warm walls, and you’re almost certain she wouldn’t care if you stayed inside her, too cock drunk to even notice.

Rosie lets out a pathetic whine as you regretfully pull out. Your cock’s covered in your shared fluids as her you take a good look at the mess you made. You notice a dribble of cum ooze out of her lower lips, and just to fuck with her more since you’re a little shit, you use your finger to push it back in.

“Hey,” Rosie moans softly as you deftly massage her walls, spreading the load. “Too much.”

You nod, removing your finger, but not without brushing over her clit. She weakly slaps you away as you chuckle, dropping your weight next to her. She immediately turns to face you, pulling you into her and throwing a leg lazily over yours.

You bask in the moment, letting the endorphins release as you listen to Rosie sigh contentedly.

“You’re not serious about getting pregnant, right?” You ask, slightly nervous as the post-orgasm clarity hits.

Rosie giggles, shaking her head as she looks at you, “You really think I’d go off birth control without talking to you?”

Smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. It just caught me off guard.”

“Sorry, just felt extra attentive for you tonight since it was my birthday,” Rosie kisses your jaw.

“Do you mean jealous?” You quip, which earns you a light slap on the chest.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I don’t get jealous,” Rosie pouts all cutely that you chuckle.

“I can’t help that I’m such a hot commodity,” Another slap.

“Yeah well you’ve been off the market for almost four years, you think I’m going to really let some girl get to me?”

“I’ve had to go on dates with people my parents set me up with. How do you know I didn’t sleep with them?” You tease, earning a pinch this time.

“Because you literally came over after every single one,” Rosie rolls her eyes. “I’d remind you that there wouldn’t be anyone else, don’t you remember?”

The few dates your parents forced you to go on resulted in some of the hottest sex you’ve had with Rosie. You remember vividly the things she did so you never had to think twice about being with another woman.

It’s making you hard again at the memory.

“I feel you twitching,” Rosie smirks, shaking her head. “Let’s sleep first, okay?”

“Fine,” You pout. Though, you have one more question. “One last thing?”

Rosie hums, snuggling into the crook of your neck.

“Marry me?”

Rosie pulls back, gaze meeting yours, searching your face for an answer she only knows. “You’re serious this time.”

“I’m serious every time I ask,” You scoff.

“No, but this is different,” Rosie sits up. “Do you have a ring?”

“In my sock drawer, all the way in the back,” You answer simply.

You watch her slide out of bed, walking to the dresser. She slips on one of your old university shirts from when you studied abroad before digging through the mentioned drawer. She pulls the small velvet box out before joining you on the bed.

“How long have you had this?” She asks softly, staring at the box.

“Honestly?” Rosie nods. “Two years. Lisa’s the only one that knows. Jennie might, but if she does, she’s never said anything.”

“You were that sure about us?” Her voice trembles as she looks at you.

“Yeah.” You didn’t know what was going to happen back then, but all you did know was that you wanted to be with Rosie. You would’ve given everything up right then and there if your parents didn’t approve.

You still would.

“You’re a big softie, you know that?” Rosie smiles.

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anyone. I have an image to uphold.”

The small box is placed in your hands, and Rosie gives you an encouraging smile.

“You sure? Didn’t you want to wait a year?”

Rosie shrugs, “It was advised by Alice, mainly because it was already a big deal that two rivaling companies’ kids were dating that she suggested waiting was the best for the news outlets to cool down. But at this rate, I don’t think I could wait.”

You open the box, the diamond shining brightly in the low lit room.

It’s a fond memory of how you picked this ring, mainly because of the woman you took with you. She dragged you to five different places, even suggesting flying to Paris since she had connections there. You argued that leaving to Europe would raise suspicion to Rosie. Lisa pointed out some ostentatious design with diamonds around the band would be the best, which the jeweler agreed—most likely wanting to get a bigger commission. You shook your head, opting for a simple solitaire, a three-carat diamond that still had a hefty price tag.

You take a deep breath, smiling at the woman in your bed, unshed tears in her eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes,” Rosie cries, throwing her arms around you as she pulls you into a heated kiss.

You drop the box, uncaring about where it goes. Your hands find themselves on her hips, lifting your fiancée onto your lap. Neither of you are clothed from the waist down, and you’re surprised with how wet she is.

“Already?” You murmur against her lips.

“Shut up,” Rosie breaks the kiss, embarrassed as she buries her face into your neck. “Can’t help it,” She sucks lightly, marking your skin.

“What about sleep?” You moan, rocking her body along your hardening cock.

“Later,” Rosie mumbles, “I’m engaged. Let me celebrate, daddy.”

You groan at the new nickname, earning a giggle.

“Who knew you had a daddy kink,” Rosie teases, kissing you on the lips again. “I probably have a praise kink.”

“Be a good girl for me then,” You say, easily slipping into character.

“It’s not hard to be,” Rosie trails her lips along your jaw, peppering kisses as she slyly slides her hand in between your bodies. “Especially with a cock like this,” She sighs as she slowly strokes your stiffness.

“I love you,” You tilt your head back as she moves herself lower, eager for whatever she has in store.

“I know, I love you too, my fiancé.”

