#getting a life and support away from him and keeping away and escaping

[zealousconnoisseurdinosaur]

Pining

Yandere!Gojo likes you but never goes through with it because he thought the higher ups would come after you until, well, he beats sukuna.

Warnings: yandere, possessive, mention of reader being uncomfortable, dubious consent for getting close to reader

Ehm

Yandere!Gojo! Who is only 16 when he meets you. Jujutsu high has opened a restaurant on campus, because Yaga is tired of the kids eating crap food from wherever. Your mom runs it and she's a damn good cook. You're his age, helping serve tables. He's instantly smitten with you, unaware of how his looming frame makes you cower, how you're too scared of him to do anything.

Yandere!Gojo! Who only ever tells Suguru about his crush on you. Only ever tells him about wanting to ask you out. Suguru is supportive, tells him to go for it, and then that jackass goes on to become a wanted criminal so now he worries that Suguru could hurt you to get to him. The higher ups are worse than ever too- so he contends himself with eating at the restaurant for every meal possible. To simply watch you for the rest of his life.

Yandere!Gojo! Who intimidates Nanami into staying away from you. He's seen the signs of a crush- mostly in Nanami but some signs from you too. He ignores your part in this though- you don't know that you have better options- don't know that someone like Satoru wants to make you his. It's only natural you would start looking at men below him. But that doesn't mean he'll allow it. He can't have you, so no one else can either.

Yandere!Gojo! Who spends years pining for you. But maintains a distance because your mom is always in the restaurant. He has charmed her the fullest- unaware, of the way you try to hide from him. Well, not really unaware- but he takes your terror as shyness. He knows it's difficult for girls to be around him, especially since he makes it a point to keep his glasses off when you're near him.

He thinks you feel flustered by his beautiful eyes- you really only feel terrified by the way they always follow you

Yandere!Gojo! Who is overjoyed when your mother retires- because it means that you're taking over and it means he can be a little more open with you. He still can't ask you out, still can't lay the claim he wants too, but still. His hands can brush against yours now, he can linger around after opening hours too. You let him. He perceives it as your fondness of him, in reality you just don't know how to say no. You make him whatever he wants, happy to escape his unwavering gaze in the comfort of your kitchen. But your mother isn't here, so he follows you to the kitchen. Sits on the counter, talks about his day and funny videos he saw that day, legs kicking and back forth as you cook for him.

He vividly imagines the day you will cook for him in his cold, bare home, brightening it up. You imagine the day you can cook without worrying about those eyes following your every move.

Yandere!Gojo! Who spends years in this dynamic with you. Never making a move, never taking what he knows is his to take, what he believes he deserves to take. He placates himself with lingering touches, and late nights spent in your company. Enjoys your flushed cheeks whenever he gets too close. He thinks he'll take what he can get.

Yandere!Gojo! Who is frustrated at the higher ups for trying to kill Yuji, who comes to you late at night, watching as you chop vegetables. He isn't as talkative as he wants to be, eyes stormy. It makes you almost cut yourself and that's what snaps him out of his stupor. He gets bold with you for the first time, arms wrapped around yours, hands tangling with yours as helps you cut. His head is almost buried in the crook of your neck, but you're frozen, heart beating too fast. He can sense it, chuckles as guides you to keep cutting.

He thinks he's made a step forward with you, only to later learn that submitted your resignation that week

Yandere!Gojo! Who confronts you about why you're quitting, large frame dwarfing your smaller one as he almost corners you against the wall. You lie that you don't get paid enough, that you want a better life. He snaps out of his rage and comes to an agreement with Yaga. You get paid 10 times more than before now, you're trapped even further now.

Yandere!Gojo! Who gets sealed away and all he can think about is you. Sure, his ego is hurt and his students might be dead- but the 19 days he spends in the prison realm make him truly regret never making a move on you. He doesn't know that the 19 days he spends away from you are the most peaceful stress free you have ever gotten- despite the looming threat of Sukuna.

Yandere!Gojo! Who gets out of the prison realm, confronts Sukuna and then goes to you. He hugs you, much to your surprise. A grip you couldn't even try to get out of. He only chuckles at the sight of your wide eyes, mistakes your fear of him as you just being emotional. He kisses your forehead, cementing the train of thought you had been trying to avoid all these years.

Satoru Gojo is in love with you.

Yandere!Gojo! Who keeps some distance from while preparing to fight Sukuna. He kills the higher ups because he's done staying away from you. He goes into battle with a clear mind and clear plan. In the end, victory is his. He defeats Sukuna and gets Megumi back. And the first person he goes back to is you. You're in the kitchen, dressed the same as usual. You're startled by the sight of him, still dressed in his torn and bloodied clothes from the battle.

Yandere!Gojo! Who loops an arm around your waist and kisses you. You pull away a little, but then you catch a proper look into his eyes. Like always, they scare you. This time they resemble a wild animal that you think might tear you apart. So you swallow your reluctance, and lean in to kiss him. You don't think he would have let the country stay standing had you rejected him.

___________________________________________

A/N: perhaps I should write a part 2 hmm

[pucksandpebbles]

going down under, JH⁸⁶

Jack Hughes x Australian!reader request: Jack x Australian reader where they make fun of each others accents

People and Places collection

a/n: bruhhhh, this took me so long to gather the motivation to write, i am in such a slump right now but i am actually pretty happy with this. hope you guys feel the same.

remember to show love, it does absolutely keep me going and gets me out of bed in the morning some days. i love all of you, there's almost 300 of you, holy fuck - so thank you for all the support i receive on the daily

wc: 2k

Michigan always felt like summer to you. The hot sun beating down, the boat rides out across the lake, the parties, the memories of underage drinking and crashing out on the couch to wake up on a Sunday morning and have to trudge hungover to church with the entire extended family, sitting in the back and praying with the baptists. Your history with the Hughes family was strong, your family had had a summer house in Michigan next to the Hugheses for a long time, and when it came time for you to go to university, you decided to pursue college life in America. It meant you got to spend even more time and summers with the boys, it was perfect. This summer was no different from the usual, they had all returned from their bustling hockey careers, allowing you to skip across the road to their own lake house and lounge on the deck, being bathed by the sun all day. It was a quiet day, only the brothers and you, making you the only girl. That was fine by them though, they'd always joked that you were practically one of the family and your mum would joke on occasion that Ellen was waiting for you to marry one of her boys so you could officially be a Hughes and the beloved daughter that she’d never had. So you'd lathered yourself up in suncream and just before lunch, you'd knocked on their door, bearing homemade sandwiches and beer for the boys and then had commandeered your usual spot, just at the edge of the deck, so you could dip your hand over the edge and feel the cool lake water which sloshed below you. A calming and familiar sound which slowly sent you drifting off beneath the hot sun, and clad in a skimpy new bikini. 

The boys had gone off in the boat, so you laid there with your eyes closed, completely undisturbed. Well, almost completely. You were rudely awoken by the droplets of water being flicked your way as the boat approached - Jack at it’s helm, laughing loudly. Chuckling in that signature obnoxious Jack way as he neared where you lay, watching you wake from your heat induced slumber and scrabbling and clambered to your feet to get away from the water being splashed your way. 

You scrambled upwards, cursing as you saw the culprit of the water, yelling at Jack grumpily. Quinn and Luke were laughing in the background but you saw Quinn shove Jack in a way that you knew was a little chastising. You pointed at Jack accusatorily, shouting across to him over the roar of the boat's engine as it slowed to dock around the deck. It was always when you were surprised, and particularly angry that your natural australian accent did come out. 

"No, Jack, it's not funny!" You yelled, watching the grin on Jack's face spread.

It spread even further as he opened his own mouth, just to mimic your own voice back at you, "Naurrrr Jack!"

He giggled at his own joke, and you shook your head frustratedly, and then pointed at him again, approaching the boat with a vengeance. 

"I'm serious, I was sleeping. You can't deflect this by joking around. I'm gonna get you for this!"

Suddenly, you clambered onto the boat, watching out of the corner of your eyes as Quinn and Luke slowly slipped away. It didn't escape Jack's gaze either, he watched in horror, slipping towards the back of the boat as his two brothers made their way inside, locking the patio doors behind them with a grin.

Grinning like an idiot and giggling in a way which could only be described as menacing, you climbed onto the boat, and stalked towards Jack smiling. He shuffled back and Jack cried out at his brothers, 

"Guys, what the fuck. Huh? Don't leave me here."

You parroted him back in a faux American girl accent that was bordering on Valley girl style - drawing out the ‘huh’ in a long elongated manner.

"Come on, I do not sound like that."

"You so do," You giggled, making sure to pronounce your accent and slur the words in the most Australian way you could muster, fully shedding any remnants of your American accent, which most of the time, masked your natural accent. 

You closed in on him, watching his scared expression as you dipped your hand into the water and flung it at him.

He screeched as the minute droplets of water hit him, jumping backwards and realising that he'd almost hit the back of the boat.

He whined at you, "No, come on. The water’s freezing."

You mimicked back his American pronunciation of ‘water’, grinning even wider as you took a scoop of water out of the lake again and pounced, flinging it at him.

He looked shocked, water cascading down his face, soaking his hair, "Oh, oh it's on."

"Oh, oh, it's on," You parroted, mirroring his smile until you saw the water he was scooping out of the lake, with two wide cupped hands.

"No, no, no wait." You screeched, stumbling backwards and moving to protect your freshly washed hair.

He simply did not care and bringing the water which was rapidly leaking out of his hands further towards you, he began to repeat your own words back at you with a slurred and caricatured 'naur'. 

"Jack, I do not sound like that!" You protested.

"You so do," He laughed back, throwing his hands at you, subsequently dousing you in water.

You shrieked as the ice cold water hit your face, soaking you for just a second, "What the fuck! I don’t want lake water in my hair"

"Sorry, what do you not want in your hair?" Jack grinned.

Trying to squeeze out your hair, you hissed, “The water!”

“The worter?” He smirked, mocking again how you spoke, “It’s karma!”

You reached for the little bucket which had been sitting just in the corner of your eyeline for a while now, snatching it up with your hands and then quickly bringing it over the side of the boat to scoop up a load of lake water. When Jack caught on to what you were doing, his face almost completely dropped - no semblance of a smile. 

You began to laugh manically as you filled up the bucket and then brought it onto the boat, holding it close to your chest. 

"This is all you baby," You giggled, slowly stalking closer and watching as Jack continued to back up, but he was close to the edge of the boat, and about to get soaked, between laughs, you managed out, "Karma, Jack."

His protests were loud but none of them reached your ears, he continued to back up and you got ever closer, drawing it out for as long as possible just to hear his whining and complaints and protests. At one point, he almost seemed that he might get on his knees to beg, and your mouth watered at the thought.

He wasn't your boyfriend per se. But there had been a thing going on between you two for quite some years now. A summer fling that lasted across summers. One that included, deep mouthed kisses and hooking up every time you came out, one that meant he'd pull you into his lap and whisper beautiful words. He'd call you baby and sweetheart in a way which made both your heart and something else flutter at little. This was the best part though, the joking, the banter. You got so into it, and it was a sure fire way to make sure that the day ended with you falling into Jack's bed, tipsy after only one beer and clothes only half on.

The thoughts and memories pulsed through your memory as you watched Jack near the back of the boat, heels hitting the little side wall which he hastily mounted.

Half joking, you shouted, "Ohh careful Jack,"

He looked pissed as you looked up at your smiling face, you giggled even louder. This was so funny, he looked terrified.

As you neared, clutching the bucket, you watched as Jack looked at the water that you were holding in your hands and then back at the water behind him.

"Oh, gonna jump are you?" You laughed.

"Just weighing up my options," He countered jokingly, forcing the smirk wider on your face.

Then, when he looked away, just for a moment, you had an idea - the bucket was useless. This would be even better. He looked back at you for a glance and then when his gaze was diverted away again, you leapt. Dropping the bucket, you closed the difference between you two and surged at Jack, grabbing onto him as you careened with your large jump off the side of the boat. The both of you went flying, clinging onto each other. Jack screeched in a way that could be only considered girlish. It was hilarious. Right up until the moment that you realised that you were also going to be entering the water, before you hit, you screwed your eyes shut and took a deep breath before plunging into the ice cold water.

You'd already found that being underwater seems to slow down time, and this was no exception. Plunged into darkness, with nothing tangible beneath your hands or feet, you scrambled, trying to keep your eyes from letting water leak in and your breath from escaping. The lake water of Michigan was nothing like the warm water of the beaches in Australia, you always failed to remember that.

You floated there for what felt like minutes but must have been barely a few seconds, until you felt a pair of arms curl around your middle and bring you up to the surface. You gasped as you hit the surface, opening your eyes to see a panting Jack in front of you. His arms circled around you and his face was mere inches from yours. You burst out into laughter at the sight of his hair flattened like a drowned rat.

"Was it worth it?" He asked, his voice hoarse and somewhat jokey.

You considered the sight of Jack before you, objectively absolutely hilarious and then considered his mouth, just inches from you - it would be so easy to just lean in with his hands already on you. You became hyper aware of the placement, one palm resting wide on the small of your back.

Your voice dropped an octave, as you considered the possibility, responding, "Oh absolutely."

"Oh my god, baby." He laughed.

You didn't.

"Say that again."

Jack looked taken aback, but he simply cocked his head, "You like that baby."

You grinned as he pulled you in closer, "I most definitely do."

"I think you'll like this more.”

Jack closed the small distance between you two, letting your lips meet in a slightly wet kiss. His mouth, however, was still sweet as it moved in rhythm with yours, dipping past your lips gently as you resolved to pull you in closer and sliding a hand up so it rested just on your jaw. His touch propelled you forwards, deepening and moving faster, but Jack curbed you, letting the sweetness of the moment resonate. It wasn’t bruising or out of breath, but nostalgic, loving as he drew you in and moved his tongue in his familiar way. It was something that you missed. Curling your legs around his torso, Jack manoeuvred you both under the shadow of the boat, holding on the railing that you both didn’t slip beneath the surface again. His lips continued to peck at yours, occasionally sucking at your neck for a moment before you batted him away. You kissed until your fingers were pruning and his arm was weakening, then you emerged out of the lake looking guilty and secretive - until he planted a final sweet kiss on your lips and whispered, with full love, confidence and sincerity,

“I love you.”

You couldn’t not say it back.

[allthingsfangirl101]

A Long Five Years – Tyler Owens

Wattpad Request Ferrisbueller1986

It was a miracle I survived. Most of our team wasn't as lucky. After Javi, Kate, and my horrible accident, we all escaped Sapulpa. Kate ran away to New York. Javi ran away to Miami and then later joined the military. Rumor is, Javi is working for StormPAR and trying to get Kate to join him, but she's been pretty icy.

Not that I blame her.

After the storm, the three of us lost contact. When they both left, the trauma from the storm hit me all over again. The constant memories of what happened forced me to leave Sapulpa. I ended up at a college in Arkansas. That's where I met Tyler.

Tyler Owens was studying meteorology while I was studying science education. We had a few classes together here and there. After our first date, things seemed to just fit. We had a lot in common. We got along great. He was the support I needed. Tyler helped me through my PTSD from the storm. He even helped me mourn the friends I lost.

Our relationship wasn't one-sided. He told me all about his experiences riding bulls. He told me about how he got hurt and had no choice but to switch gears. He confessed that he hated having to quit competing until he met me. From the moment we went on our first date, it felt like we were perfect together. It felt like we could actually have a life together.

And that's just what we did.

We dated for six months before moving in together. After being together for a year, Tyler started his "Tornado Wranglers" group, and they began chasing storms. After his first storm, he came home beaten up. Seeing him like that sent me into a panic attack.

"Y/N," he said, grabbing my arms as my hands hovered over his face. "Baby, I'm fine."

"But you're covered in bruises and cuts and. . ." I said between short gasps.

"I'm fine," he said again.

"You can't keep doing this," I started to nervously stutter. "Please, Tyler. You can't do this. You're gonna get hurt. I've been through this. I've lost people when I did this. I can't lose you, Tyler. Please. I can't."

He cut me off by gently grabbing my face and pressing his lips to mine. I let out a small whimper as I kissed him back. When he broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against mine.

"I made it home," he soothed. "I will always make it home to you, darling. I promise. I will fight like hell to make sure I come home to you every time."

~ Five Years Later ~

Even though he chases tornadoes, Tyler has kept his promise. He always comes home to me. I was making dinner when the front door opened.

"Daddy!" Our daughter, Ally, giggled as she ran toward the front door. Three years ago, Tyler and I found out we were pregnant. This only strengthened our relationship.

I stepped out into the hallway and watched as Tyler knelt down and caught her as she jumped into his arms. He picked her up and listened as she excitedly told him about what we did today.

"And then Mommy got me a treat on the way home from the store because I was good," she giggled as Tyler looked up at me.

"She got you a treat?" He asked, not looking away from me. "Before dinner?"