-- -- --

#blackpink smut #blackpink rose #blackpink park chaeyoung #rosie smut #park chaeyoung smut #park chaeyoung

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bruciemilf · 1 month

Text

It’s been exactly fifteen years, two days, 4 minutes, and 33.5 seconds since the Wayne murder. Bruce can feel time crawling under his skin, like filth under fingernail, like it’s a breathing, screaming thing.

It’s an endless, infinite supply. And yet, he feels like he’s running out of it.

The details are carved deep; Alfred’s cologne lingering on both his mother’s Stefano Cabbana fur coat, Snow White and fluffy, and his father’s sharp-looking leather jacket.

The gunsmoke. The pearls bleeding on the pavement.

“Your mother wore Armani, actually.”

The Waynes are known to cheat Death, but this is getting ridiculous.

“You’re not here.”

The Riddler, — Edward. His name is Edward Nashton, 29-years-old, forsenic accountant, Bruce’s former classmate at Gotham University.

He’s just a man, not a monster, — gasps, wide eyes confused, “Who are you talking to?”

Thomas watches Bruce’s, — Batman’s hands tighten around the swamp green jacket with mildly tamed amusement. Almost like Bruce is an infant again, shaking on his first steps.

“Pretty sure I am, chum. Also, you might wanna move Eddie here to a coffee table. That shit looks sturdy. YOU were made on one, I think,—“

He cringes, but does as he’s told. Edward’s coffee screeches when Batman slams him across it like loose change, “I’d rather not think about that.”

“Honey, it’s a very romantic story, and I resent Alfred for not talking to you about it. Now go grab a drill and some duct tape. Oh, don’t make that face, — His adrenaline levels are higher than a fucking drop head.”

Bruce doesn’t want to do it. Something just compels him to. Thomas scoffs but Bruce is too focused on the drill biting through bone to notice. Edward doesn’t feel any pain. He’s just under the illusion of it, which seems much crueler.

“You would’ve KNOWN that if you stayed in school. “

“Why are you here?”

“Now that,” His father’s smile is a serpentine, alluring and full thoothed and stained with Maverick cigarettes. His hair is slicked, crowned by red lensed sunglasses.

He looked for a dead man. “Is a smart guy question.”

—

He doesn’t sleep. He can’t.

“Your father was a hundred different things, “ Alfred sighs at him, stitching up his wounds in a tight, secure pattern. Thomas’. The ghost of the hour. “And I never understood any of them.”

Bruce is about to ask more, expand a stream of curiosity, when footsteps bang against the cave’s massive interior.

He knows each child by foot, by volume, by rhythm.

He’d know Jason dead or alive.

He’s about to greet him, choosing to ignore his father’s ghost flirting with an unsuspecting Alfred, when his baby bird beats him to it.

“Why the fuck is your dead mom following me?”

#girls after they watch fight club:#Thomas is supposed to be revenge and Martha is supposed to be redemption btw!!!#love that for them. smiley face #bruce wayne #dc #dc comics #text #batman #text post #thomas wayne #battinson #writing #ficlet #jason todd #batdad #batfamily

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mrwavellswaps · 1 month

Text

The Embodiment Of His Desire

“Aww what? I only get one wish? Aren’t you supposed to give me like three or something?” Klara sighed as she looked up at the magical genie before her. She’d summoned him accidentally when she stumbled across an old artefact that was stored away in her grandfather’s basement.

The genie rolled his eyes. “Yes you only get one. This isn’t a movie you know.” The genie twirled around Klara. Like most depictions of genies, his upper body was that of a fit man while his lower body was no more than a cloud of smoke that connected him to the strange artefact he came from. He had deep red skin and a twirly mustache that made him look somewhat similar to a few depictions of Lucifer. Though he didn’t look nearly as threatening thankfully.

“Okay well if I only get one wish then…” Klara thought for a moment but it didn’t take long for her to decide. “I wish that Chris Kellerton, the hot guy from my university, would fall in love with me.” She asked with hopefulness. She’d had her eyes on Chris from the moment she saw him. He was her dream man from head to toe. Perfect in every way from his body to his face, the way he spoke to the way he treated people. She wanted him so badly. And yet he didn’t seem the least bit interested in her. He was nice to her for sure but he always treated her like a friend and nothing more. Well Klara wanted more.

Unfortunately the Genie tutted and wagged his finger. “No can do. I can’t force somebody to love you. Or more accurately I won’t. I don’t like messing with people’s feelings in that way.” He explained, watching as a look of disappointment quickly overtook Klara’s face. “However. I can propose something else that may give you the result you desire. Instead of forcing him to love you, I can instead change your identity and the way you look so that you become the embodiment of Chris’ desires. You’ll have to give up your old life but I have almost no doubt Chris will fall for you afterwards. How does that sound?”

Klara had to ponder on it for a moment. Was she really willing to give up everything she knew including the way she looked for this man? It would be a massive commitment in so many ways. But soon enough she made her choice.

“Yes. Do it. Anything to have Chris be mine.” She said at last. “I wish that I was the embodiment of Chris Kellerman’s desires!” She stated boldly with a mixed look of both excitement and nervousness.

The genie smirked down at the young woman who still had no idea what she was in for. But that was for her to find out. “Well then. Your wish is granted.” His voice echoed through the basement as he snapped his fingers. Immediately Klara was wrapped up in a pillar of smokey magic as the genie returned to the artefact once more.

Klara had no idea what was happening. All she could see was a storm of red mist swirling around her like a vortex that was too thick to look through. All she could do was take a deep breath and trust in the genie as her body began to change.

The first thing she noticed was her legs and torso getting longer. She’d been quite a short woman before so maybe that was part of the reason Chris didn’t like her. Maybe he was into taller girls, she thought. Her former height of 4’11” continued to increase up and up. Every time she thought it was about to stop it simply kept going until finally she reached a staggering height of dead on 6 foot. Even taller than Chris!

Her muscles were next. She could feel her arms and legs begin to grow stronger as they gradually expanded. By this point Klara was starting to assume that maybe Chris was into muscle mommy’s or something because soon enough she looked jacked! Having started to rip apart her clothes slightly that were already being stretched to their limits after her height increase. Strong abs carved into her stomach, thick looking legs and some of the brawniest looking arms she’d ever seen on a woman. She wasn’t sure how exactly to feel about it. She never imagined getting into this kind of shape but if this is what Chris was into then…

But the changes didn’t stop.

Klara began to squirm uncomfortably as a strange indescribable sensation took over her groin. She reached down into her panties just in time for her eyes to widen at the feeling of a small nub pushing its way out of her vagina. It was tiny at first but it continued to push its small mushroom head out of her pussy, followed swiftly by a shaft that was growing thicker by the second. Her pussy began to close itself up but not before two small testicles could slip their way through as well. Klara couldn’t believe it. She had a cock and balls!? And they were still growing! A substantial bulge began to form in her panties as her new dick grew up to a very impressive 8 inches with enough girth that she could’ve put any of her former lovers to shame with it. Not to mention her new balls growing so fat that she could practically feel the mass amount of testosterone being churned inside them.

That was the turning point. With the new penis and testicles hanging between her legs, Klara’s DNA was being completely altered. More specifically the XX chromosomes inside of her were swiftly being mutated into XY chromosomes instead. Suddenly the changes being made to her form were no longer limited by her female form as Klara was about to find out.

Almost immediately her body began to lose its feminine form. Her curves disappearing in favour of further definition to the new muscle she’d gained. Everything from her waist to her butt lost its female look as they grew to a more masculine shape. Following this her hands and feet grew multiple sizes bigger, especially her feet, until they looked meaty and clumsy. Nothing like the delicate appendages she once had. However that was nowhere near as shocking as having to watch her breasts melt away. Her nipples shrinking to much more modest size as the tits she’d grown used to weighting her down quickly vanish into nothing more than a flat muscular chest.

After that her muscles began to feel strange again. They were pulsing as if they were preparing for something. But Klara didn’t have time to focus on that right now as her face started to morph. Her hair was first to recede into a short masculine cut before her features began to change dramatically. Gone was the soft and delicate face of a woman as her jaw widened, nose broadened, eyes shifted to a more masculine shape. Everything about her face morphing until it looked manly as fuck! And to top it all off, she felt a sudden itch across her jaw as a short full beard sprouted and decorated her new face perfectly while the lump in her throat enlarged to give her a much deeper, huskier voice.

Klara hardly even had time to comprehend the feeling of her new facial hair before suddenly her veins began to bulge across her entire body. That pulsing in her muscles from before heating up to an entirely new level as she began to hulk out once again! Now that her body was no longer restrained by its female form and hormones, her body packed on more muscle than she could ever have imagined!

Her arms being first and foremost as her biceps and triceps exploded to ridiculous sizes that meant even the slightest movement would cause them to bulge in some way and in turn flooding them with a level of strength she could never have dreamed of before. This was soon followed by her shoulders and back expanding rapidly and widening her physique to an even more wildly masculine shape that would no doubt make it difficult to fit through doors from now on. Naturally her chest was next as her pecs pumped up to an enormous degree, almost to where it felt like she had breasts again. Only this time they were solid slabs of pure manly muscle the size of fucking watermelons! And yet despite her now gigantic size, her body still somehow managed to hold onto the abs it’d carved earlier and allowed them to grow even larger across her stomach. By this point her shirt had been completely ripped to shreds and by the looks of things, the rest of her clothes weren’t going to last much longer either.

Of course her lower body was next and it didn’t take long for her new male ass to start plumping up some more until it was a nice thick muscle butt crafted from years of training. But last and certainly not least was her legs. And to say they hulked out would be an understatement. Klara couldn’t help letting out a long deep groan as her quads and hamstrings bulked and thickened into massive trunks leaving her with thighs that could crush a head with ease. Even her calves boomed with new muscle until they looked harder than steel.

Klara was left panting heavily after such an intense transformation. Finally the intense pulsing sensation that’d been rocketing through her body moments ago was starting to subside, finally giving her a chance to realise that her pants and underwear were completely gone. Leaving her stood completely naked with her new cock and balls swinging in this enormous muscle tank of a body that she could hardly even comprehend right now. But just then as the vortex continued to swirl around her, so did the tattered remains of her old clothes.

The remains of her shirt reformed around Klara’s bulky new body, only this time as a large black tank top instead that did well to show off her new physique. Her destroyed pants and underwear did the same as they formed around her body as large jockstrap to hold her new junk in place as well as a new pair of grey gym shorts to match her tank top. Even a black cap materialised itself on her head. Finally ending with her old shoes and socks reforming into a comfortable pair of gym socks and sneakers that actually fit her massive new feet.