"It was just a slurpee," I chuckled as I walked over to my family. With our daughter still in his arms, he wrapped his free arm around my waist.

"I missed my girls," Tyler said, looking between Ally and me.

"We missed you, too," I whispered. Tyler leaned down and kissed me. We laughed and broke the kiss when Ally pushed us apart.

"Hey," Tyler fake-pouted. "What was that for, little tornado?"

"I'm hungry," she said, sticking her bottom lip out. We laughed when she excitedly gasped. "Daddy, guess what!"

"What?" He asked, matching her excitement.

"Mommy made our favorite dinner! Special mac and cheese."

"Yum!" Tyler laughed as he started walking us into the kitchen. "Isn't Mommy the best?"

"She is!" Ally giggled. He laughed as he put her down. "What does Mommy like us to do before we eat dinner?"

"Wash our hands," Ally said proudly.

"Perfect," Tyler said as he playfully booped her nose. "Go do that and then we can eat."

He stood back up and watched as she ran toward the bathroom. Once she was gone, he turned toward me. I smiled when he instantly wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hi," I whispered back. He leaned in and firmly pressed his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I kissed him back.

"I mean it," he whispered as he broke the kiss. "I missed you."

"We missed you, too," I said, subconsciously scanning him for injuries. "Every night, Ally prays that her daddy and his friends are safe. Every night, I pray that my daughter's father and the love of my life make it home to us."

Tyler gently grabbed my chin and made me look back up at him. With his hand still gently holding my face, he leaned in and kissed me.

"I made you a promise," he said, his voice incredibly soft. "When I started chasing, I promised that I would always make it home to you. When we found out we were having a baby, that promise didn't change. I will always come home to my girls."

"You've kept that promise," I sighed, grabbing onto the front of his flannel. "But that doesn't mean I'm not scared out of my mind the entire time you're gone."

"I'm sorry," he sighed. He thought about it for a second before mumbling, "Maybe I should quit."

"Wait, what?" I gasped, pulling out of his arms. "Tyler, are you really thinking about. . ."

"I washed my hands!" Ally yelled as she ran toward us. Tyler instantly turned toward her and caught her.

"Good job, little tornado. Let's go help Mommy set the table." He sent me a look that meant we'd talk about this later before carrying our daughter into the kitchen. I let out a shaky breath before following them.

Throughout dinner, Ally giggled with her daddy and told him about everything he missed while he was gone. The entire time she talked, he listened closely.

That night, she didn't go to bed right away. She never went to bed on time when Tyler came home from chasing. I didn't have the heart to cut their time short.

"She's finally down," he chuckled as he collapsed onto the couch next to me.

"I'm surprised," I said, tucking my knees under me and turning toward him. "I was sure we'd be up all night with her begging to hear your adventure stories."

Tyler let the silence fall between us as he reached over and grabbed my hand. I was about to ask him if he's okay, but he broke the silence.

"You know that I miss you guys every second I'm gone, right?"

"Of course," I said instantly.

"I am constantly thinking about you two when I'm chasing," he continued. "At night, I wish that you guys were with me, but I know how you feel about chasing storms. I also wouldn't want you and Ally in danger. I would never put my daughter's life at risk. Or yours. I love you. I can't lose you. Either one of you."

"Tyler," I gently cut him off by cupping his cheek in my hand. "Baby, breathe."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. I leaned over and gently kissed him. I giggled when he grabbed my hips and pulled me so I was straddling him.

"I love you," he said when he broke the kiss. I leaned my forehead against his and focused on how it felt to be in his arms.

"I love you, too," I whispered. I stayed on his lap as I asked, "Did you mean what you said when you first got home? The thing you said about quitting storm chasing?"

Tyler looked away, his focus now on his hands on my hips. "I've been thinking. . ." he whispered.

When he didn't look up at me, I used my fingers to slowly lift his chin. "What were you thinking, baby?" I asked softly.

He sighed as he grabbed my hands. "I was thinking about how incredible Ally is," he slowly explained. "And I was thinking about how fun it would be for her to have a younger sibling to play with."

"You want to have another baby?"

"I do," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. I crawled off his lap and sat on the cushion next to him. As soon as I did, Tyler stood up and started pacing back and forth. "I want to have another baby, Y/N. But two babies are a lot. It's a lot for you to have to try and wrangle on your own while I'm out wrangling tornadoes and putting my life on the line. I put my life on the line. How can I put my life in danger when I have two little kids at home? I can't abandon you, forcing you to raise our kids on your own. What kind of husband would I be?"

I jumped up and stood in his pacing path. "Tyler," I said, gently placing my hands on his chest, "breathe. Me, Ally, and any other kids we have will be just fine. I promise to take care of them and protect them with everything I have."

"But you shouldn't have to do that," Tyler said, grabbing my arms without pulling them away. "You shouldn't have to protect them with everything you have, darling. That's my job. To protect you, Ally, and any other kids we have. I can't be a good father while I'm constantly putting my life at risk."

"Okay," I soothed, trying to calm him down. "Look, if you want to quit and have another baby, great. If you want to wait so you can finish your data gathering mission, great. If you want to continue chasing and also have another baby at the same time, great. Whatever you want, we can talk about it and figure it out. Whatever you choose, I want to make something perfectly clear to you: you do not have to quit your job because we have a family."

Tyler and I spent the next couple of hours talking and planning our future. That night, I fell asleep with his arms tightly wrapped around me.

I woke up to an empty bed. I checked on Ally, but she wasn't in her bed either. When I walked downstairs, I was greeted by the sound of Ally giggling and Tyler making silly noises. Tyler looked up and saw me leaning against the doorway.

"There she is," he smiled. "Are you hungry?"

"I am," I said, but didn't move. Tyler's face fell slightly.

"Everything okay?" He asked.

"Yeah," I said, ignoring the frog in my throat. "I'm just enjoying this."

Unfortunately, the perfect comfort didn't last long. His team got word of a storm brewing a few towns over. After a long goodbye, Tyler rushed off with his team.

A few nights after Tyler left, I woke up hearing the last sound I ever wanted to hear.

"NO! Daddy! Help!"

I jolted awake and ran toward Ally's room. As I swung the door open, she called out again.

"Daddy! No! Daddy, run! Please, Daddy!"

"Ally," I said, instantly at her side. I sat on the edge of her bed and tried to wake her up. "It's okay, baby. Wake up. Come on, sweetheart."

"Daddy," she whimpered.

"Ally, honey, wake up."

Ally sat up, tears instantly streaming down her face. "Daddy? Where's Daddy? I need Daddy!"

I threw my arms around her and held her tightly. I slowly rocked her as I shushed her.

"It's okay, baby," I whispered. "You're okay."

"But Daddy. . ."

"He's okay, sweetie." I tried desperately hard to soothe her. "Daddy is always safe. He's safe for us. For you."

"I miss him," she sobbed into my chest.

"I miss him too, baby girl." As my daughter whimpered into my chest, I got an idea. "Hey," I whispered, slightly pulling away so I could look at her. "I know where Daddy and his team are staying. It's not that far from here. What if we took a little road trip tomorrow to go see him?"

"Really?" Ally jumped up, her mood instantly changing.

"Really," I smiled at her. "We'll pack in the morning. Think you can fall back asleep?"

"If it means I get to see Daddy? Yes!"

* * * * *

We got to the motel, but Tyler and his team were still out chasing. I got the key from the front desk and put Ally down for a nap. I tried to busy myself waiting for him, but I couldn't calm my nerves. When I finally heard his team coming, I felt like I could relax. I looked over to see Ally still taking her nap.

"Y/N," Tyler stuttered when he saw me walking out of his motel room. He threw his duffel bag back in his truck before jogging over to me. "What are you doing here?" He asked as he threw his arms around me.

"Someone needed to see you," I whispered, slowly breaking the hug.

"Did your nightmares come back?"

"Not mine," I whispered.

"Wait, what?" He asked, gently grabbing my arms. "Ally had a nightmare?"

"She woke up at 3 am, screaming that her daddy was hurt," I said, my voice breaking. "She needed to see you, Tyler. I needed to put her in your arms."

"Okay," he soothed as he rubbed my arms. "It's okay. I'm glad you're here. I'll go inside and. . ."

"Y/N?" I looked behind Tyler to see Javi jumping out of a StormPAR van. "What are you doing here?"

"You know him?" Tyler asked.

"Well. . ."

"Y/N?" My heart jumped into my throat when I saw Kate joining Javi.

Javi's eyes narrowed when he saw the way Tyler was holding me. "What the hell is going on? Why is Owens touching you?"

Tyler looked at Javi before looking back at me. "Y/N," he whispered my name. "Do you know them?"

"Yes," I said, my eyes still glued to my brother and old best friend. "I used to chase with them."

"The storm," he said, his eyes still studying me. "The last one you did. You said you lost half your team."

"Y/N, what the hell is. . ."

"Mommy?"

We all turned to see Ally peeking her head out of the motel room.

"Did she say. . ." Javi mumbled.

"Daddy!" Ally giggled as she ran to him. I glanced at Javi when Tyler picked up Ally.

"Hey, little tornado," Tyler said as he held her close.

"I missed you, Daddy," Ally said, her voice breaking.

"Y/N," Javi whispered. "What's. . ."

"Ally," I said, my voice breaking.

"Yes, Mommy?"

"Would you like to meet your Uncle J?"

"Uncle Javi?" Tyler asked as he slowly put Ally down. "Y/N. . ."

No one said anything as Ally walked over to Javi. "Hi, Uncle J," she giggled as he knelt in front of her. "Mommy talks about you."

"She. . . She does?" He asked, looking at me.

"I wanted her to know you," I confessed. I turned toward Tyler with tears in my eyes. "Javi is my older brother. Kate was my best friend. After the storm, we kind of fell apart."

"You never told your brother about us?" Tyler asked. "Or about Ally?"

"I never. . . I haven't talked to them in five years, Tyler," I said, my voice breaking. "I didn't want a reminder of what happened, so I kind of shoved that part of my life to the side."

We stopped talking when Ally walked back over to Tyler and pulled on his pant leg. He knelt down next to her.

"Hi, baby," he whispered.

"Daddy?"

"What's wrong, little tornado?"

"I had a bad dream," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "Mommy drove us here so I could see you and you could hug me to make me feel better."

He picked her up and hugged her tightly. "I'm glad Mommy did," he whispered. He looked at me and glanced at Javi. "How about I read you a story while Mommy talks to your Uncle Javi?"

"I want Mommy to come with us," Ally said, her eyes still full of tears. I looked at Javi, and he looked away.

"I'm right here, baby," I said as I walked over to them. "Daddy and I are right here. What story should we tell you?"

"When you and Daddy first met," she smiled. "The one where Daddy saved Mommy from the bad guy."

"The bad guy?" Javi mumbled.

"That's your favorite," Tyler smiled. He grabbed my hand and pulled us into our motel room.

* * * * *

It took us about an hour to get Ally to fall asleep. Most of it was Tyler promising that he was safe and that he was right here. When she finally fell asleep, Tyler stayed with her so I could find Javi.

I walked out of the motel room and found Javi angrily going through the StormPAR van. I wrapped my arms around myself as I walked over to him.

"Hey, big brother," I tried to greet lightly.

"You have a daughter, Y/N," he snapped at me. "And what? Are you married to that Tornado Wrangler?"

"We're not married," I mumbled, tightly wrapping my arms around myself. My heart jumped into my throat when he angrily turned toward me.

"That doesn't change the fact that you never told me," he said harshly. "You never told me that you met a guy. You never told me that you had a daughter. That seems like something you should tell your brother."

"You weren't exactly answering my calls, Javi," I finally snapped. "Neither you nor Kate were calling me back. You both ran off and got careers, completely forgetting about the storm. You both left me! I couldn't stay in Sapulpa, so I ran. I ended up at college in Arkansas. That's where I met Tyler."

"He is just like we used to be," Javi scoffed. "He chases tornadoes for his little YouTube videos."

"He comes home to me," I cut him off. "He calls me before and after the storms. He loves me, Javi."

"Come on," he rolled his eyes.

"I had nightmares." My confession made him freeze. "I had horrible nightmares after the storm. When I met Tyler, we started dating. He found out about the nightmares and made me call him whenever one woke me up. He'd talk to me and sometimes even drive all the way to my place just to hold me. He loves me, Javi. And I love him."

"Y/N. . ."

"He was there for me when my brother wasn't," I said, my voice breaking. "You left me," I slowly started to sob. "You left me, Javi. You left me."

Javi slowly closed the gap between us and wrapped me in his arms. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Y/N."

He broke the hug and grabbed my hand. I let him lead me to a nearby picnic table. We sat down and, at first, neither one of us said anything.

"Ally seems great," he whispered.

"She is," I nodded. "And she loves her Daddy more than anything."

"I struggle imagining Tyler Owens, the Tornado Wrangler, as a father," Javi confessed with a small chuckle.

"He's wonderful with her," I told him. "Since the moment I told him I was pregnant, he wouldn't let me do anything. He used to freak out if I got up to get water. I'm not kidding, Javi. He waited on me, hand and foot. After I had Ally, he started doing that for her. She's his whole world."

"He loves you."

I looked at him to see him staring off, not really focused on anything.

"He does," I answered even though it wasn't a question. "He loves me, Javi. And our daughter. He takes care of us."

"Earlier," he said softly, "Ally wanted you and Tyler to tell her the story of how he saved you from a bad guy. What bad guy?"

"To be honest," I sighed, "there wasn't a bad guy. We kind of "Disney" it up for her. She thinks that a bad guy was following me home from class, and Tyler stepped in and told him to leave me alone. After that, Tyler asked to walk me home to make sure the guy wouldn't come back."

"What actually happened?" Javi asked.

"Tyler and I first met at college," I started to explain. "We were in a science class and were studying the weather. They showed us a video of storm chasers. It triggered my PTSD and I ran out of class, practically tripping over Tyler. He ran after me and caught me struggling with a panic attack. He calmed me down and talked me through it. He asked if I wanted to walk around the campus garden. We walked around for over an hour talking about things."

"The storm?" I looked at Javi to see him finally looking at me. "You told him about the storm?" He asked.

"I did," I shrugged. "I needed someone to talk to."

He sighed as he looked away. My throat tightened when he reached over and grabbed my hand. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered. "I should've been around more."

We looked over when mine and Tyler's motel room door slowly opened. When Tyler's eyes found me, he let out a visible breath.

"Is he good to you?" Javi asked.

"He is," I nodded. "He's really good to me, Javi. And to Ally."

I stood up and started to walk away, but Javi grabbed my hand. I turned around to see him sadly smiling at me.

"If he ever hurts you, you let me know and I'll leave him in a tornado."

"Javi," I sighed with a small giggle. He pulled me back into his arms and tightly hugged me.

"I'll be around more," he whispered. "I promise."

He let me go and jokingly pushed me toward Tyler. I rolled my eyes before walking away. As soon as I approached him, he wrapped his arms around my waist.

"How's Ally?" I asked.

"She's sleeping," he said, nodding his head toward the room. "I'm more worried about you. Everything okay?" Tyler's eyes glanced behind me toward Javi.

"I think so," I said, finally feeling like I could breathe. "It's going to take time, but we're working on it."

"Good," Tyler whispered, pulling me closer. "I'm glad."

"I'm sorry I never told Javi about you or Ally," I sighed. "I'm not embarrassed or ashamed of you."

"Why didn't you tell him?" He asked, not an ounce of anger in his voice.

"Because," I said, my voice slightly breaking, "I needed to get away from Sapulpa. I felt stuck after the storm. Nothing I did made it easier to move on, so I left. And then I ran into you. And you gave me a new life. A better life. I didn't want to risk losing that."

Tyler sighed as he pulled me into his chest so my head was pressed to his chest. I closed my eyes and focused on his heartbeat.

"You could never risk losing that," he whispered. "Ally and I will always be here."

I leaned back and looked up at him. He smiled as he reached up and moved some hair out of my face.

"I love you, Mr. Tornado Wrangler."

"I love you, Mrs. Tornado Wrangler."

"Is that a fitting nickname?" I giggled.

"We have a daughter and have been together for five years," he shrugged.

"Yeah," I said slowly, "but we're kind of forgetting something."

"Oh yeah," he smirked. "We are."

He kissed my cheek before walking into the room. Before I could overthink things, he jogged back. He stepped in front of me and grabbed my left hand. My heart jumped into my throat when he slowly knelt down on one knee.

"What are you doing?" I whispered when I saw the diamond ring in his hand.

"Finally making it official," he smiled up at me. "Finally making us a family."

"We are already a family," I said, tears filling my eyes.

"True," he chuckled as he slipped the ring on my finger. "But now, you're officially my bride, soon to be my wife. I love you, Y/N. I want to be by your side every day of my life. I want my job to be taking care of you and our amazing daughter. I want to be able to call you my wife. Y/N, will you marry me?"