Before Klara even had a chance to reorient herself, the pillar of smoke twisting around her vanished in an instant. Only now she wasn’t in her grandfather's basement anymore. Instead she was now standing in the middle of a gym! She glanced around a little to quickly discover that it was the local gym she’d been to a couple of times but she still couldn’t help but feel light headed as her brain tried desperately to play catch up.

Klara looked down at her hands. Flipping them back and forth as she inspected the sheer size of them. Her gaze then wandered up her gigantic forearms and towards the enormous biceps she now adorned. Then looking down in bewilderment to see her pecs pressing tightly against her new tank top. It didn’t seem real and yet… it was.

When she turned around to see her reflection for the first time in one of the gym’s many wall mirrors, Klara’s mouth hung open in shock. She shouldn’t have been surprised but actually seeing the image of a massive bodybuilder dude being reflected back at her in a mirror took her breath away. She had no idea how to react. Only staring on in awe for a good few moments as she drank in her reflection.

Though after a few moments she couldn’t help but flex a little out of curiosity. Starting with her arms of course. Squeezing those super sized biceps a little and watching as both her muscles and veins bulge with power. Just the sheer magnitude of her arms was overwhelming. Yet as mesmerising as her giant arms were, her attention couldn’t help shifting to her pecs. She cupped them with both hands, feeling the heft and weight of the muscle. These new muscle tits were even bigger than her regular tits and they had a completely different feel to them. She could squeeze and enjoy groping them but in an instant she could flex them and they’d become rock hard. Speaking of rock hard…

“Ughhhg… Rrghhg…” Klara grumbled and squirmed slightly as her new cock started to get excited. She didn’t know how to stop it and before long blood was pumping at a rapid rate into her new member, forcing it to thicken up to its full size. She very quickly came to realise how uncomfortable public erections were as her growing dick strained against her shorts and jockstrap. She tried her best to hide it from anyone around but it wasn’t an easy task with his well endowed she was now. And that’s when she saw him. Chris. Working out from across the gym and seemingly glancing at her.

That was it. Her cock was in high gear now as it pulsed and bucked with excitement at the sight of her crush. Some guys from around the gym had already begun to notice how strange Klara was acting and were giving her strange looks which caused her to go red with embarrassment. Luckily however she spied the doors to the changing rooms not far away. Without a moment’s hesitation she stumbled awkwardly over towards them, trying to get used to the balls between her legs as well as the pulsing erection. She almost went into the women’s changing room at first before quickly realising that wouldn’t be a good idea…

As soon as she reached the changing rooms, Klara hobbled into the bathroom with her new third leg threatening to burst out at any second. Luckily they were private single bathrooms allowing her to lock the door and breathe a sigh of relief.

Immediately she found the sink mirror and stared at herself once again in disbelief. Inspecting her new features and touching her beard. It was by all accounts completely insane! But that didn’t stop her from dropping her shorts and jockstraps moments later to finally let her giant new sick spring free. Gasping a little as it smacked against her abs ferociously. So this is what it felt like to be hard? Jesus… It felt like she had a steel pipe between her legs!

“What the fuuuuuckk…” She groaned as she waddled over to the sink before leaning on it for support. “That fucking genie… why did he do this? This isn’t what I wished for?” She growled as she continued to scan her new body in the mirror. Eyes wandering up and down the impressive male specimen she now was. Not being able to help constantly glancing at her pulsing cock. Until finally it clicked. Chris. He’d hardly looked at him before. But just a few minutes ago back in the gym… he did. Chris glanced at him. And it wasn’t a strange look like the other gyms were giving him. No, it was different. It was… lustful.

Klara hung her head as everything slid into place. “Chris is gay.” She sighed. That’s why the genie turned her into this. She had indeed become the embodiment of Chris’ desires… it just turned out that desire was a massive big dicked muscle monster of a man. “Yup. I guess that one’s on me.”

With that Klara took a step back and looked at herself again. “Fuck. Well I guess I’m a man now.” She flexed both of her arms in a double bicep pose. “And a huge one at that.” But her tone didn’t sound disappointed. Rather intrigued as she thought about the possibilities that came with all this. Or rather the advantages.

A large grin began to form across her face. “You know what? I could get used to this.” She murmured as she slipped off her tank top and admired her new upper body in all its glory. “No more periods, no more bras.” She began as she flexed her pecs again, slowly starting to figure out how pec bouncing worked. “No more being seen as a petite little woman who everyone assumes is weak and helpless half the time. No more being ignored simply because I’m a woman as well.”

Without a second though Klara reaches down and grips her cock tightly. Moaning as she does and loving how it feels. Not just the pleasure of it but the feeling of having a cock in general! It made her feel even more powerful in a strange way she just couldn’t explain. “Now I get to be a huge man with a booming voice that everyone will fucking listen to. Not to mention getting respect from other men simply for being a man myself.” She was loving it as she quickly began jerking herself off for the first time. “Oh god and all the male privilege I’ll get to have! Fuck yes!”

Klara continues to go on and on about all the advantages she’s going to have now with a body like this. Grinning wildly to herself as she continues to jerk. All of her worries about becoming a man swiftly slipping away as she realised how heavily the pros outweigh the cons. And of course just how amazing it felt. She was already getting intoxicated by the power and size of her new body and couldn’t imagine going back to being so small and weak in comparison.

“Urrghhuuuu! Fuuuuck! And having a cock is sooo much better than a pussy!” She exclaimed boldly. But she was right. Before she always had to touch herself in just the right away and activate the right spots to get off. But now all she had to do was stroke the massive piece of meat between her legs and it was instant eye rolling pleasure. It was so good in fact that she couldn’t bring herself to stop for even a moment. Only pumping even harder and faster by the second to slowly coax moan after moan out of herself. She loved everything about jerking off from the feeling of her muscles jiggling with every stroke to her new bull balls bouncing rhythmically along with it. She could practically feel the testosterone flooding her body and mind and she was already completely addicted to it. Addicted to being a man.

“Oooo-ooooohhh fuuck-OOOOOOHHHHH-” Klara wailed at last as her load began to well up. Not being able to stop herself as her ass tightened and one final roar escaped her lips before her new cock exploded for the first time. An eruption of cum spewing violently from the fat head of her dick. Klara couldn’t help but watch in wonder as she unleashed sperm for the first time. She almost couldn’t believe it but she was actually nutting! Splattering her own ball batter all over the mirror, floor and herself! It was unbelievable but she adored every second.

Moments later she was sitting bare ass on the floor trying to catch her breath with a huge smile on her face. She had to admit, though this wasn’t the result she’d had in mind when she made that wish, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t happy with the results.

After cleaning up as best she could, Klara got dressed again in her new male clothes. But before stepping out again, she looked at herself in the mirror one last time. She was a man now. Or rather he was a man now. And he certainly couldn’t keep going by his old girly name. He thought for a moment until suddenly a name sprung to mind. Ian. He didn’t know why but he liked it and he was sure Chris would too. But with that Ian gave himself a quick wink in the mirror before heading back out into the main gym.

As he did he couldn’t help noticing he now had information filling his head on how to use every machine in the gym alongside shit tons of bodybuilding knowledge. That was going to make maintaining his new body a hell of a lot easier but that wasn’t what he was focused on right now. His attention was tunnel visioning onto Chris.

Moments later Chris was in the middle of a set when Ian came straight up to him with a cocky and confident demeanour. Ian couldn’t help smirking when he saw the blush blooming on Chris’ face as the now smaller man ran his eyes across Ian’s godlike physique. Scanning every muscle in a not so subtle man. Jesus… how had Ian not figured out Chris was gay sooner. Just being in the presence of a massive hulking man had Chris melting into a puddle.

“Hey bro. Was wondering if you could spot me for a few sets.” Ian asked politely, his thick masculine tone cutting through the air in a way that made Chris shiver. This new masculine demeanour just came so naturally to Ian now. “And afterwards if you don’t have any plans I was thinking you and I go out later tonight? What do ya say?”

“S-sure! I’d love to sir… I-I mean bro…” Chris stumbled with his words. Flustered beyond belief in a way that made Ian chuckle.

“Perfect.” Ian responded, already imagining how he was going to toss Chris into bed later tonight and really break in his new body and cock by destroying that cute ass. God… being a man was going to be fucking spectacular.

#magic #wish #permanent #female to male #female to male tf #musclegrowth #unintentional #plan gone wrong #cock growth #straight to gay #male transformation #male muscle growth #male tf #bodybuilder #gone wrong #hunk #jock

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perlelune · 1 month

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Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | iv.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

“Oh, do you mind if we take a little break?” Clemensia asks almost as soon as you’ve begun working on the task she gave you. You blink, a little confused as your gaze roams across the table. There’s still so much to do. You’re not sure if the girls are just that slow but it’s clear that it will take at least a few hours to get all of it done.

But Clemensia is in charge of the ball committee. You don’t picture yourself telling her what to do or how to do it. After all, you are an outsider. A foreign element infiltrating their ecosystem. You have to play by their rules.

If they want to take a break, who are you to argue with that?

You begin to rise.

“Oh, a break, sure…”

Clemensia’s lips pinch as you try to follow them. “It’s just that…we’ve been doing this for so long, all by ourselves. I even broke a nail.” She pouts, showing you her hands. “But it needs to be finished today.” She nibbles her bottom lip and sighs, eyes pleading yours. “If no one stays behind…”

You mull it over. While you’re not thrilled over the idea of working on the decorations by yourself, you did just get here. You suppose you could hold the fort while they stretch their legs…or whatever Clemensia and her friends like to do when they hang out.

“I guess I could stay,” you concede.

Clemensia flashes you a broad grin.

“You’re so sweet,” she chimes. “Thank you. We won’t be long, promise. Ten minutes tops.”

You shrug and return to your chair. Ten minutes. That sounds reasonable. You pick up the scissors and start cutting more of the tree shapes.

“No problem.”

But one issue arises.