"I love you so much, Tyler," I whispered, my voice breaking as tears streamed down my face. "I want you to call me your wife. I want to call you my husband. I trust you to take care of me and Ally. I love you so much. Yes, I will marry you."

Tyler stood up and kissed me. I threw my arms around him as I kissed him back. I giggled against his lips when he picked me up and spun me around. He put me back down and slowly broke the kiss.

"I should go tell my brother," I giggled.

"While you do that, I'm going to start running," he smirked. "I think I can outrun Javi."

"I wouldn't be so sure," I teased. "He was in the military."

[merrrrrrrrrrru]

for the dr apollo, imagine if eventually time passing is signaled by hermes hair getting longer and longer. nothing else changes and hermes never escapes ans the days are like a broken record, repeating, stagnating, for apollo has impossibally managed to pin down the unpinnable and keep him there in the palm of his control for all of their enternity.

thinking about if hermes having such a fulfilling life before ending up at apollos hospital. thinking about if hermes did indeed try to escape before, but it ended horribly, and hermes... learnt his lesson (apollo dosed him so high, the symptoms had him wishing for death. or something lol). thinking about since that failed escape, his health has only continued to worsen more and more. he gets better then gets worse and better and worse again, and he grows more and more relient on apollo by the day. all throughout apollo is his only source of comfort and support obviously hes the medical expert so he knows whats best, and the cultivated trust only sinks him deeper and deeper until he can no longer see a way out.

lol leally loving this new au meru, its so messed up in the best of ways/pos

glad you love it 🙂‍↕️ i have a thing for work ethics violations/j

apollo is a good doctor, too good, that’s why no one questions him and hermes brushed away almost everything suspicious.

as for hermes’ life before he got sick,,,,, he did kiiiinda have a good life? but he was overworked and under appreciated (in the sense that people only care and come to him because he’s good at his job) so that’s part of the reason why he hasn’t tried to escape,,,, he’s cared for and resting here

apollo wouldn’t do anything to put him in pain, but he would keep him just on the edge so that he’s unable to go home. his fevers also prevent him from remembering certain things

just a bonus, the only person who knows about this is artemis but at least her brother is finally showing emotions to someone else sooooo she didn’t say anything

[all-pacas]

CHASE: [walking into House's office] You sabotaged Foreman's job interview, didn't you? HOUSE: Foreman's already been over this. It wasn't me. CHASE: Everybody's chasing ghosts over this. Which means either nobody did it, or somebody wants everybody chasing ghosts. Now who does that sound like? HOUSE: [almost smiling, growing serious:] Now, why would I do that? CHASE: Because as long as Foreman thought you were guilty, he was gonna be useless around here. HOUSE: [laughs] Sometimes, I forget why I hired you.

(they then proceed to have a short and completely honest conversation about why house did it, no bullshit at all.) just!!!! first of all, this is the nicest thing house has ever said about chase. but also! chase is sharp as hell. he is pretty consistently good at Getting house, at reading people, and in turn house actually gives chase quite a lot of honesty -- maybe because chase so rarely pushes for it. chase in s8, after being stabbed. knows and explains that house was worried, that he was making up excuses to visit. chase in s5, promising to do surgery if house tells him why; house telling him the truth -- that the patient reminds him of himself. in the same scene, house asking chase to manipulate his boss: house at other times calling chase sneaky. a schemer.

house, despite the "his dad made a phone call" line, admitting with a proud little smile: this is why i hired you.

one scene earlier, house and foreman have an argument over treatment. house says foreman has two choices: a futile argument with house before doing what he's told, or just going ahead and doing what he's told. foreman throws up his hands and goes to obey, and house calls him out: he had a third choice, to not do what house asked. but he wouldn't, because foreman trusts house's instincts more than his own.

cut to chase in house's office. house says no, it wasn't me!. chase says yes, it was, and here's why. he knows he's right. house knows he's right. it's the next scene.

(also: in the first ten minutes of the episode, the patient complains to foreman he can barely bend his fingers. this turns out to be the Big Clue that leads to his diagnoses, but it takes house realizing it on his own in the last five minutes: foreman apparently forgot to mention it or didn't think it was important. another sign he's not Ready)

[samiferboy]

i am not immune to the idea of s1-2 samifer

[zarla-s]

[DELTARUNE CHAPTER 3+4 SPOILERS]

Thinking about why I like Tenna, he's fun, but he doesn't grab me like Spamton does, in spite of them both being OTT flashy weirdos who are sad and attention-starved. On the surface they act pretty similar, to the point where I thought of Tenna as Diet Spamton, but the more I think about it they actually have a lot of really big differences between them. They're almost opposites, actually. What I think it comes down to is their greater themes. Tenna, King, and Queen are all about abandonment/neglect. Spamton, in comparison, is all about failure.

Spamton is a persona non grata in Cyber City, no one ever talks about him and the Addisons refuse to if you try and confront them about it. He has a strange and quirky battle, but if you forget to follow up on him later, he's a footnote in the whole chapter. He's a tiny guy in a big world.

Tenna is the absolute ruler of TV Land and the entire reality of it bends to his whims. He's huge, bigger than life, everything revolves around him at all times. Everything has his face, everyone does what he wants under restrictive contracts even if they don't want to. Tenna IS TV World.

You meet Spamton at his lowest point. He's living in the garbage, no one will talk to him, he has no control or power over anything without manipulating them into giving it to him (usually unsuccessfully). A lot of his dialogue implies he's beaten by other people regularly. He's angry and frustrated and desperate, and he knows he needs a patsy to get out because he can't get out himself.

Tenna in comparison is living the high life. Almost everything is showy and glamorous (except the Z room, which is associated with Spamton). He IS the Big Shot Spamton used to be and wants to be again. He can, like Jevil, do anything.

Spamton wants to be BIG, partly for the attention and power but mostly because he wants to get OUT. He wants to LEAVE the Dark World and become real, not just an object in the shadows trapped by how Lightners perceive him. He wants to escape the fantasy world into reality, ascending into what he thinks is Heaven. He's the only boss that seems to want this, rather than validation from Lightners.

Tenna wants a past that's gone, where he felt like he glued a family together and everyone was happy watching him and being with him. He wants attention and validation and love from Lightners again, promises that he's still relevant and useful as an escape from reality. Tenna wants to stay in an eternal fantasy world and expand and enable it.

Spamton feels trapped by the voice on the phone and reaches out to Kris by saying he can't force them to do anything, that he can tell Kris is desperate for freedom just like he is. He asks Kris to do him favors to get him the body that he thinks will let him become real. He gives himself into their hands as the LoadedDisk because he can't do it himself (normally). Spamton treats and talks to Kris like a potential partner/customer to scam.

Tenna actually seems scared of Kris, saying that he did everything that they told him to. Kris was the one giving the orders, not Tenna. Tenna's desperate to bring Kris back to a time when their family was intact and they were happy and he was valuable and needed, and he tries to force Kris into more games to try and keep them there. Tenna treats Kris fearfully, like his boss or a sponsor he needs to please or he'll suffer the consequences.

Spamton started as a failure and needed outside support from the voice to become a success, which eventually exerted total control over his life, driving him right back into the dumpster. When he was about to share the secret of that "success" with Tenna, the voice scared him into running away, abandoning him.

Tenna was always successful. It seems like rather than a parabola of failure-success-failure, he's just in a steady decline. Tenna has complete control over his Dark World but it doesn't matter, he can't actually change reality in the Light World. Tenna is in the process of failing when we meet him - Spamton has already failed.

Spamton is obsessed with money. The absolute core of his being is scamming people and making money, it defines his existence. He will do literally anything for it.

Money doesn't even work in TV Land. Instead you get points that Tenna doles out (completely at his discretion) that are worthless outside of TV Land. Tenna gives away prizes and points as incentives to stay and pay attention to him. He wants attention more than anything else.

Spamton is a member of a group of Darkners, the Addisons, who all look very similar to each other with some small variations. He spent a lot of time with them as loverscoworkers. Another instance of being a little guy in a big group.

Tenna is one of a kind. There's no other being in TV Land anything like him. Nothing even comes close. He's completely unique.

Spamton doesn't want validation from Lightners. What he wants is the power to get out of the Dark World and become real. He has his own entirely self-focused goals that don't involve Lightners or the Dark World at all.

Tenna will do anything for validation from Lightners, they define his entire existence. Without them he feels purposeless. He's desperate to give Kris the world they want and for Kris to tell him he's doing a good job, essentially. In this, Tenna is very much like Queen and King. He begs you repeatedly to say you love him and to never leave him.

This is just funny to me but Spamton mentions Tenna rarely but Tenna talks about Spamton constantly lol. Spamton just lives rent-free in Tenna's head.

When you beat Spamton, Kris has a breakdown about it, presumably because they see a lot of similarities between their situations (unwilling puppets trapped by forces controlling them, usually coming from a phone) and how Spamton in the end couldn't escape his strings.

Kris on the other hand doesn't seem that upset about what happens to Tenna, even if he dies. Maybe Kris just didn't have a chance to, given the Knight jumps you almost immediately, but that kind of connection that Spamton and Kris have just isn't there with Kris and Tenna.

Spamton can understand the voice on the phone. Tenna, Blue Addison, and the Player cannot.

Tenna (and his death) are foretold in the prophecy. Spamton, so far, is not.

Television was a massive success and defined multiple generations, and, while diminished, still plays a massive part of the media landscape. Spam email has always been a nuisance no one likes and has a very low, if any, success rate, even though it's inescapable. Television platforms ads, Spamton IS an ad.

Spamton has connections to a variety of other Darkners, like Queen, Swatch, Jevil, and the Addisons. Tenna, being the complete center of his Dark World, really only has a connection to Spamton. (They do share a connection with Mike but that's a weird case.)

Tenna is very isolated in his world, with only his lackeys around him that he treats rather badly. Spamton in comparison is surrounded by other people constantly but all of them deliberately ignore him, isolating him in a different way.

Thematically, this matches their respective mediums. TV is a self-contained passive entertainment source that's primarily solitary, although it can be shared if others are nearby. The things you see on TV are tightly controlled and structured. The internet in comparison is a massive eternally expanding collaboration of people constantly interacting with each other - by its nature it's inescapably social and uncontrollable.

Spamton was always doomed to fail. In the end all his dreams are shattered and all he can do is give himself to you as an item to try and help you achieve yours. He can come out of the glasses on occasion but his life on his own as far as we know it is over. This tragedy (and presumably the sick irony of gaining control over Spamton as an item when all he wanted was freedom) is what leads to Kris's breakdown.

Tenna nearly dies but recovers (usually) and starts a new life with Mettaton, who appreciates and promises to care for him. When we leave him, Tenna is off to a brand new fresh start to a happier life. It's a hopeful and heartwarming conclusion to his arc.

Tenna is intact. He's lucid and coherent, he speaks clearly, he adds graphical and audio flourishes to his text with no issue. He worries about burn-in and being old, but none of that is present in his Dark World form. He's fine.

Spamton is broken. He glitches and falls apart, he can't speak clearly at all. His bracket words are like uncontrollable tics that obscure things against his will. At times it seems like he's being entirely taken over by other forces that speak through him.

There are a lot of things they have in common too of course. They both do like slapping their faces on everything, including their own branded products, haha. They also both want to be successful, in their own ways. They seemed to really like each other at one point and had a good time together! And despite the vast discrepancy in power between them, they're both very alone in their worlds. They both have abandonment issues, although Tenna's manifests as desperation and clinginess while Spamton's manifests as anger and bitterness. They are both in denial about it though lol.

The key thing that broke them up was the person on the phone scaring Spamton into abandoning Tenna right before he was going to tell him the secret of his "success". It seems rather deliberate on the voice's part... I wonder why they did that? I wonder if Tenna knowing the "secret" would have changed the prophecy...

[toxicanonymity]

Wreck

PAIRING: Michael Myers x fem/afab Reader

ONE SHOT: 4300 words | MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: MM is unconscious and shackled in a broken down bus. Reader takes shelter there and takes advantage.

WARNINGS: 18+ noncon dry humping, oral, & PIV; size kink, size diff, mask kink, manhandling, creampie, forced cum inflation - erotic body horror, (self) cum play. smut goes hard. 😳

NOTES: Reader wears a chekov's dress, no pronouns used. MM never speaks, and his face and hair are undescribed, so you can HC a DILF of your choice under the mask. Even him.

For @megangovier, @aurorawritestoescape , @sofmoth , and the cumflation nation. Thank you for your support and Happy Shaperil, everyone (the halfway point between Octobers). 💙

Hitchhiking didn’t even seem like a good idea at the time. You weren’t kidding yourself. Not only did you accept the risk, but there was something about the risk that made you feel alive.

This time was different, though. You became more uneasy as the ride continued. The man kept looking over and eyeing your legs as you tugged your dress down. This wouldn’t have bothered you much if he were someone else. In fact, if he’d pulled over to fuck you, it wouldn’t be your first rodeo, but there was something sinister about this man, and not in a hot way. As he lost control of his truck, there was a split second where you thought, thank God–until the truck began to roll.

You escaped the wreck dizzy but unscathed. The adrenaline surging through your blood made you so horny you would’ve considered fucking the man after all, if he weren’t staring blankly into space as the life drained from his face.

After climbing out of the truck, you took a few deep breaths and surveyed the surroundings. Bodies were strewn across the road and an orange prisoner transport bus was hissing smoke from the distorted hood of its engine. This was bad. You needed to get as far away as you could.

The problem was, you were in the middle of nowhere, in an unforgiving desert, and you were almost out of water. None to be found in the wreckage of your ride, and you hesitated to approach the prisoner transport bus.

From the comfort of your bed, under the buzz of a toy, this could easily have been another fantasy of yours, but it seemed your survival instincts were kicking in after all.

So you took what water you had and set off on foot in the direction you were headed all along. With any luck, the transport vehicle wasn’t coming from too far away. Keeping a safe distance from the transport bus, you listened for any signs of life as you walked by it, and you heard none, until you were thirty paces away, and something thumped. You thought. Or was it your imagination? Pausing to listen, you didn’t hear another sound, and weren’t sure what you would have done if you did hear something else.

All you could do was walk, but with every step, you became less sure of your plan. You weren’t entirely sure what road you were even on, only that it was long and straight. State route something or other. No shade. Only cacti and tumbleweed. The road ahead faded into a slippery mirage. What do they say to do when you get lost? Stay in one place, right? Authorities would be looking for the transport bus. When they found it, they’d find you. Yeah. With that revelation, you turned around and headed back toward the bus.

As you walked by the bus this time, you came a little closer, and you had to do a double-take at one of the windows. An enormous man with a stark white face and dark eyes staring at the ceiling of the bus—no, not dark eyes. A mask. Your breath hitched. That’s when you read the lettering on the side of the bus for the first time:

SMITH’S GROVE SANITARIUM

Your chest went hot with recognition. You didn't feel alone anymore. The desert didn't feel quite as big.

The sun had been fading as you walked, but sunset seemed to accelerate after this revelation.

A crack of thunder told you why.

Fat drops of petrichor began to blacken the dusty road in perfect little circles. As the rain picked up, you cupped your hands together, turned your mouth to the sky for a drink.

You had a few choices, none of them good. Sit on the side of the road in the rain. Return to the wreckage and take shelter with your driver’s body. Flatten yourself under the transport bus like a cat. Or get on board.

-

You approached the open doors of the bus with your heart pounding. Was anyone alive in there? They would've left, wouldn't they? Why would Michael be wearing his mask?

With your first steps onto the stairs, the echo of your shoe made you jump. You took them off after climbing into the vehicle. The driver’s head was slumped over the steering wheel, eyes open. Some of the blood appeared to be dry. If there had been others in the bus, they must have fled before your accident.

The only bodies remaining were two, near the back: That hulking figure and a man in a white coat. Strewn about were an open box marked “evidence,” a ballpoint pen in the shape of a spine, scattered papers, and a box labeled MYERS 10-19-1957

You pieced together the scene: perhaps the doctor himself had provided the mask. People said he wasn’t right in the head. That he revered Michael as a force of nature who belonged in the wild. The scene before you began to resemble the ruins of ill fated plans to return Michael to his rightful state. The psychiatrist had even brought a knife for the killer–a knife that ended up in his own neck, somehow.

As you neared the bodies, you thought you heard what sounded like a quiet ventilator at a slow rhythm.

When you listened closer, you could hardly hear it over the rain and the best of your own heart. But something told you Michael was alive. He was alive, you could feel it. Dark energy radiated from his seat, making you weak, holding you captive. Your legs wouldn't move even if you wanted to run.

Was he hurt?

The sound of the rain hitting the roof of the bus was soothing. More soothing than it should have been.