The promised ten minutes expand into thirty. Then an hour. Then two. At first, you don’t let your mind dissect it too hard. It’s a stupid thing to overthink, isn’t it? A silly thing to chop into pieces until your mind bleeds with doubt and insecurity. You surmise it was more of an approximation. People do that all the time, say something while meaning another. At least you believe they do. Besides, you find ways to keep yourself busy, even getting started on the sparkly globes lying on the side of the room. You figure out how to use most of the tools on your own and get wrapped in your own bubble of quietness.

Silence is a familiar companion, the one constant that never judged you, never asked for more of you. In your Silence, you get to be you. Nothing more; nothing less. So you let yourself sink in its warm, snug embrace.

Still, somewhere in the back of your mind, thoughts meander passively… What is taking them so long? You steal a glance outside the window. Orange and purple hues are already bleeding into the sky, a sign of the evening nearing its end.

You retrieve your pocket watch from inside your skirt. A frown wrinkles your brow. At a time like this, you would usually be home, curled up with Walter on your bed as you go over your notes for the week. It often takes you hours just to decipher the course transcripts.

“Wow, you did such a great job,” Clemensia whistles from behind you.

You gasp and whirl. All smiles, the girls fill your sight.

They approach the table and examine some of the decorations you put together on your own. Realization sweeps through you as the fog of your thoughts clear. It didn’t hit you before, not until you absorbed the current state of the crafts table, brimming with the results of your solitary labor. You’ve been busy. Spinning crystal balls, pine cones, silvery garlands and a heap of snowflakes meant to hang on the walls and ceiling. Clemensia admires your handiwork, seemingly impressed.

A little peeved, you point out, “I mean…had you guys even started? Most of the decorations needed to be cut, glued or assembled…”

“I have delicate hands,” Livia sighs, examining her manicured nails.

“I’m very slow, sorry,” Ivy says apologetically.

Your frown deepens. Was this whole thing a setup? You sacrificed precious time to be here and you shudder to think the entire purpose of your presence is some kind of childish prank.

Coriolanus’ words echo in your mind. He argued the girls weren’t like that and that they left the immature tricks back at the Academy. You truly want to believe that none of this is designed to embarrass you, that perhaps, again, all of this is in your head. But your aching fingers, sore from doing crafts most of the afternoon, suggestotherwise.

Unleashing a sigh, you gather your satchel and head towards the exit.

Clemensia obstructs your path, holding up her hands in apology.

“I know we should have been back earlier. I’m so sorry. We ran into the Dean and it turned into a whole thing.” She seizes your hands, remorse twisting her pretty features. “I feel so horrible. I invited you so we could do it together as friends.”

Your shoulders slump. As you soak in the look of genuine contrition on her face, doubts lurk inside you. Your confidence about being the victim of some prank wavers. Perhaps, you overreacted. Incidents happen. Besides, the chances of you joining Clemmie’s committee are slim, as you’re already swamped with assignments. A promise was made and you kept it. But this likely will be a one time thing. School dances are at the bottom of your priority list right now.

So you discard it all with a wave of your hand and a contrived smile.

“It’s okay. No apology needed. It’s not your fault.” You note how much darker it’s gotten outside. “I should go back home though. It’s already so late-”

Clemensia stops you again, her hand tightening around yours as she offers excitedly, “Wait, you should come to game night at Liv’s.”

“What?” Livia snickers. Clemensia shoots her a withering glare and the blonde clears her throat, correcting herself, “I mean…yeah, you totally should come.”

You fidget and adjust the strap of your satchel. You may have heard whispers of those game nights. Mystique surrounds them as only a few chosen people are invited to attend. You, of course, were never invited. And it isn’t hard to gather how Livia feels about you coming from her reaction. Why force your way into places where you aren’t wanted?

“I’m already behind on my revising for the day. If I don’t go over my Molecular-”

“Boring,” Ivy sings sarcastically.

“Don’t be mean, Ivy,” Clemensia scolds, elbowing her in the rib.

Clemensia tilts her head, her tone turning beseeching.

“Please…I really want to get to know you better.” She huffs out a long breath as she seems to sense your hesitation. The brunette leans closer, hands clutching your forearms. Sympathy twinkles in her onyx orbs. “You know, I used to be a lot like you. Always striving to be the best at everything I do.” A hollow giggle slips through her lips. “It’s how I got in trouble with your mother actually…I wanted to win so badly and she decided to teach me a lesson.” Sadness pinches her delicate features. “But by always striving for greatness, you miss out on life. I learnt that during the Games...”

“...Surviving isn’t living.”

She studies you before saying, “And it’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Surviving.”

Eyes on the ground, you chew on your lip. You never imagined someone like Clemensia Dovecote - the most beautiful, popular girl at the University - could feel this way…let alone relate to you.

“Clemmie…”

She hunkers a little so your eyes meet.

“Come on, I really want to make up for today.” She laughs. “Show you I’m not a bitch.”

“I don’t think you’re a bitch,” you say.

She places her palm on your cheek. “See? You’re so nice. That’s why I want us to be friends.” She bends over your ear, the words she mutters almost too quiet to be heard, “I can barely stand those two on most days, but appearances must be kept.”

Your gaze swings upward, shock pulsing through you.

She beams at you. “It’ll be an intimate gathering of just a select group, close friends. We play cards, chat, and have a few drinks. That’s it.”

Your forehead creases.

“I don’t drink.”

Squeezing your shoulders, she assures you, “Then I’ll make sure not a drop of alcohol passes your lips. Promise.”

“It’s casual, I swear. You can even leave early if you want.”

This grabs your attention, as you aren’t sure you’ll make it through the night without craving to return to the safe, familiarity of your apartment. The potential for escape makes the offer far more enticing.

Obviously, Clemensia cares about you showing up. While you don’t fully grasp why, you also never had anyone go out of their way to spend time with you. During the Academy days, everyone avoided you like the plague, either finding you odd or fearing you were as terrifying as your mother. The University doesn’t seem much different so far, groups having already formed from previous camaraderie. Bonds that were forged years ago and cemented over time while you endured in the back of the class. The forgotten one. And you always figured it is the most you can aspire for. Being ignored and left alone.

Until now.

“Really?”

Clemensia’s smile widens.

“Yes. You can stay as long as you want and leave.”

“I don’t have anything to wear to a party,” you muse, pursing your lips. Your tiny, limited wardrobe has always prioritized function over fashion. There are your Academy uniforms, a few loose, unflattering clothes you rotate between. A single formal dress more suited for a funeral than a game night. Nothing impressive because you never had anyone to impress.

You also have no sense of fashion, the trends shifting too quickly for you to keep up. So you’ve stopped trying to.

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out,” she chimes. “The girls and I always get ready at each other’s house anyway. And you’re one of the girls now.”

You peer down at you and Clemensia’s entwined hands. One of the girls. No one’s ever spoken about you that way. As if your mere presence made something better, uplifting it instead of leading it to its ruin. As if you were solid, more than a wisp of air, a waste of breath. As if you mattered. So, despite the sizzling weight of Livia’s blue eyes on you, you smile back at Clemmie and give a bashful nod.

Your eyes feast on every detail of Clemensia’s living room as you enter her home. Her parents’ apartment is every bit as large and opulent as you imagined. Every exquisite detail screams wealth. The unabashed, showy kind that stoked the embers of bitter unfairness in the Districts, leading the Capitol to where it is today. A city risen from the ashes. Your attention lingers on the expensive artwork exposed in glass cabinets. A lot of it appears to be memorabilia from before the war. You’re willing to bet the combined value of every overpriced trinket in the house could feed an entire District. Paintings of Clemmie’s illustrious ancestors hang over the damask walls, their stern stares seeming to follow you. Almost as if they were ready to leap from the eroded gilded frames and berate you for being an intruder in their family home.

Clemensia tugs you along.

“What are you dawdling for? Come on,” she urges.

You trail behind her as she takes you to her bedroom. You smile when you see it. The somber, tasteful hues are so very her. The hinges of her wardrobe whine as she opens the large, wooden doors. A vertiginous row of clothes crowd your sight. You gawk, a little amazed but also slightly terrified. Who needs this many clothes? A sour expression scrunches her features.

“I know,” she sighs, placing a hand on her hip. “This is a little embarrassing. Most of these are soo last season.”

You tilt your head at her dizzying collection of shoes, clothes, accessories…the kind a legion of girls would kill for.

“Right,” you blindly agree. Nevermind you can’t even tell the difference. You glance around. “Shouldn’t Livia and Ivy be here too?”

Her brow twitches as she sits on her massive canopy bed. She pats the spot next to her and you awkwardly plop down. The plush silk and soft mattress dip under your weight.

“We decided to meet later,” she reveals. She pauses, a heavy sigh fluttering through her painted red lips before adding, “Besides, I told them to be nicer to you and they got upset and pretended not to know what I was talking about.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

She waves her manicured hand dismissively.

“No, don’t be. This isn’t your fault.” Clemensia licks her lips, her face etched with reflection, as if she were assessing the weight of her words before releasing them. Her hand settles on your arm.

“Look, here’s the thing. Livia’s had a crush on Coriolanus since he returned and they had a sort of fling.” Your mouth drops open. This is news to you. You didn’t catch any hint of lingering longing between the two back at their lunch table. But now that you’re mulling it over, perhaps…Perhaps, Livia’s eyes kept seeking Coriolanus’, while his treaded their own path, never crossing hers. “Things were going pretty well...for a little while. But then, you came along.”

Your brows furrow. “What does this have to do with anything?”

Clemensia’s bell-like laughter resonates in the room.

“God, you’re a sweet thing…just like Snow said.” She beams at you. “Don’t worry. Liv will get over it. She’s all bark and no bite, trust me.”

Her attention travels to the dark fabric peeking from your bag.

“What’s that?” she asks, pulling out the garment.

“The only dress I have.”

She inspects it with a displeased frown.

“Were you planning on wearing this?” She shakes her head as your mouth clamps shut. “Oh, this will not do.”

She takes your hand and drags you to her wardrobe. Brow wrinkled in concentration, she rummages through a numberless heap of garments.

“I have some clothes that my cousin left,” she explains while frantically searching. After a while, victory flares in her orbs. She unhooks a sleek, crimson dress with a tight bodice and flowing sleeves from a hanger. She holds it against your body, chiming, “She’s about your size so they should fit you.”

“I can’t accept this, Clemmie.”