When you got close enough to look at Michael from a different angle, you really began to feel how large he was. He was sturdy. His trunk was strong and thick. His arms were huge. You couldn't see his neck, but there was a sliver of skin exposed between the front of his jumpsuit and the rubber of the mask, and there was a thick vein there. The jumpsuit stretched over the expanse of his chest, and the rise and fall of it told you he was alive.

As your eyes panned down, your breath hitched at a raised lump on his lower torso.

A phallic lump, in just the right place… Jesus Christ, could it be that big?

Was he hard?

Was he awake?

You were transfixed by this bulge and the promise of its girth. Your body readied itself without your permission, churning slick into your core, opening up, making room for a monstrous intrusion. Your face heated up at the thought. You salivated. Your heart raced.

You looked away and closed your eyes, and felt it even stronger.

You sat down in the seat diagonal from his, but couldn't take your eyes off him. It was self preservation - he could come to life and attack at any moment. Willing yourself to think about anything else, you tried to imagine where you'd be without the crash.

-

Who knows how long you were sitting there, but the rain was heavier, and your loins were hotter. Your thighs stuck to the weathered brown seat as you began to rise. You were tingling, dripping, Throbbing, throbbing for this killer.

Unable to resist any longer, you approached. You watched his chest rise and fall at a steady rhythm. Listened for his breathing, no longer audible under the hard rain.

You inched ever closer, until you were facing him and placed your hand near his shoulder on the corner of the seat, a small slice of brown not covered by his body.

And then, you experimentally grazed the arm of his jumpsuit.

He didn't move.

You ran your fingers over his enormous biceps, and his muscles dwarfed your hand.

He didn't move.

You gave his arm a squeeze.

He didn't move.

He was slumped down in the seat a little bit and his hands were cuffed behind his back.

His feet were shackled.

You began to calculate how badly he could hurt you if he were to react to your closeness.

What kind of weapons could he use?

What would his instinct be?

Part of you was excited to find out.

You progressed from touching his arm to touching his chest. And then…. your hand traveled down his torso, growing ever closer to the telltale shape sprouting from his crotch.

The body under your hand became warmer as your palm slid down his core and swerved to the side of the massive log in its path.

You just barely grazed the side of it, and a shock of arousal seized your body, paralyzing you for just a moment.

You had to remember to breathe.

You were drooling, throbbing for him. Your hand shakily dragged down along the edge of the outline of his cock, the edge of your finger rubbing just hard enough against it to feel the heat of the shape, and the give of the organ.

He wasn't even at full mast. He was semi-hard. You looked up at the mask again. Checked his chest for any changes in breathing. He showed no signs of waking up. So you did it. You placed your hand there, gently, and cradled the shape of his dick.

You’d never been more aroused. It was enormous under your hand. It made you feel small. You were so turned on and also nervous. Could you even take him if you wanted to? Who were you kidding: you wanted to. But it was a scary thought. Who could possibly take a dick like this? Your hand rubbed him lightly, all the way down his shaft, between his spread legs, to feel his enormous balls, which gave you another zap of need.

And when your palms slid back up his dick, you pressed down a little harder. His girth swelled against your hand, twitched, and got firmer.

You slowly moved your hand, slid your palm up and down his shaft, feeling him stiffen into a bold, erect shape until his absurd girth strained the fabric of his jumpsuit.

He still hadn't woken up.

You placed one knee onto the seat, against his thigh. The seat was made for two, but his enormity meant there was barely any room for this. You straddled him with your thighs spread wide. God, the size of this man.

He could wake up at any moment and throw you across the bus or worse. He could probably do it even cuffed, you thought. But at this point, there was no turning back.

You wanted it too bad. As though physically possessed by the desire, nothing would stop you.

You had to feel him with your loins.

With your dress spread between your thighs, you lowered your crotch, and the front of your panties rubbed against his dick outline, making you shiver and erupt in goosebumps before you even came to rest on his warm, hard bulge.

Fuck, you were so wet.

You rubbed yourself up and down his stiff manhood and it made your clit throb and twitch, aching for relief. You grinded against him, bracing one hand on his shoulder, and groping your own breast with the other. Your breaths became heavy as pressure built in your belly. He twitched against your sensitive bundle of nerves and the tension burst, and pulsed, and released, echoing between your legs.You came as quietly as you could, your walks squeezing needily around nothing.

The last twitch of your hole was violent. It told you how bad you had to be filled.

You had to unzip him.

Above a white tank top and under a thin gold chain, his skin was littered with white scars and divots, scant chest hair–pepper with a little salt. Prison tattoos were barely visible through the thin, ribbed fabric. His middle was thick and strong, solid muscle padded by years of confinement.

As the zipper nearly reached his cock, you used both hands to pull on the fabric, trying to get it as far away from the skin as you could, trying to create space where there was none. You didn't want to hurt him. Didn't want to wake him up.

When you unzipped the rest of his suit, his cock bobbed even heavier than it looked.

You could hardly fathom the girth of what stood before you. There was no way you could wrap your hand around it. There was no way you could take it, could you?

There was no way you weren't going to try.

The fat, pink tip of his cock glistened with pre-cum. You gathered the ample saliva in your mouth, and brought your lips close to his cock. You were hit with a wave of his musk that nearly knocked you out, making your nipples hard and your jaw slack.

Next thing you knew, you were squatting between his feet. The ridged rubber flooring dug into the balls of your feet, with your legs folded neatly, making yourself compact between the seats. Your head bobbed forward and your lips engulfed his tip. You let it rest heavily on your tongue, appreciating the warm heft in your mouth. With a gentle suck, you took another inch into your mouth, feeling the crown of the head. Tonguing it. Then you tongued the slit, and the salty precum reminded you of your mission.

You held it in your mouth as saliva gathered in your mouth, then swirled your tongue around the cock head. You let it out of your mouth, connected by a string of spit, and drooled more spit onto it before swallowing and getting into position. You spread your saliva on his tip. Your panties were not a factor - the loose g-string was easily pulled to the side.

Back into straddling him, you held his shaft and almost had to squat with your bare feet on the seat instead of being on your knees to allow enough room for his cock between you. You rubbed his tip against your dripping entrance, up your slippery slit, and nudged your clit with it, then brought it back to your eagerly awaiting hole and lowered yourself. His cock slowly spread you open. The stretch burned and radiated outward - the wide tip seemed to occupy all of you already. But you let gravity take you down further, and really, you hadn't even taken the whole tip - was just the initial curve. Slowly sinking onto him, the stretch intensified as you accommodated the girth of his tip and bit your lip. It was an exhilarating feat.

There was going back.

It burned, but it burned so good. You might never feel this stretch again. You sank a little further onto him and failed to stifle a closed-mouth moan, “mmm.”

The burn became a buzzing tingle.

The exhilaration became a hunger for more, and you slid down his shaft like a miracle.

Jesus Christ, you'd never felt so full of anything. Your whole body was spread around him, all of your guts forced out of the way.

You went further still down his cock, taking more than you imagined anyone could fit. By the time you bottomed out, the burn subsided into a feeling that you were gripping him. Spread thin and tight around him, he wore you on his cock. Your walls hugged his shaft, and it throbbed. It throbbed inside you.

You sat there, reveling in the fullness with your watering eyes scanning his torso and beautiful skin. You ran your thumb lightly over two bullet wounds just above his pec and felt him swell inside you.

Oh fuck, He swelled, he grew. Making you fuller than full. He throbbed and twitched, and nudged something in your depths that made you whispered out loud, “Oh, Fuck.”

Oh, God, the fullness was something to behold in its own right. You could have sat like that all day. but he had nudged something else inside you, something you needed to pursue.

And when you tilted your hips, his shaft nudged it again. Something that twitched, something that spasmed, something that had you ready to trip over another edge and freefall into bilss.

You slowly rolled your hips, not letting much if any length out of your cunt. Your insides clung to him right and merely shifted inside yourself, as though you were a fleshlight. That movement inside yourself made enough tension, friction, and pressure to make you chase more release. You moved your hips, barely going up and down on his cock, taking the pleasure you needed. You took and you took from him. Slowly, you had your way, until the pressure was building to uncontainable heights. Your breaths were shallow, and you could hardly take it. You took a deep breath and tilted your head toward the ceiling.

You closed your eyes and relaxed as best you could, with your entire body tense at the edge of your climax.

His dick twitched again, and you saw stars.

Your cunt tightened around his cock as pleasure spasmed through your core, bursting from your

solar plexus. “Oh god,” you breathed, you held both your breasts as you bottomed out again and came on his cock in a series of spasms that seemed to last a full minute. Your body was hugging his massive manhood, possessing it, possessing him. Your bodies were joined so tight, like you were one. Your energy faded as the orgasm rode on.

Your body leaned toward his, your tits pointy through your damp dress, poking against his chest. Your nose brushed his mask, inhaling latex, and then…. your lips found the perfectly sculpted, white rubber of his. You pressed a kiss onto the mask’s distinctive top lip and a different shock spread through your chest. You opened your eyes as you pulled back, and your fingers went to lightly brush your your own lips. Still spread around his cock, you trembed with an aftershock. And just as your climax was ending, a low rumble came from his chest.

His pecs flexed, his body tensed, and your heart jumped. You tried to slide off his cock, but his hips shifted and his cock grew again, making you whimper. Just as your body had grown to accept his size, there was more of him to hold. He throbbed and twitched and grunted. Metal jingled behind his back and at the floor board as you panicked. He growled and moaned, foreboding a seismic eruption in your womb. His hips lifted out of the seat, pushing you up, and if you weren't anchored by his girth you might have flown off and hit the ceiling

Like nothing you’d ever felt, his cock throbbed massively as it shot monster ropes of cum into you, spurting rapid fire, every twitch of the organ felt by your walls, by your cervix. Something snapped and let go in your depths, slick gushed around his cock, providing just the lube you needed to slide yourself up. But before you were off his shaft, the cuffs snapped, and his massive hands flew to your shoulders, broken chains dangling as he held you down on his cock.

He grunted as he filled you up with his seed. Time seemed to stop, but the flow of cum didn’t. It felt he was cumming for so long, but with it possibly being the last moment of your waking life, you were no longer in a hurry for it to end.

A new fullness bloomed in your depths, different than the fullness of his cock. Higher, more spread out. Pressure mounted in your lower belly. More and more pressure with each burst, each massive rope. And then his happy trail, pressed against your lower belly. It tickled your, and you looked down to a sight that made your clit twitch and put butterflies in your chest. His happy trail wasn’t pressing into you. Your belly was pressing into him. Your dress curved outward in a new shape. Not massive, but noticeable. You lifted your dress out of the way to see your belly bloated and round, filling out against his body as he stuffed you with his cum. The pressure was overwhelming. It didn’t feel bad, but the effect on your body scared you.

“No more,” you begged, then realized the bursts ad weakened and he’d already slowed to a trickle. “What’s happening?” You asked, voice shaky.

No reply, but his hands tightened into a bruising grip on your arms when you tried to move. His breath was deep and ragged.

He slowly tilted his head, then looked down at your exposed bloated belly. He moved his hands to your hips and the cool metal of the broken cuffs grazed your hot flesh. You looked down at yourself again, mesmerized. Maybe the shape was exaggerated in this position and might even put once you stood up. It couldn’t have been that much cum. You were embarrassed, worried, shocked, but also turned on. Very turned on.

Your nipples were so hard they were sore. Your breasts heaved under your dress, and the sight of them gave you another wave of humiliation and arousal. You couldn’t be completely certain, but your breasts seemed to look fuller. It could be in your head, you thought. You had gained a few pounds, you told yourself. This just happened to be the first time you noticed. But a different part of you knew some people thought Michael wasn’t human, that he was something from beyond. He was simply the shape of pure evil. His strength was superhuman, and you wondered if his semen might be, too. It terrified you and made you throb.

Your cunt now comfortably hugged his cock, which was no less stiff tha n it had been before he came. You couldn’t be sure if his swelling had gone down or if your body had again adjusted, more elastic than you ever thought possible. Or at least, you hoped it was elasticity. The idea that he could have stretched you beyond repair would be devastating. You might never be full again.

Michael’s hips began to rock under you, and he lifted you effortlessly, slid you up his shaft. He bounced you and wielded you up and down his dick, steadily ramping up the pace until the wind was nearly knocked out of you. It was clear he was using you as a cocksleeve. Fucking up into it as he jacked himself off with your body. It was just a warm, wet tunnel for his cock. Your thighs quivered and your breasts and belly bounced. He held you like a toy, head tilted down, yearning to see your swollen body swallow his unfathomable size, if his view weren’t obstructed by the aftermath of his load. Your insides pulsed with pleasure, you began to gush again, and a third orgasm caught you off guard. He growled as it choked his cock and then he slammed you down hard and erupted once again.

“No,” you pleaded, and held your tummy with both hands. “I can’t, it won’t fit.” He didn’t stop, and why should he? You did this. You put yourself on his cock, you took from him and he was continuing to give. There was barely any time between each rope. The steady pulse of his cock made you swell a little more, overfilling you. Your skin tightened to contain your swelling womb. It was a pleasant stretch and one you had earned. You held your belly and watched it slowly grow as the modest orb bounced with each lift of his hips.

When he was finished, He just sat there, then he lifted you off his cock and put you aside, making you stand next to the seat. He turned to face you, with his legs in the aisle, and his cum-coated cock still out. He lifted your dress and bent forward to look between your legs.

As your body drew itself back together, warm cum ran down your thighs. He huffed. You held your belly, expecting it to shrink. If it did, it was gradual.

Michael reached between his feet and used his hands to break the shackle. He tucked himself away, turned up his collar, and took your face in his hands. His thumb brushed your cheek, then he turned to leave. His boots thumped heavily down the aisle as he slowly exited the bus. He walked off into the rain and didn’t look back.

The drip of cum slowed with your womb still full. You sat on a seat and spread your legs wide, and used your fingers to pull more cum out of you. You were so stretched out that you could use four fingers with no trouble at all. You could have fit your whole hand in, and tried, but the effort of bending to get a good angle left you out of breath.

After scraping as much cum as you could out, you tried putting pressure on your belly. First with your hands, then by bending forward so it was against your thighs. The swelling went down a little, but you were still distended and beginning to cramp.

You tried with fingers again and found you had already tightened up at least a little again, to your relief. You stood up to stretch and caught your reflection in the window. You didn’t look quite as big as you imagined. Not full term, at least, but you probably looked five or six months pregnant. You walked to the front of the bus to look at yourself in the rearview mirror. Turning to the side, you held the fabric to the shape of your belly. It wasn't that bad. You could live with this, until the swelling went down. At least you didn't have to walk around gaping.

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Don't be too sad that he walks away, I HC that he could come back or find reader again 💙

If you enjoyed this, I have a ghostface fic with a similar situation and parts 1, 2, and 3 are my top 3 most popular fics ever. Every Inch

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed it. Letting me know what you liked helps my future fics. 💙

[peoniesnro]

Perfect Partner | Sequel 2.1

Synopsis - You find you have no one to turn to except, Jeon Jungkook!!

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre- Yandere | Dark Romance

Warnings- Yandere (Mentions of kidnapping/ Emotional manipulation/ Toxic and unhealthy love/ Obsessive Love/ Threats against loved once/ Forced Intimacy/ Abusive behavior/ Controlling behavior/ Power play/ Jeon is the same sweet asshole/ Unhealthy coping mechanisms/ Reader is broken/ Possesiveness/ Hope I haven't missed anything) SMUT (Making out/ Finger suckings (Palm too)/ Dry humping/ Humiliation/ Begging/ Groping/ Heavy degradation/ Dirty talking/ Unprotected sex/ Rough sex/ Multiple orgasms/ Begging for cum/ Chocking/ Creampie/ Shower sex/ Threats during sex/ Crying during sex/ Daddy kink!!/ Sex tapes/ Mentions of bondage, shoe ridings/ Again I hope I missed none) Please remember this is yandere!!!

Word count- 18.7K

a/n- Hello there babies!!!! My apologies for splitting the sequel into two parts but I had to considering this was getting too long (we have 18K words already). If I contniued to write untill the end, I'd have ended up writing 50K words and we all would've be in our sixties by the time I uploaded it. So,bear with me while I first upload this one and let's wait for the next one. Also, in this one I paid more attention to SMUT (like half of this is smut), so it might looks like nothing is happening. But I promise, the sereis will end with the next part. (Let's hope Daebi gets what she deserves!) Thank you so much for reading and the support you've shown. I love you all sosososososooo much ❤️.

RUNRUNRUN

This is the second sequel, read the first part here -

Perfect Partner

Coffee?

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

You open your heavy eyelids, feeling as if they are glued. Every inch of your body is sore. Head throbbing. Unmistakable signs of heavy crying in the previous night. You wince in pain as the bright sunlight leaking through the ashy curtains strikes your eyes. You groan softly as you try to move your body,only to realize you can’t. That’s when you realize that you’re not even in bed. In fact, you can see the empty spacious bed right across you.  

You’re sitting upright. A soft gasp escapes you. Memories of the previous night slowly start to flood your mind. 

The call. 

Jungkook.

The video.

Daebi.

Hoseok.

And your little breakdown!

The last thing you can remember is you crying ugly into Jungkook’s oversized t-shirt. His words which didn’t quite reach your ears. His soft kisses on your hair. And his arms that were safely wrapped around your petite figure. The very same arms still wrapped around you.

You’re still in his lap. 

Still in the same position where you sobbed like a grieving widow. Your head pressed against his chest. One of your hands is still clutching the fabric of his t-shirt tightly, curled up like a wounded puppy. Jungkook’s cheek is propped up on your head. And judging by the way his chest heaves ever so gently, you know he is asleep. He has fallen asleep while keeping you on his lap. For the entire night. The realization almost makes you feel bad. Almost though. Because no matter what, he is still your kidnapper and waking up in his arms it doesn’t bring comfort.

Absolutely not!

It sends a chill down your spine. You need to get away from him. It was a moment of weakness that you had the previous night. You were heartbroken. Devastated. It was unbearable pain that you endured. It pained you more than how it pained you the day Hoseok told you that he needs to break up. That he’s in love with someone else. Having your boyfriend cheated on you was another thing. But the woman who he cheated with to be your best friend? That’s a completely new territory of pain. 

Then she helped this lunatic to get you into this situation? The thought alone makes you want to laugh aloud. How crazy is that? How pathetic is your life? 

You ran to Daebi when Hoseok broke up with you. And she had you crying on her shoulder while she was the reason for your tears. She trashed Hoseok like she genuinely despised him with her guts. She got wasted with you on your hardest nights. Only for everything to turn into a lie. One blatant lie. 

It’s humiliating when you think about those moments now. How oblivious you’ve been. Hell, you even ran to her when the AI Jungkook started to scare the shit out of you. AOnce again, you ran to the very person behind it all.

Will there be anything harsher that can happen in your life? You don’t think so. So, of course, you were hysterical last night. And this motherfucker, who thought he had the right to drag your already pitiful, pathetic life even lower- had taken advantage of the situation. You would’ve never allowed him to even lay a finger on you if it wasn’t the pain that numbed you of the other senses. 

You wish you could just storm away from his hold. Scream at him. Let all your pain, anger and frustration out on him. The thing is though, despite everything, he is still the same Jungkook who managed to get you here. The same man who looks at you with a crazed look in his eyes whenever you act stubborn. And unfortunately, you are still the same person you were yesterday. Broken. Weak. Scared. Trapped. You are still afraid of this man. Very. Hence your weak attempt of stretching your body slowly. Trying to pry his arms away without waking him. You just want to get out of his hold. 

It doesn’t work. Just as you try to move an arm, his grip tightens around you. A soft whimper escapes him as he rubs his cheek against your hair. “No..” He breathes. A quick kiss to the top of your head follows that. You freeze. “Five more minutes please…” He adds again. Voice soft and hoarse and his words are nothing but a quiet murmur. There was a time that the same hoarse voice in the morning had made you blush violently. Made you excited. Made your pussy clench around nothing. And you would like nothing more than to say that it doesn’t do anything like that to you anymore. Nothing even closer. Then why are you clutching his shirt like your life depends on it? Then why does your breath catch up in your throat, that way? 

Well, it’s because you are scared. Right? Especially, after what you did yesterday, you have all the reasons to be scared. What if he decided to lock you up in a room? What if he decided to chain you to a wall? What if-

“You hungry?” JungKook brings a hand to push back your hair from your face. Doesn’t take his hand right away. He starts to gently massage your scalp. His voice is still sleepy. His movements are deliberate. “Hm? Pretty?” He questions again in your silence. 

“How?” You don’t answer his question. Instead you throw another one at him. 

“How, what?” He still doesn’t loosen his grip. Not even a little bit. Keeps you pressed against his body. 

“How come you have that v-video?” You manage to get your words out without breaking down. A pang shoots across your chest. You’ll never get over that. No. 

“I just happened to have it.” He answers vaguely, much for your displeasure. Yet you decide not to question further about the matter. You change the course instead. 

“How lon-” This time your voice cracks up. New lump forming in your throat. It pains you. Even the memory of it pains you as if you’re physically bleeding. Even though hours have passed, the pain returns to you fresh. Just like how it was the first time you saw the video. “L-long?” You clutch Jungkook’s t-shirt even tighter, looking for strength from a piece of fabric. “Ho-how long have they-”

“Longer than you think.” JungKook answers you, saving you the misery of having to ask it aloud. “It doesn’t matter, princess. It’s all in the past now. You need to let that go, you know. They don’t deserve you. You deserve much better. They can fuck off.” He finally loosens his grip a little bit. Just enough for him to bring his hand which was in your hair to your chin, and lift your face up. You just let him. He gazes deeply into your eyes. His eyes glowing golden in the morning light. “They aren't worth your time.” Smiles at you softly. 

Easy for him to say. It wasn’t him who had been madly in love with the same person half of his life. It wasn’t him who trusted someone so badly that the very obvious signs have become obscure. You bite into your bottom lip to stop the trembling. To stop the sting in your eyes. You are exhausted. Can’t survive another crying session. 

“Hey, hey!” Jungkook sighs. “Don’t cry please. I swear, I didn’t want to hurt you, baby. But you weren’t trusting me enough to know that I’m not the bad guy. You were thinking that bitch of a friend of yours could do any good to you. I had to make you see things clearly. I’m so sorry that it hurts. But I’ll make it okay, yeah? I’ll make sure you’re okay. Don’t cry now. Hate seeing you cry.” He rests his forehead against you. You hate to be so close to him. You’re tired, however. So, you give up. Just focus on trying not to cry. Focus on pretending that his presence actually calms you down. 

It’s all because you’re heart broken. Once you’re healed, you’ll never feel comfort in him again. Then, you don’t plan on living this life for that long anyway. It’s not like you got much to lose at this rate. And, besides getting out of this luxurious prison, now you have a confrontation to do. You have to meet Daebi and Hoseok. You have to slap Hoseok hard across his face. 

You have to call Daebi a ‘bitch’ to her face. 

…………………

You eye your breakfast wearily. Even the sight of the delicious- looking pancakes makes your stomach churn awfully. You have no appetite at all. Jungkook, however, never was a fan of you skipping meals. He’s annoying. Too freaking annoying. All you want is to fall deeper into the hole of misery. Just sulk. Be alone with the pain. Such a shame that you’re not allowed to make even simple decisions for yourself. 

It’s ridiculous really. Jungkook hasn’t done anything bad. He’s been nothing but kind to you. Caring. Ever so gentle. Loving. Warm. But you’re still afraid. Maybe that fear is deeply rooted somewhere in your brain. With no way of escaping. Maybe it’s because you’ve experienced how much he can change when it’s needed. How he’s turned into a monster when things aren’t going in his way. He might not have done anything bad yet but deep down you know he will, if he wants that. 

So, of course you slightly flinch in your seat when Jungkook suddenly sighs. You know exactly what is coming even before Jungkook opens his mouth. That’s why you instantly dig your fork into the soft pancakes. But then he surprises you with his words. 

“You loved him that much? You loved him so bad that it still hurts you? After all this time? It’s been years, isn’t it?” 

Yes!

That’s the simple and direct answer. You don’t say it aloud, however. See, the fear. Jungkook will not appreciate that answer. 

“Why?” Jungkook asks again. You don’t look at him. Just keep picking at your food. Trying not to think too hard about his question because it’ll surely make you cry again. 

Why? He asks. You can come up with a list. You know you can but you don’t want to. Jungkook grabs the stool next to you. It screeches against the floor, making you flinch. 

“Tell me, baby? What does that motherfucker have that I don’t?” He bends down in an attempt to look at your eyes. You don’t avoid his eyes nor do you look at them. He won’t like the answers if you tell him. For a start, you would like to bring up the fact that Hoseok hadn’t kidnapped you. How he hadn’t created a damn app to traumatise you. But Jungkook won’t like those answers. Besides, it’s not like you’ve hurt completely because of love. No. You are hurt about many things. You loved Hoseok, yes. Maybe you still do. The thing is, though, you’ve come to the conclusion that he’s a cheater a long time ago. And you’ve been loving him less each day ever since. This is not about that. No. This is about trust and betrayal. 

“I don’t love him anymore.” You simply mumble before stuffing your mouth with a forkful of pancakes. Jungkook scoffs. 

“Yes, but you did.”

“People make mistakes. It’s just past.”

“Yeah? Then why are you sulking? Why is my pretty girl’s eyes all bloodshot and why does she look so tired?” 

You put the stupid fork down. It looks like you will have no way of escaping this conversation. “I hate them,” You exhale. Close your eyes. “I hate them and I hate myself. I hate you. I hate how I trusted them ever so easily. I hate that I trusted you. I hate how much of a stupid, pathetic loser I am. I fucking hate my life.” You blurt out before you can even process. Just as the last word leaves your mouth you feel insanely calmed. As if you’ve put down a heavy burden you’ve been carrying around. Just for a minute, however. In the next minute, your face is caught between Jungkook’s rough fingers. He turns your face toward him. That strangely soft and warm look he had in his eyes all this morning has vanished. In its place now is that madness. The look you fear so much. It’s just like the time you told him that he’s sick and he didn’t love you. He’s staring you down just like he did that day. You gulp harshly. A shiver runs down your spine. 

Jungkook brings his face closer to you. Close enough until you can feel the tip of his nose nudging against yours. “You,” he grits. “Can hate them all you want. That is what the bastards deserve. And baby,” he squeezes your cheeks hard. Hard that it hurts you. “You can hate me too. Because like I said, you will learn to love me one day. But,” he pauses for a moment. “Don’t ever fucking say you hate yourself. You hear me?” Questions. “Do you?” Shakes your head. “Do not ever fucking talk bad about you.” 

All you can do is stare back at him. Wanting badly to glare. Wanting badly to scream. He controls everything in your life. From what you eat to what you wear. Now he wants to control your thoughts as well? You’re already physically trapped. He wants you to be mentally trapped as well? 

“I can do whatever I want.” You spit back. God, you wanted to sound as how you feel. Angry. Spiteful. Powerful. But the way you say it is completely the opposite. You sound weaker than ever. Instead of a statement it sounds like a question. And all that it does is make your eyes well up. How helpless you are. 

“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “No you can’t, Pretty. Because, guess what? You are fucking mine and I don’t like when people talk bad about what’s mine. Even you yourself.” He lets go of your face. Just to pick up the fork. You stay motionless as he takes a piece of pancake in it and brings it to your mouth. “Now just eat like a good girl.” 

You turn your gaze away. Oh, the way you want to throw a tantrum. The way you want to stand up for yourself. “I’m not hungry.” You use your palms to wipe away the unshed tears from your eyes. Jungkook exhales in frustration.

“If you want revenge, I can make that happen, you know. I can avenge you.” He drops the fork without any further fuss, which surprises you. Yet again. But that’s not what makes you snap your head toward him back. He’s controlling everything. And you’re too weak to change that. But… But this is something you’ll never want. You don’t know if you want revenge. Maybe. Maybe not. All you know is that you want a chance for a confrontation. You want to scream at Hoseok. Then above everything, you want Jungkook to stay away. He won’t rob you of your chance for salvation. 

“No!” You gasp. “No Jungkook,” Finally, you manage to glare at him. “I’ll never forgive you if you lay a finger on one of them. I’ll hate you to my grave and I promise you, you’ll never see the day I’ll become yours.” You don’t say the part where you’ll never be his either way. Following your words a heavy silence falls. A deafening silence. Just the gentle sound of the heater filling the air. And Jungkook’s glare. 

You expect him to get mad. Expect him to threaten you with something bad. Yet it seems, this day is full of surprises. He does nothing sort of that. Simply gets to his feet. Waste no time as he rounds the kitchen island and walks past you toward the doorway. Almost leaves you to be. That’s when you suddenly burst out another question. Or a request. You don’t know where it came from. 

“I just want to meet them.” Your voice makes Jungkook halts in his track. A soft yet bitter chuckle escapes him. 

“Not a fucking chance.” He informs you before leaving this time for real. 

Of course. Who were you kidding?

………………….

You haven’t seen Jungkook all day. Mainly because you've been holed up inside your (his) room. Just after your little but not- so- civil chat in the morning, you stormed into your room. Have spent the entire day in bed. Just like you wanted. Morphing. Sulking. Reminiscing. Going through your memories, looking for signs and clues that you must’ve missed. Completely drowning in your misery. 

And Jungkook hasn’t even poked his head in. Not even once, which is very unlike him. He never does that. Never allows you to be alone for more than five minutes unless it’s really necessary. Like when you are in the bathroom or he is.  He would always breathe down your neck. Not giving you any chances to try anything funny. Or he just wants to be around you. Even though you don’t talk to him let alone entertain him. 

Then there is the fact that he hasn’t been worried about your meals today. Sometimes, he acts like your father. Always making sure you eat well. Not today. You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday and there is no Jungkook to nag you about it. 

You find that awfully weird. Odd. Even your insides churn. It’s nearing midnight now and the entire apartment is in eerie silence. You sit back on Jungkook’s bed, letting the dark grey silk sheets fall across your body. 

When you first realized that Jungkook wasn't going to come and bother you, you were happy. Grateful. It was exactly what you wanted — a moment alone. You expected you’d feel better. At peace. Because you hate Jungkook’s ever- looming presence. This was the day you’ve been dreaming about ever since you woke up in this apartment next to Jungkook. The thing is, however, you feel neither. You feel worse to be honest. Feel anxious. So fucking restless. If you're being honest with yourself, all this time, you’ve been waiting for Jungkook to barge inside the room. You were expecting him. When he didn’t it had put you on edge. Now you can no longer just sit back and wait. 

You remove the sheets as you place your trembling feet on the warm carpeted floor. This is truly maddening. How Jungkook is affecting you, even when he is not around. You don’t like this silence. It’s unsettling. You don’t want Jungkook, but at the same time you want him. At least you’ll know he’s not planning to kill you or something when you have eyes on him. Right? That’s why you feel like you’re losing your mind. That’s the only reason you step out of the room and walk toward the living room in silence. That’s exactly why a breath of relief escapes your lips when you spot the said man sprawled on the couch. 

The TV is on. Muted. Luminous colors of the screen are flashing across Jungkook’s face. His eyes are deeply fixed on the screen. You can only see the side of his face. Chiseled jaw. Prominent nose. Glinting eyes. Pink pretty lips. His lip ring glistens in various colors. His hair has turned purple since the person on the screen is standing in a purple background. He is ethereal, isn’t he? Simply not human. Can’t be human. Oh, you hate him. Hate how good looking he is. 

Jungkook turns his head slowly, obviously sensing your presence. Or he must’ve heard you approaching. His eyes meet yours. They are still not soft. Still angry. Still stiff. You stay that way for a long minute. Then you turn around. Fast. Making a beeline for the kitchen. 

……………………….

Despite feeling very anxious and restless without  your captor around, the other major reason that forced you out of the comfy bed sheets was hunger. It doesn’t matter how stubborn, rebellious, and alone you want to be, in the end, you’re just a human who needs fuel to function. An entire day without food isn’t serving you well. Your stomach is grumbling. And you feel weak. 

You scan your eyes around the now familiar kitchen. Clean and tidy. Spotless. Jungkook is the tidiest person you’ve ever seen. Yet today it seems like no one has used the kitchen at all. It’s funny how you’ve never cooked anything in this kitchen. It was always Jungkook who cooked for you. Now, after all this time, it feels ridiculous to even think about making your own food. Besides, it's not as if you want to cook in this place anyway. It makes it oddly homey. When you start to cook in a place it means you are going to stay there for a long time. Not just a couple days like at a hotel. But in a place where you’d come back every evening. No. You don’t want that at all. You’ll never get used to living in this prison. 

Your body, however, doesn’t care what you want or not. Another growl erupts from your tummy. It’s getting unbearable. Like you are starting to eat yourself from the inside out. Maybe you can eat cup noodles. That’s not similar to cooking, right? All you have to do is boil some water. You give yourself a tiny nod before turning toward the pantry where you know noodles are. 

“Are you hungry?” 

A loud scream leaves your throat as you turn back at light speed. Almost lose your balance at how startled you are. Jungkook just stands in the doorway, completely unphased at the fact that you lost your shit because of him. You clutch your chest with both your hands, scowling at the man in front of you. He and his damn sleazy movements. 

“Want me to order something?” Instead of any apology for startling you, Jungkook fishes out his phone. “What do you want?” Asks again when he has the device on his hand. You take a minute, gaping at his face. Even the sound of that makes your mouth salivate. Yet you shake your head. You don’t want to look even weaker in his eyes. Someone who’s incapable of anything. How shameful that you have to seek him for every little thing. 

“I’m not hung-” You start to refuse his offer just to get cut off when he suddenly closes the distance between you. Two long strides and your feet are touching. 