You attempt to push her hands away but the brunette shoves it in your arms, insisting on you at least trying it on. You press the soft fabric between your fingers. It’s more revealing and form-fitting than you’re used to. You gather it would cling to your body like a second skin…one you aren’t used to wearing. Still, you must admit that it’s a lovely dress. One that could look good even on you. Temptation claws at your resolve, digging deeper and deeper grooves, right into every insecurity you ever had. That thing other girls had that always eluded you. That little secret you were never privy to. The key to that door that never opened. The dress is the key. And you find yourself unable to resist turning the lock to find out what secrets lie beyond that mysterious door.

Beneath Clemmie’s eager stare, you remove your clothes and slip on the dress.

Smug satisfaction hovers on her lips as you peer at your reflection. Words fizzle out on your tongue. You are looking at a complete stranger.

Clemmie rests her chin on your shoulder. “See? I knew it.”

She then has you sit at her vanity to help you do your makeup. Do your makeup…The words sound alien even in the private confines of your thoughts.

As she draws a neat black line over your eyelids, she says, “It hasn’t been long since makeup’s returned to the Capitol again. It used to be near impossible to find.” When she’s done, she turns you towards the vanity mirror. “Those colors will bring out your eye shape and color.”

The air leaves your lungs in a quick rush. You lean closer to the mirror, once again in disbelief that you are truly looking at your own face.

Fingers twisting the delicate fabric of the dress, you pivot to Clemmie.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you blurt out.

Her eyes widen briefly before her expression softens.

“You remind me of me.”

Confusion surges through you. There is an ocean of glaring differences between you and Clemmie, one you couldn’t swim through if you tried.

“What?”

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this confident.”

Your brows knit, Clemmie’s statement making little sense. If confidence wore a face and had a name, it’d be Clemensia Dovecote’s.

Gripping your shoulders, she turns your focus back onto your dolled-up appearance.

“Alright. Look in the mirror, what do you see?”

You blink. You see a girl playing dress-up, pretending, but you don’t utter those words aloud. They sound lame, even in your own head.

“Nothing,” you tritely respond, dipping your head.

She lifts your chin, moving her head to disagree.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyes twinkle. “I see infinite potential. So stop selling yourself short.” Covering her mouth, she laughs. “His jaw is going to drop.”

“Whose jaw?”

She smirks at you. “You know whose jaw.”

Heat sneaks inside your face.

You fidget in the chair. It’s not like what he thinks matters, right? He is no one to you, just that boy with the unsettling blue stare who won’t leave you be for some strange reason.

So why is there a tiny shiver of excitement coursing through your veins when the thought of him seeing you like that permeates your brain?

A vigorous gust of common sense sweeps away your wayward musings.

You don’t care what he thinks. Of course you don’t.

“I-It’s not really my style,” you stammer as you get to your feet.

The sparkle in her onyx orbs doesn’t waver.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have a style yet…so how would you even know?”

“Shouldn’t we be at Livia’s already?” you ask, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.

She considers you as if you were the most endearing thing in the world. She grabs your hands. “Here’s another rule. Never be on time for anything.” A haughty smirk creeps upon her red lips. “Make them wait for you, not the other way around.” She cocks her head. “One of the things about confidence is knowing that you are the sun, and standing in your orbit is a rare privilege.” She scoffs, “People should feel lucky you even bothered showing up.”

She approaches you and touches up parts of your hair, visibly elated with the result.

“Perfect,” she trills. “Like I said…potential.”

She herself finishes getting ready. As you absently meander about her room, the doorbell chimes.

Clemmie pauses as she applies powder on her face. She sets aside her makeup tools and escorts you to the lobby, arm threaded with yours.

“Must be our chauffeur,” she states.

Your eyes round. “You have a chauffeur?”

She cloisters herself in cryptic silence, humming as she drags you along.

When the brunette swings the door open, a towering, familiar figure darkening her doorway, time hangs still for a few seconds.

Your mouth opens wide enough to catch flies.

A smug smile unfurls on his lips.

“Angel,” he greets, gaze locking with yours as he completely ignores Clemmie.

Her sharp irritated tone shatters the spell.

“You’re late, Snow.”

Coriolanus snickers.

“As if you’re ever on time.”

You trail behind Clemmie as she and Coriolanus keep bantering, his presence still swaddling you in sheer shock. When she tries to take the passenger seat, he drapes a placating hand over hers.

She rolls her eyes and begrudgingly heads to the back of the car.

He opens the car door for you. Recalling the fruitlessness of arguing with him, you climb into the seat. Still, saying you feel awkward riding in the front while the brunette is sulking in the backseat would be a massive understatement.

Few words can accurately describe how peculiar all of this is for you.

“You look surprised,” Coriolanus notes as he takes his own seat and slams the door shut. Your heart misses a beat when his hot breath caresses your earshell. “I did say I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

You look down at your lap. Breathing is laborious, the air in the vehicle coated with the lingering smell of his pricey cologne. You are literally choking on Coriolanus Snow with every breath you take.

“Will you just drive, Snow?” Clemmie snaps, crossing her arms.

“Relax. Patience is a virtue,” he says, not sparing her a glance, zeroing in on you instead. The drumming of your heart swells to an uproar in your ears when he reaches across your body. You hold still while he ties your seatbelt for you. Blue eyes rake over your form in brazen appraisal, his deep voice lowering. “And good things come to those who wait.”

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