“For fucks sake, (___), don’t fucking make me the bad guy.” He barks. “Don’t make me force things on you. I,” He pauses for a long breath. When he speaks next his voice drops an octave lower. “Really hate it when you’re freaking stupid to see things clearly. And I’ll hate it even more if I have to fucking knock some sense into you.” His eyes bore into yours without even blinking. You feel your heart skip a beat before starting to go mad. Even your stomach churns awfully. You wouldn’t have been able to hide the shaky breath you let out even if you tried to. Fear rises up in your throat in the form of bile, even when you haven’t had anything in your system. “Don’t make me do things that both of us will regret.” Jungkook adds lastly. Doesn’t step away from you. Just keeps his ground, clearly expecting you to answer. You don’t know what the answer he’s looking for. Yet you answer with another question. Your voice is quiet and meek.

“What are you going to do Jungkook? Hit me? Kill me?” You bite back the tremble in your voice with much struggle. Jungkook looks at you for a second like he’s surprised, then he shakes his head. 

“You? Never. But I can certainly make everyone else in this world suffer. You don’t even have a single idea about what I'll do for you baby. Even for simple things. You refuse to eat? Lemme just make you want to eat.” He finally steps back. Scrolls through his phone and then turns it around to show you the screen. A picture. Photo. Of someone who’s dearly familiar to you. Hair dyed in silver and an earring on one ear. Smiling to someone hidden from the camera. 

Park Jimin!

You gasp aloud. That picture looks new. Last time you saw him, he had black hair. Park Jimin is someone who’d dye his hair a new color every month but you haven’t seen him with silver hair before. You know it’s a new picture. 

Did Jungkook take it?

Does he know Jimin as well?

Did someone else take the picture and send it to Jungkook?

Why is he showing you this now? Is he threatening you? 

Your eyes dart between the screen and Jungkook’s face. Jungkook smiles softly. “You won’t want me to just make any of your loved ones hurt now, will you?” He locks the device. You watch as your friend’s image disappears. “Because, I will, pretty. I fucking will.” He pockets the device back again. You feel nauseous. There’s a sickening joy in Jungkook’s voice. 

“Y-you- you wouldn’t.” You stare at him. That smile on his lips never even falters. 

“Oh, but I will.”

“I told you, if-if you ever lay a finger on anyoneー”

“Do you think I’d just listen to you threaten me? Pretty…” Jungkook clicks his tongue in displeasure. “You are already here, aren’t you? You are already mine. You might not want to acknowledge it yet but you. Are. mine. And I know you’ll come to admit it sooner or later andー” He taps the pocket where he just put his phone. “Meanwhile, we can play it easy or hard.”

“But why- why Jimin? He never did anything wrong to you.” You hastily take a step forward. To be honest, you have no idea of what this man is capable of doing. Not all of it at least. He kidnapped you, yes. He’s sick in the head, yes. But that might not be all he has. He can be even more ruthless. He can be capable of murder even. You need to make sure that isn’t the case. 

“But he did.” Jungkook smirks. “He fucking did. If I have to make him suffer, I have all the reasons to do so. Just because I haven’t done anything, that doesn’t mean I can’t, baby. The only reason why I haven’t done anything to anyone, yet,” He brings a hand up. Grabs a loose strand of your hair between his fingers. Plays with it. “is because you are too precious to me. I mean it when I said I don’t want to hurt you, Pretty. But don’t test my patience too much.” His eyes go from that stiffness to softer like a flicker of a switch. So does his daunting smirk. Instead, he smiles at you gently again as he pushes that strand of hair behind your ear. Gently. His fingers grazing over your ear and face ever so lightly. Then he drags those fingers over the side of your neck. And a shiver runs down your spine electrocuting your whole body. You tremble visibly, your breath tangling in your throat. 

It’s fear, right? It’s just fear. 

“Now, you're a big girl. It’s ridiculous that I have to threaten to take away your toys to make you eat.” Jungkook takes his hand back. Just as his touch disappears you feel insanely cold. Hollow. A longing stirs your insides. 

It’s just the fear. You’re awfully scared of him. That’s it. 

He just threatened you with your friends’ life after all. You don’t know what Jimin ever did to Jungkook. Jungkook sure does hate Hoseok because he is your ex. Then you know Jungkook hates him because he hurt you as well. Just like he hates Daebi despite her role in getting you in his hold. Then maybe… Could it be the same reason he hates Jimin? Can it be that Jimin knew too. He knew about Daebi and Hoseok. What if he knew about your kidnapping as well? What about Nina? Did they all know about what was going to happen to you and turn a blind eye?

You feel your heart clenches painfully at the thought. There’s a huge chance that it might be the case. Yet still, you don’t think any of their misery would bring you any satisfaction. No. Revenge is a strange word for you. All you want is a chance for a confrontation, which you know you might not have. Unless you work for it, of course. And after everything, you want all of them to be in a position where you can talk to them. So, you fear Jungkook without a doubt. Yes. This is all about that. 

“I’m ordering Samgyeopsal.” Jungkook informs you, voice sharp. 

You just nod. 

…………………..

The midnight dinner had passed in utter silence where you watched a crappy late-night reality show. It was a very uncomfortable hour where you sat idly next to Jungkook, your mind screaming with  unasked questions. You wanted to know. Wanted to ask. How did he know Jimin? Was it just like you thought? How did he know Daebi? When did they meet? Lots and lots of things. In the end, however, you asked nothing. Simply because you feared the answers. And after that hour, you decided it was enough. That it was time to crawl inside your room back again.

See now, while you spent an entire day starving yourself, you at least hoped to come up with a plan. A plan that is meticulous enough to free you from this shithole. But you managed nothing close to that. All you did was cry, being depressed, then anxious. Now, just as you close the door behind you and stand in the darkness, you know you’re about to do the same thing all over again. This time, however, you feel it ten times harder. New suspicions about your other friends’ participation in your misery has made it worse. 

The lonely feeling freezes you to your marrow. The pain splits your heart in two. The restless feeling makes it hard for you to breathe. It all hits you like a freight train.

Oh, you shouldn’t have been this quick to return here. Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt an extra hour watching that crap show. 

Fuck, it’s hard.

You actually can’t breathe. 

You turn around to stare at the closed door. The room is in pitch darkness since you’ve not bothered to switch on the lights and the curtains are drawn. Still you can see the outlines of the closed barrier that isolates you in this room. You close your eyes for a second, letting the pain engulf you whole again. 

Memories. 

Memories of shared laughter and tears. 

Moments spent together. 

Drunken nights and awful jokes. 

Friends. Lovers. Betrayal!

A tangled sob leaves your throat. You reopen your eyes, allowing tears to roll down your cheeks. The cruel reality of how alone and helpless you are once again registering in your mind. If what you think was true, if Jimin and Nina knew this from the beginning, then you’ve been alone all your life. No one has been on your side. Ever. You are all you have. No one has ever cared or will care about you. You bet that they’ve already forgotten about you. They probably have. You will never have someone to wipe down your tears when you cry. Offer you a shoulder to rest your head when you’re tired. You have no one. No one… 

Except….

You don’t even wait a second to think what you’re doing or to consider the consequences. Simply can’t afford one more minute of this loneliness. Of this pain. You yank open the door and run out. Tears streaming down without a break. Heart violently pounding against your ribcage. Your hurried footsteps muffled against the marble floor. 

No one has been on your side ever. You have no one to turn to. Except this one man, who’ll hold you tight when you cry. And all you want is that. Someone to tell you that it’s going to be okay. That nothing was your fault and they are there for you. You don’t care for the fact that the man you’re running into is another one who caused your demise. It’s fine. You just need comfort. A bandage to cover your wound. It’s fine that it’s not a permanent solution and you’ll regret ever doing this in the morning. You’ll worry about that later. For now, you need someone to be on your side. 

So, you don’t stop until you barge into the living room again. You don’t stop until you’re met with the man you were looking for. Just about to leave the room himself. You only give him time to just turn around when you stand in front of him. Jungkook’s innocent- looking, doe eyes, which don’t suit a person like him, go wide at your unexpected sight. You disregard his surprise. Instead you wipe your tears away with both your palms. Drop your hands down. You have no idea what you wanted from him or from just barging in here. 

“I- just- ca-can you- uh-” Hence your pathetic stuttering. Your hands clenched around your cozy shorts to gain a strength that you didn’t know you needed. But for your luck or not, you don’t have to elaborate any further. Jungkook’s eyes soften as you watch. A kind of hurt flashing across them before he closes the distance between you in a flash. And you find yourself crushed between his strong arms. One arm wraps around your waist, the other cradles the back of your head.

“Of course I will, Pretty. Of course I will…”

…………………

Whatever you expected when you ran to Jungkook, it certainly wasn’t this. Sharing the bed? Maybe. You fell asleep on his lap last night for the sake of fuck. Maybe you wanted to have someone to lie next to you, filling the empty side of the bed. But this isn’t just sharing a bed. The way one of his arms is curled under your head isn’t just sharing a bed. The way his other hand is thrown across your waist and holding your hand isn’t just sharing a bed. Nor is the firm press of your back against his broad chest or the tingling sensation of his breath against your neck. 

But the problematic part of this situation isn’t just how he’s holding you close. The problem is that you're not completely opposed to it. You’re enjoying it to be honest. You blame it on the emptiness inside you. On the craving for a caring presence. Not an AI this time but a real person because the way Jungkook’s heart is beating is real. How his chest is heaving when he breathes is real. How his thumb is gently rubbing your palm is real. That’s the reason for you to like this. 

Then why does your heart pound in your poor ribcage? 

Why does your breath hitch with every rub of his thumb against your palm?

Why does your whole arm feel numb—in a good way? 

Above everything else, why do you want him to keep doing it? No. That’s not the case after all. You want him to just do something more. 

You close your eyes for the hundredth time, hoping you would actually be able to fall asleep this time. To act like your stomach isn’t doing weird turns. You fail. Miserably so. All you manage is a blink before you reopen your eyes when Jungkook pushes you back more into his body. His thumb keeps rubbing your palm. 

It feels good. So damn good that even a moan nearly slips through your lips. You have to bite your bottom lip so hard not to let that happen. You can’t risk it now. Can’t let him know that he’s affecting you. Because you don’t want to get affected. No. You can’t. You are not feeling a fire travelling across your veins. Starting from the spot where he’s touching you. He’s touching your palm for God’s sake and you’re doing your best not to moan? 

What is fucking wrong with you? 

Jungkook sighs dreamily behind you, pressing his body more and more into you. He changes the pattern he is rubbing your palm. Instead of circles, he starts to rub back and forth, making you squeeze your thighs desperately. 

No. No. No….

This can’t be happening. You are most definitely not getting wet. Not because of this psychopath. Not because of a simple touch. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping, Pretty?” Jungkook suddenly questions. His voice is raspy and thick. Even his voice sends a tingle between your legs. 

What the actual fuck?

“Not sleepy.” You answer him with your own hushed voice. Or is it hoarse too? Thick? 

“Why not? It’s late.” Jungkook raises his head a bit. As if he wants a look at your face. His thumb is still playing with your palm. “This doesn’t help?” He questions as he lifts your hand up. “I’m trying to help you relax.” Explains though you don’t ask. Well, you don’t know ‘relax’ is the right word to use in this context. Jungkook doesn’t let you question it. He lifts your hand up and up then back, behind you and over your shoulder. “Gentle touches help people relax, you know,” He keeps explaining while you wait with bated breath. Clueless but also excited about what he is doing. Then you feel the cold touch of his nose nudging against your palm. “Doesn’t it work for you?” Gently questions. That’s all he does before his nose replaces his lips. He kisses your palm softly. Hesitantly. Carefully. As if you’d break if he presses a little hard. 

He waits for a minute while keeping his lips on your palm. Then when he gets no reluctance from your frozen body, he does it again. Another kiss follows. Once then twice. Three times and four times. Slowly. Sensually. His lips brush over your palm like a feather. And you shiver. Eyes fluttering close at the heavenly feeling. 

“Huh, Pretty? It doesn’t help?” Jungkook repeats his earlier question in between his soft kisses. You don’t know how to answer that. So you keep quiet, letting Jungkook kiss your hand. Over and over. And with every kiss it turns a bit tender. His lips linger on your palm a little more than before. As if he’s losing his mind and getting caught in the moment. As if he doesn’t know what he’s doing. “Damn it! Why’s your hands so soft?” A soft groan accompanies his words. Words that go straight to your lower belly, igniting a fire there. 

And you fail to keep your reactions neutral. A heavy, shaky sigh escapes you even without your knowledge. Jungkook takes that as a good sign. His kisses grow more deliberate.But what truly breaks you is when you feel the tip of his tongue grazing over your hand. Gently and lightly. Circling across your skin, just like how he did with his thumb. 

“Jungkook…” You mumble which comes out as a desperate moan. You swear that you don’t intend to do that. Jungkook, however, groans. Applies more pressure into his action. His other hand curls even more under your neck, dragging you insanely closer to him. Practically starts to make out with your palm, shifting between open mouthed kisses and licks. You feel your whole body go weak. Blood pumping across your veins extra fast. “Y-you- you can’t.” You weakly whimper once again, half turning toward him despite your words. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook relents. Pushes your hand away from his mouth. You find it amazing how he’s breathless. Cold air replaces the warmth where his tongue had just been, making you already miss the warmth, the tingling sensation. “Then ask me to stop.” He pants. Gives you time to do as he says. 

And isn’t that easy? Just ask him to stop. You know that he’d listen. 

Ask him to stop. 

All you do is whimper. 

You can’t let this happen. 

You press your palm into his mouth. 

Fuck, you need to stop. 

“Oh, Jungkook….” You finally moan aloud at the same time he kisses your palm again. 

“You don’t want me to stop, Pretty?” Jungkook shifts his attention from your palm to your fingers. Wraps his lips around your thumb and starts suckling gently, almost making you cry. “Answer me, baby. You don’t want me to stop? Want me to keep going?” Even during your filthiest sex calls, Jungkook’s voice hadn’t sounded this thick with lust. It gets your head spinning. Rest of the world and everything else disappears from your mind. 

You don’t know how you responded to him. If you said yes or just nodded. But in the next moment you find your back pressed against his chest once again. This time, however, instead of just keeping you close, Jungkook is rocking his hips against your plump ass. You can unmistakably feel the hardness that is being ground against your flesh, creating an insatiable desire inside you. 

All you can manage to do is whimper. Stay still and let him grind against you. His cock rubbing against your ass firmly with every thrust of his hips. He stopped playing with your hands sometime ago, for much of your dismay. Not that you can complain about the change, however. This is better. Even though you know it shouldn’t feel great, you’re slowly slipping into a blissful numbness. 

You would blame this on not having any actions in your life lately. True that with Jungkook- when you thought he was a mere AI- you brought yourself into mind shattering orgasms more than one time. That somehow doesn’t match the sensation you’re feeling now. That fire was nowhere near the wildfire rapidly spreading through your nerves right now. 

Well, if Jungkook managed to make you cum hard just by his voice, why would you be surprised of him being able to get you drooling just with his cock grazing over your ass. 

Of course, he knows what he’s doing. One hand splayed across your waist to keep you in place. Face hidden in your neck. Lips occasionally touching your skin. His soft grunts a beautiful melody in your ear. His hard cock a sin in your body.

This is wrong.

But you need more.

Otherwise you’ll explode from the pressure inside your tummy. You’ll die from neediness. It’s crazy how desperately your pussy has been clenching over nothing. Embarrassing how much you’ve soaked your panties. 

“Jungkook…” You moan out his name once again. Jungkook doesn’t stop his firm grinding as he answers you.

“Yes, pretty?” He plants a kiss under your ear. “What is it?” Asks through clenched teeth.

You don’t know how to ask him what you want. It’s humiliating. You swore you hate him, didn’t you? You swore you will never be his. Technically, this is nothing like that. Just because you’re horny, it doesn’t mean you’ve entered a truce with this guy. Still you feel like crawling into a little hole at the prospect of being this needy for him. Being at the peak of begging for more. 

“What do you want, baby?” Jungkook questions again. You don’t answer. Still not knowing how to phrase your words. Jungkook doesn’t have much patience, though. “Nothing?” He slows down his movements, making you nearly panic. You don’t want him to stop. No. “If you don’t ask, I can’t give it to you.” He stops rocking his hips against you altogether. “Do you want to go to sleep—”

“No!” This time you actually panic, turning your head around to look at him at light speed. “No, no, please..” Words leave your mouth before you can process it. Jungkook raises head again to take a proper look at you. 

“No?” He arches a brow. You freeze, suddenly realizing that you had said that. But it’s out anyway and you really don’t want him to stop. It’s too late for that now. “Then what do you need, pretty? Use your words, huh?” As if to give you what you’d miss, he presses his hardness a little more into your ass. Or it is to show you how hard he is. Either way it forces the words out of your mouth that he, oh so badly needs. 

“Y-you..” You manage breathlessly. 

“Me?” Jungkook tilts his head. “You have me here, don’t you, pretty?” You nearly cry in frustration. 

Why would he want to make you say it aloud?

“W-want you to to-touch me.” You stutter around again, growing impatient and more needy with every passing second. It’s funny how the day has turned into this. Haven’t you hated him with a passion until now? Well, you still hate him. Maybe even more because he has this much influence on you. To make you say things that you don’t want to say that easily. Of course, you hate him. But that hate drowns in a lake of desire. Deeper and deeper. Disappears somewhere in the murky depths as soon as Jungkook suddenly grabs one of your boobs, making you gasp aloud. 

“Yeah? Like this?” He makes sure with his hand already starting to mold the soft flesh beneath his palms. You shudder, eyes fluttering close. You answer him in a gentle hum and for your pleasure Jungkook takes that as enough an answer. Just for a minute, however. Then in the next, he is questioning you again. “Is that all you need baby? Just this? Want me to touch your tits?” He begins his slow grinding back, massaging your breast with just the right pressure. 

You’re almost drooling. Just with this. His hands and his cock grazing over your body through all the clothing. Pathetic. But you can’t care. Too horny for your own good. You would hate yourself at the way you shake your head. Not Jungkook though. The guy loves it judging by the way he kisses your cheek with appreciation.

“No? You need more? What do you need, pretty?” 

You’re pushing back on his cock, not knowing exactly what’s happening. It sure feels like a dream when this time you open your mouth without much persuasion.

“To-touch me pro-properly… please… god, Jungkook…” You complete the rest of your sentence with pulling your t-shirt up. Initiating what you want. 

And Jungkook laughs. Fucking laughs!

Rich sound of his laughter vibrates across your body. It’s sinister. Cruel. Taunting. He’s letting you know how pathetic you’re being and how it amuses him. You should feel embarrassed. Ashamed. And you do. Of course, you do. Your face reddened at the sound. A strong urge to hide your face somewhere getting to you. But with shame, you get that familiar stirring on your lower stomach. 

Desire. Burn. 

Burn for Jeon Jungkook. 

Jungkook knows how to play you. He had played you even before he got to lay a single finger on you. He played you like you were a guitar. And now he’s slowly dragging you into that same headspace. 

Making you his little play thing. 

Someone who’s completely lost their senses.

“Pathetic, princess. So fucking pathetic. You have no shame!” Jungkook grunts before giving into what you asked him to do. His hand snakes under your t-shirt, finding your bare breasts. “See? Have no shame at all. You came to bed with me, without wearing a bra?” Mocks. His voice is contemptuous. He instantly starts to mould, his thumb flicking over your nippels occasionally. Pays equal attention to both of your tits. Pinches your perky pebbles. “Such a slut!”

In your defense, you didn’t expect this to happen. You expected to go to sleep alone. It’s not fair to assume that. But who would care? Certainly not you because every demeaning word of him is making your body shudder. Your pussy aches. Your empty hole clenches around nothing. And all you want is that emptiness to go. Want that to change. Desperately want to be filled. Especially, since Jungkook is back to grinding. 

“Oh, god… Oh, fuck!” You moan aloud, throwing all the remaining sanity and care into the wind. 

“Yeah? Does this feel good, pretty?”

You nod violently. 

“How good? Are you dripping already? Are you making a mess for me?” 

You nod again, followed by another needy moan. Jungkook curses before he stops playing with your tits. You try to protest which just dies in your throat when he drags his hand down through your stomach. Down and down, and stops just below your waistband. 

You wait patiently with a bated breath. Completely still despite your heavy breathing. It feels like your skin is burning where his fingers are drawing lewd patterns. But he doesn’t take it further. No matter how long you wait, the next step doesn’t come. Not even when you start to whimper. So, you decide you have no other option but to become even lower. 

“Oh, please… Jungkook…” You beg, all the while spreading your legs as much as you can. 

“Holy fuck!... You want me to touch you? Want me to touch your filthy cunt?” Jungkook squeezes you in his hold, finally starting to lose it. 

“Yes, p-pl-please, yes. Touch me.”

“Touch you where?”

“M-my… fuck.. Jungkook please…” You trail off, burning with shame. How degrading it is to say that. You feel like words are turning into dust in your mouth. Jungkook, though, isn't letting you off the hook that easily. 

“Touch you where you filthy whore?” He barks, practically crushing you into his body. You inhale a sharp breath in a fruitless attempt to find the courage. Despite everything, despite the shame, you want him to touch you. 

“M-my c-cunt…” You manage to push the bitter words out of your mouth, pleasing Jungkook immensely that he doesn’t even waste a second. His hands go inside your cozy shorts within a beat of a heart. He cups your pussy without further ado. Then his middle finger is sliding along your slit, poking at your entrance and gathering up the wetness. It all happens so fast. The next thing you know is he’s relentlessly rubbing your clit. Occasionally shifts between slightly pressing at your hole. His hard cock still scouring against your ass. And you’re dangerously nearing that peak. Every flick against your clit makes your head spin. 

Only if Jungkook allows it, though. He doesn’t. Each time you start to tense he slows down. Changes his rhythm. Then stops altogether, just to start the same thing all over again. Gets you literally drooling. Leaving only him and pleasure in your mind. Nothing else. Absolutely nothing that you don’t even realize when you start to cry for his cock. 

“Please, please, please…”

“God damn it, pretty.. You need my cock?”

“Yes, yes, yes… Want you… please…”

“But I thought you didn’t want me to even touch you?”

“Bu-but I wa-want you to… n-now.”

Another laugh. “Do you even know how miserable you sound?” Jungkook pinches your clit, making your thighs shake. “But it’s okay baby, you’re being such a good girl for me. Maybe, you deserve my cock.” He rasps in your ear. You almost fall into a false allusion that he’s finally going to give it to you when he pushes the next words out. “But I’m sure, you said you hate me. You said you never will be mine. You fucking flinched away when I was just trying to touch your hand. Now you want my cock?” Flickering of his finger over your clit comes to an abrupt stop. Before you can even comprehend it, he pulls his hand out of your pants. “I don’t think you truly want it.”

It’s ridiculous the way you panicked. Undignified, how you grab his hand, not letting him take it away. 

“No, no, please, no, Jungkook. I want you.. I promise.. I really need you.” Mortifying, when you open your mouth. 

“You need me? Yeah?” Jungkook leans into you again, closing the short distance he created. Mumbles in your ear. “Then prove it, princess. Beg!” 

This time it doesn’t take much more persuading or convincing for you to actually do it. Words start to flow out of your mouth like a broken damn. Even out of your control. Yet, no matter how much you plead and beg, all he gives you is more teasing. His hand back inside your pants and melting your brain and soaking your thighs. And just as he edges you for what must be the hundredth time you snap, falling into the lowest you can go. 

“Oh, god pl-please.. Something… Gi-give me something Kook. At least the tip. I need just so-something…” 

And with that you break Jungkook as well. 

“Holy fuck! You little slut!” He curses aloud. But he finally relents. You don’t even get to comprehend what’s happening before he is yanking your pants down and doing the same to his as well. All you can do is inhale a shaky breath before you feel the tip of his hardened cock at your sloppy entrance. 

Finally! Fucking finally!

You almost sigh in relief when he pushes inside you. Slowly. Agonizingly so. An inch by pleasurable inch he stretches your entrance. You moan lowly at the pleasure, waiting for him to keep going and bury himself deep inside you. Only for that to never come. He stops yet again. You turn your head around, catching his face properly for the first time this night. And the sight that treats you is nothing less than you expected. 

Divine. 

Godly. 

Sin. 

His entire face is flushed and eyes all pupils. Brows pulled together and eyes closed shut. Bottom lip trapped between his teeth. 

He is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Jeon Jungkook is impractical. Unreal. Maybe he is an illusion. Just as the thought crosses your head he opens his eyes, catching your gaze. And you clench around his tip tightly, completely unconsciously, eliciting a beautiful moan from his throat. He rewards you with a shallow thrust. Then another. Just with only his tip inside you and driving you crazy. You question him with your confused expression. Luckily for you he reads it. 

“Why baby? You asked just for the tip… I’m only giving you what you asked for.” He smirks through his haze. 

A whimper of frustration tangles in your throat. Yet you clench around him even harder. Every demeaning word from him is fueling your fire. That’s exactly what makes you clutch onto his hand tightly before pushing back on his half sheathed cock inside you. Changing the fact from half sheathed to fully sheathed. He slides inside you swiftly. Just one push and he’s safely buried inside you, knocking the wind out of your lungs. 

You both stilled, reveling in the feeling. Just for a moment, however. Next moment, Jungkook is gripping your face, roughly, fingers digging into your cheeks painfully. He turns your face around and leans forward until the tips of your noses touch. 

“You need to learn how to listen and be fucking patient, baby. You don’t want to be a good girl? You want to act like a needy slut? Can’t wait to get this pussy ruined?” He presses a barely there, feathery kiss to your lips. Stark contrasts the way he’s touching you and his filthy words. “Okay then, I’ll give that to you. I’ll fuck you until you beg me to stop.” He drawls. That’s the only warning you get before he drags his hips back and rams into you, making you scream his name. He does it again, again, and again. Lets your face go so he can hold your leg up. And as if you’ve not humiliated and embarrassed yourself enough, all it takes is just a few hard thrusts for your prolonged orgasm to crash over you. 

“God, fuck yes, sult! Ah fuck, squeeze my cock…” Jungkook hides his face in your neck, inhaling your scent , getting drunk on you. “Fuck, pretty you feel even better than I imagined.” Growls as his hips keep thrusting forward without a mercy. Not even slowing down to let you catch your lost breath. “You have—” He gasps in between his harsh thrusts. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to have you, pretty…” His teeth sink into the sensitive skin of your neck, arousing you more and more. “I dreamt of this fucking day… you have no fucking idea how much this means to me…” He drags his hand across your body, from your breasts to your stomach. “God damn it, princess…. You know what? I need more… c’mon, on your back—” He withdraws from you fast, making you flinch at the sensitivity. “And I need you naked.” 

He doesn’t give you much time to comply with his commands. As soon as he pulls his cock out, he’s pushing you into your back. Even before you can register the movement your remaining clothes are practically ripped away from your body, his clothes following closely.

See now, Jungkook has ridden you into your lowest level already. Has made you say things you wouldn't have said in any other occasions. Had made you beg and plead. But now, as you are laid beneath him, looking at him with your glossy eyes, squirming and impatient, legs already spread without anybody forcing you to do so, it feels worse. It’s one thing if he’s forcing this on you. Leaving you without any options. But to be the one who’s asking for it. 

It makes your stomach churn. But the case is, even that doesn’t stop you from humping the air waiting for him to get back inside you. 

What’s wrong with you!

It’s all Jungkook’s fault. 

You hate him. You hate everything about him. You swear you do. Still, you exhale softly as your hands move across his chiseled abs and chest the moment he gets rid of his t-shirt. Still, you curl your hands around his neck and press your lips to his, turning it into a messy kiss of tongue and saliva without an ounce of hesitance. Still, you keep him as close to you as possible when he pushes inside you again with a powerful, breathtaking thrust. Still, you beg him for more when he starts picking up his pace again. 

“H-harder please…”

“More Jungkook…”

“Please don’t stop… keep going…” 

You keep screaming. 

“I won’t baby. I’ll not fucking stop. Take this cock, yeah? Like that… yes… fuck!” 

He keeps promising. 

And he keeps his promise. He doesn’t stop. He fucks orgrasm out of orgasm from you. 

He makes love to you while hovering over your shaking figure, kissing and biting your lips, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear. 

He fucks you while holding your writsts above your head and scattering purple marks across your chest and neck. 

He worships you by kissing every inch of skin he can reach. 

So does he pound you with your legs pushed over his shoulders. 

You have no idea how much time has passed or how many times you actually came. Only thing you’re aware of is the pleasure and Jungkook as now he’s slams into you from behind. Your head pressed into the pillow. He’s clutching both of your hands behind you, taking extra leverage. And all you can do is drool all over you and bite onto the soft pillow. You’re getting tired now. But despite all that, you want Jungkook to cum as well. 

That shouldn’t be your concern at all. At least you can turn this whole thing about you. You are receiving pleasure. You are using him. Not the other way around. That’s not what’s happening, however. You’re battling your sensitivity, and exhaustion because you want him to cum. Judging by the way his thrusts are turning sloppy and his ragged breaths you know that’s about to happen. Even the thought is making your tummy clench. Despite how wearried out you are, you feel like about to reach another orgasm, just at the thought. 

Then just as the thought passes, Jungkook’s voice breaks your stupor. 

“Gonna cum, pretty. Gonna cum inside you, yeah? Fucking make you mine…”

You think you just die at the spot. It’s not possible to feel more aroused. But you do. Even a cry leaves your parched throat. 

“Please… yes…” You try in vain to turn your head and look at his divine face but he steals your moment when his hand leaves yours just to grab your hair. You let out a surprised squeal when you’re being yanked back. Your back collides with his chest. His hand immediately snakes around your throat. Squeezes. Not enough to hurt you but enough to cut your air flow.

“You want that, pretty? Want me to cum inside you?” Jungkook growls, his thrusts turning sloppy and sloppier. 

You nod, feeling your head getting dizzy. It’s his hold on your neck that's keeping you upright. Your legs are buckling under your weight. 

“Say it aloud, princess. Say you want me to cum inside you. Fucking beg for my cum.” Jungkook presses his fingers around your throat a little more, like an unspoken threat. 

“P-please c-cum inside me… Pl-please…”

“Again.”

“Oh god, please… pl-please… fill me up, Jungkook. W-ant your cum. I need your cum…” You choke out, struggling to breathe. 

“Again, whore. Beg like you really want it. That’s notー” A powerful, harsh thrust. And his grip tightens a little more. “Enough.”

“Please… Jungkook… Want to be so full of your cum. I- Iー” Fortunately for you, those next words do the trick. Just as the words leave your mouth Jungkook stills, his cock twitching inside you. You feel the warmth engulf your insides. Thick ropes of cum painting your walls and putting you into a delirious state. His grip on your throat loosens. 

You stay that way, pressed into each other for another long second before Jungkook lowers both of you into the mattress. A deep sigh of satisfaction which lets out by you mixes into the heavy breathing of Jungkook. 

You feel light. As if you’ve put all your weight down. You feel like there’s nothing wrong in your life. Even the pain has dissipated somewhere. And you close your eyes into a pure bliss of silence. No pressure, no pain, no problem there to bother you anymore. 

……………………………

You can’t believe you did that!

You scrub your chest hard. 

How could you? 

You scrub your stomach even harder.

How did you do that?

You feel sick. Nauseous. 

It was with an unpleasantly twisting stomach that you ran into the bathroom a few minutes ago. Just after you woke up, next to Jungkook- the very same man who dragged you across hell. Then to make matters worse, you were tangled up with himー comfortably. 

Comfortably!

And naked!

You sprang out of bed, even not caring for the fact that you might wake Jungkook up. Nor did you wait to see if that was the case. You’ve wanted to throw up. You’ve felt like that but no matter how long you’ve waited kneeling in front of the toilet, nothing came out. So, you’ve opted for a shower. Which is what you’re doing now. 

Tears uncontrollably flooding through your eyes. Muffled sobs escaping past your lips. Steaming hot water cascading across your body. 

You have no idea how long it’s been since you entered the shower box. Maybe it’s just a few minutes or maybe it’s been hours. And you’ve been scrubbing your body like crazy ever sinceー to no avail. It doesn’t matter how hard and long you rub your skin, you feel like it’s not going away. The imprints of his calloused hands. Imprints of his soft lips and the coldness of that damn lip ring. The wetness of his hot tongue and the tingle of his breath. Then the fullness you’ve felt when he was inside you. 

You feel like he's still inside you. You can still feel the harsh thrusts. Can feel his skin slapping against yours. 

How did you let yourself do that? 

Now, you can’t get rid of him. 

You put extra pressure on your skin, scrubbing even harder. You lather on more and more shower gel, then go back to scrub. At this rate, you might end up actually hurting yourself, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You need him gone. 

You bring your hand down between your thighs, starting to scrub your inner thighs. This is the part you’ve paid the most attention to. You woke up with his cum dried on your thighs. Another, louder sob erupts as you try to get rid of the unseen evidence of the previous night. You wish you could wash your memory and soul as well. Wipe off everything. You want the previous night to be一

The sound of the bathroom door banging against the wall makes you jump on your spot. Yet you don’t get to let out much of a reaction before Jungkook barges inside the shower box. He wastes no time as he roughly snatches the scrubbing towel you’ve been using to scrub your body. You flinch and stumble a step back as Jungkook throws the towel away, blindly. 

“Fucking stop that!” He yells as he closes the distance between you, forcing you to take a few more shaky yet hurried steps back and cover your head with both your hands. You don’t even care for the fact that you’re stark naked. In all your time with him, you’ve never heard him raise his voice like this. “Fucking stop you little…” This time he grits through his clenched teeth. You cower behind your hands even more, which Jungkook finds to be more irritating. He yanks your hands away. Holds them apart and gives you a rough shake. “Don’t be a fucking bitch, (___).” He pulls you forward. 

All you manage is a tremble and a whimper. 

You’ve seen Jungkook mad. Or not. You’ve thought you’ve seen him mad. Him going berserk over the phone was nothing similar to this. Him raising his voice across a phone was nothing like seeing his face right now. He looks like a beast, almost inhuman. All of his beautiful features masked with pure fury. Eyes wild and bloodshot, jaw slack. A vein throbs at his temple. 

Jungkook looks crazy. 

Jungkook looks capable of murdering. 

Jungkook, the man who treated you oh so softly despite being a monster, looks like he’s about to snap you in half. 

“You said you wanted it” He shakes you again, this time even harder, pulling out more and more whimpers and cries. You find yourself even incapable of replying to him. Your heart pounding in your throat. Your vision dims.

Maybe this is how you’ll die. He’ll strangle you to the death. 

“You asked me to touch you, (___).” Jungkook’s voice lowered an octave this time. “You asked me to fuck you. You said you wanted it. D-don’t一” His voice cracks a bit and you think a flash of hurt breaks the fury in his eyes. And something inside you turns. Blinding fear subsides a little. He heaves a heavy sigh before speaking again. “Don’t act like I forced that on you.” He chokes out. The feeling inside you intensifies. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your head throbs with the rhythm. You gather courage to peer into his eyes. That beast is there but you see the pain. “Don’t be aー” He starts again. 

You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Maybe it’s fear. You wanted to distract him. Partially. You absolutely do not wish to die here. But then there was a guilt. Regret. A hurt that stirs your insides. Whatever the reason could be, you surprise yourself when you lunge forward, silencing Jungkook’s words when you press your lips to him. Initially, it’s just a press of the lips where you both do nothing, but then he pushes you back at the same time he starts kissing you desperately, madly, furiously. You return it to the best. 

Your back hits the cold wall behind you. Jungkook kisses you with the same fervor for a few more intense minutes before he pulls away. That’s only when you realize that the shower is still running. That Jungkook is half naked as well and is only wearing his boxers. That he’s getting drenched.

You peer at his face for a moment. The way the fury is still there but now laced with lust. You watch the way the droplets slid over his face. Over his chiseled cheekbones. Over his pink lips and the damn lip ring. A shudder ripple through you before you capture his bottom lip between your teeth, bite gently, soon falling into another kiss. Jungkook moans in appreciation. His hands leave yours so he can skim across your curves instead. Your back, waist, ass, stops under your thighs. Then in one swift moment he picks you up from the floor. You wrap your legs around his waist on instincts. 

Jungkook is the one who pulls away again. This time he does it with a harsh bite on your lower lip. Harsh enough that you mewl in pain before he sucks on the spot and soothes the sting. He lets your lip go before resting his forehead against you. Panting. 

“You wanted to get rid of me?” He questions, with that dangerous tilt in his voice, sharing one breath with you. You don’t answer him. Just try to fill your lungs with enough oxygen. “You wanted to escape me?” He repeats to which he doesn’t get an answer again. He presses another kiss to your lips, then drags those kisses toward your jaw. From there to your neck. Biting and sucking gently. Adding more marks into your already bruised skin. Mumbles his next words into your throat. “Guess what baby? You’ll never escape me.” With that he raises his face back to peer into your eyes. “I’ll fucking taint your memmories with me,” he growls. “I’ll fucking live inside your head, I’ll fucking burn myself into you. You. Are. Never. Going to escape me.” 

You tremble once again. Partially from a fire inside your stomach but partially from an unexplainable fear. Jungkook holds you with one arm for a bit as he shuffles with his boxers, pushing them down. Even the prospect makes your breath hitch and pussy clench. He holds you in his hold securely. “You are mine, baby.” He plunges inside you, ripping out a cry from you at the unexpectedness of his movements. Luckily you are already wet enough that he slides in easily. He stops once he’s buried to the hilt inside you. “You’ll be mine.” Gives you an experimental thrust. Your head falls back, hitting the tile and you clench around him violently. “And don’t try to deny that because trust me, princess, I’m gonna make you mine one way or another. I’ll rip your heart out of you and keep it inside a box if that’s what it takes. Soー” A harsh thrust interrupts his threat. “It’s time you should accept that you’re meant to be mine, pretty.” He picks up his speed and starts pounding into you. Calling you his over and over again. 

“Mine. Mine. Mine…”

………………………..

Jungkook never wanted to do something that you wouldn’t like. Never wanted to scare you. Even if he had, unintentionally, a few times. But the thing is, you’re not entirely blameless. You are a little stubborn witch in disguise. A brat. How hard it has been for him to keep you at bay. 

Jungkook found himself questioning often, why you were so reluctant to accept him. Be his. Understand that you two were always meant to be together. That you’ve always been tied to him with a red string. But then he believed you would come to accept that one day. He knew you would actually return his feelings. Give him what he’s been craving so badly for years. 

Years!

It has taken more time than he had expected, however. From the day he got a hold of you again through his meticulous plan to the day he finally brought you into this place that  was supposed to be your safe haven. It has taken longer to make you see things even if it’s not fully yet. 

But god, the trouble he had to go through!

First, it was making sure you wouldn’t do something that’s stupid and hurt yourself. Then there was the problem of controlling himself. It was as if holding his breath forever. You were a walking, talking ball of temptation. Jungkook had the hardest time having you around, in your cute shorts and comfy t-shirts which he picked out for you. You were the most adorable yet the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He’s been watching you from afar for so long. Can anyone blame him for nearly losing it when he finally had you in a close proximity. Close enough he could touch you, hold you, and hear you. 

The temptation was like a demon on his shoulder. He found himself in moments where he was a hair’s breadth away from kissing you until you were breathless. Bending you over and fucking the senses into you. But, thanks to all the high spirits above, he managed to control the urges. Because, in the end, Jungkook never wanted to do something that you didn’t want him to. 

Not because it was hard. It was easy in fact. But Jungkook always wanted you to want him. You never wanted him. Not back in your college years. Not even when you were chatting with him. True, you texted him every and each day but you truly didn’t know who he was now, did you? 

Then, suddenly all of his hard work paid off that way. 

Suddenly, you were seeking him. You were asking for him. You were willingly being with him. 

Just like now. 

It’s been a few days since your first night. Since Jungkook finally bent your stubborn will enough to see him. See his love. Yet still, Jungkook can’t help but gasp quietly in surprise when you straddle his lap, emerging out of nowhere. He can’t help but feel like pinching him to make sure he isn’t dreaming. 

You get comfortable in his lap. He is sitting on his gaming chair, not particularly playing games but he’s stressing over this one client. Some people are just morons who can’t understand simple things. Jungkook had leaked a very important piece of information to the public on this said client's request. It was the deal they made and the fucker should not be contacting Jungkook again. But here he is, asking for another deal. This time to revise what he already did. See now, Jungkook might be very good at his job. Sneaking into any database and leaking anything for the right amount of money. The thing is, however, he isn’t God and therefore the power of undoing something isn’t on his hand. Life, unfortunately, has no control plus z. His idiot of a client isn’t understanding that. 

And Jungkook was at the verge of finding the man and choking him to death himself when you appeared, now hiding your face in his neck. You plant a soft kiss on his neck making him shudder. A moan almost slips past his lips. He aligns his neck to give you more access. You haven’t said much since you straddled his lap, your legs placed either side of him. You pick up on his cue and strat peppering soft kisses over and over. Jungkook unconsciously wraps an arm around your body. 

“What are you doing, baby?” He questions as you move toward his throat. 

“You seemed tense.” You answer him, softly. 

Fuck! 

Jungkook finds this to be a huge victory. Despite all the time he had you lying beneath him and moaning his name, you mostly didn’t talk with him. And to think you care about him.

Did he die?

Is this heaven?

“Yeah? And you want to help me.” He starts rubbing your back soothingly. You nod into his throat. “Fuck!” Jungkook curses at the sensation of your lips on him and your admission. “God, pretty, you gonna kill me,” he gives a gentle smack on your perfect ass, marveling at the way you whimper in return. “What do you want to do, baby? How are you gonna help me?” 

You pull away from worshipping his neck at his words, facing him and peering at his eyes with your glinting eyes. A little bit hooded and glossy. You exhale a shaky breath. “I wanna- I- uh- can I suck you off, please?” Whisper oh so softly that Jungkook almost doesn’t hear you. He does somehow and the way his heart flutters must be risky to his health. Maybe he’s about to have a heart attack. 

He never wants anything more. This. You are on his hold and begging to please him. Jungkook has finally won. The flutter in his heart soon travels south creating a stir in his lower stomach and groin. He was becoming hard slowly since the moment you sat on his lap but now at your words, he goes rock hard in a blink. 

“Fuck! God, yes… You don’t have to ask, pretty. You get whatever you want.” He kisses your lips softly. “You want to suck daddy’s cock?” Asks against your mouth, making you tremble. You nod hurriedly. If he’s to push his hand inside your pants, he knows he’d find you already dripping wet. See, it is fate. You’re even this compatible in bed. He knows which button to play to get you high without any drugs. And you know which strings to pull to get him drunk without alcohol. “Go on then, on your knees, princess.” He commands, flipping that switch inside his brain to become the man you want him to be. You instantly start to shuffle down when he stops you once again. “Get rid of the clothes first, want you naked, kneeling in front of me and choking on my cock.”

You comply with him without a second request. Don’t even wait until Jungkook pushes down his sweats completely before you hungrily wrap your hand around his shaft and lips around his tip, pushing him into a blissful haze. From there it’s just a mess of drool, tears, and the sound of gagging. You don’t disappoint him the slightest. You prove him right again and again. With your tongue swirling around his tip. With him hitting the back of your throat. You prove that you’re just where you should be. And Jungkook’s head is spinning. He’s sure that he’s going to explode. Yet within few minutes of fucking your throat, he had to drag you into his lap again. 

This time, however, your back facing him, your legs spread widely, and his cock buried inside you. Jungkook would’ve been more than happy to make you swallow his cum but he couldn't help but being a bit greedy and wanting the warm confines of your pussy. You clench around him every time his middle finger garzes over your clit and like clockwork, Jungkook feels his cock twitching. 

“You feel so good, slut. So fucking good… You love daddy’s cock?” He asks in your ear. You moan out an inaudible ‘yes’. Jungkook rewards you with a slow thrust. You look so blissful. So lost in him. So fucked up. Makes him want to see and try how much he can push you. How farther you’ll bend for him. “You look pretty, baby, so beautiful,” He kisses your shoulder. “Would you like to see how beautiful you are?” He asks to which he doesn’t get an answer in return. He doesn’t mind that, simply knows you’re so far gone to be able to perform coherent thoughts let alone words. “Would you like to record this baby? So, we can watch it again, andー” Rest of his words die on his tongue when you squeeze his length so hard. “Holy fuck! You like that? You want that?” You answer him with another nod but this time he wants your words. “Words baby…”

“Yes. Yes Jungkook… I…” 

That’s enough for him. He drags the chair forward keeping you on him safely, fumbling with his phone with one hand. He places it on the desk, propped against his monitor, front cam opened, and facing you both. Capturing a beautiful view of you filled with him.  And he hits the record button. Pulls the chair back to adjust into the best position. 

“There you go, slut. C’mon now, ride me!”

…………………………….

You are lying on your side, curled up on the couch and back pressed against Jungkook. His arms are wrapped around you protectively. Titanic is playing on the TV and you’re doing your best to pay attention with Jungkook’s mindless nibbling on your ear. 

Lately, you’ve grown accustomed to being close and intimate with him even when sex isn’t on the table. You’ve learnt to accept all the pampering, cuddles, and innocent kisses. You’re not sure when exactly that happened.

First, it was all about sex. After the time he fucked you in the shower and swore that you’ll never escape him, you promised yourself that you’ll never allow him another chance to even  lay a finger on you. That was going well until he sneaked into the bed that night. Each and every time you swore that it was going to be the last just to fail miserably. You couldn’t bring yourself to say no, every time his lips pressed against yours, his hands roamed across your body, his breathy voice whispered against your ears. Jungkook had it all easy and one day you’ve decided to let it happen without any resistance from your mind. Because, in the end, your body was going to betray you anyway. 

Ever since, your life has been one haze of pleasure. There was no space for pain. Even the memories of your life before thisーthe life full of misery and bitchy people has faded into the past. Jungkook has been keeping you busy all the time. Busy enough that nothing could disturb your blissful peace.

Through endless sex and mind shattering orgasms, time has slipped through your fingers like a passing breeze. You think there is no space in this entire apartment where Jungkook hasn’t had you in. Kitchen. Couch. Balcony. Pressed against a window. Even on top of the washer. And every way he can. Tied up to his bed post. Blindfolded. Even had made you ride his shoe. Had made you masturbate while he watched and recorded. Had you plugged in with his cum inside. Every kind of kink he can think of. 

You have started to lose sense of the time. Every day feels the same. You’ve fallen into the same routine. And despite all the pleasure, you’re growing tired of it. Maybe you need something new to focus on. 

“Jungkook?” You call out softly. He stops nibbling on your ear immediately and pays attention to you. 

“Yes, pretty?”

“Can you- uh- buy me a book maybe…  please,  I’m getting  kinda bored…”

A soft gasp treats you, forcing you to turn around and look at him in confusion. He’s regarding you with a wide grin. You raise a brow in question. 

“Of course, I can, baby. I can buy you anything you want. You don’t have to ask like that. Tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you right away.” A gentle kiss to your cheek. “So, a book, huh? You’re not a reader?” He teases. 

You almost open your mouth to question how he would know before it hits you. He knows. He knows every damn thing. What’s your favorite food to, now your favorite position. Then there is you, knowing nothing except his name. You turn around completely, facing him properly.

“I am not but I can start reading.” You tilt your head up to peer at his eyes. He opens his mouth to reply but you beat him into it. “How come you have so much money?” You question without letting yourself weigh the consequences of questioning. Jungkook’s face falls. 

“I don’t have a lot of money.” He answers gently. 

“You do,” you gesture around the lavish apartment. “This apartment is the most luxurious place I’ve ever been to. And,” you clutch his shirt. “It’s like you’re never stepping outside this house. You’re earning all this money by working from home? What kind of job pays so much?”

Jungkook sighs. “I’m good at developing. Apps and stuff,” He looks carefully at you, as though he’s expecting a harsh reaction from you. You almost do before you catch yourself in time. It’s all past anyway. “I-uh- let’s say I work in I.T, yeah?” That’s the clue for you to let the topic go. 

“Where’s your family?” So you change it. 

“I don’t have one.” He answers that more easily than the previous one. 

“Oh! You’re orphー”

“They’re both alive but I refuse to have any contact with them. They’ve made my life a living hell.”

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You apologize quickly. A heaviness engulfing your chest at his words. Jungkook chuckles and brushes stray hair away from your face. 

“It’s fine, pretty. Why all the questions, though?” 

“Just because. I just realized I don’t know much about you.”

“Yeah? Why do you want to know about me?”

“I- I don’t know. I just want to know.” You shrug nonchalantly. Yet as you watch, Jungkook’s face lights up. Eyes glinting and lips spreading into a wide grin. Wide enough that he has to bite down on his lip to contain it. In a matter of seconds, he turns into a boy who's ten years younger than him. And you think you see a faint redness in his cheeks as well. 

…………………………..

Jungkook knows that you have no idea how much it means to him to know you’re getting closer and closer every day. First sex, then all the shared casual moments, and you were interested in knowing him. And then you asked him for something? 

Isn’t that what lovers do?

Aren’t you acting like a cute girlfriend?

Oh, the fluttering of his heart and stomach you’re causing. Jungkook doesn't think he’s been happier than this in his entire life. He’s riding a high just by watching how shocked and excited you are kneeling in front of the books he brought for you. 

“What the hell, Jungkook?” You look up at him, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. 

“You asked for books.” He gestures at the box before you. 

“No…” you groan. “I asked for a book. Not for a whole damn library?” Start to rummage through the box, pulling out a book. “What am I gonna do with so many books, Jungkook?”

“Read them.” Jungkook kneels beside you, stealing a kiss into your hair while he does.

“I’m a slow reader, I’ll fucking die before I ever finish reading these.” You sigh exasperatedly, being a little dramatic. To be honest, it’s not even that many. 

“Hey, it’s okay, pretty. I told you I’m gonna buy you anything. It’s fine if you can’t read them all or you start to get bored at it. Find a new hobby and tell me what you want.” He takes your hand in his. Kisses your soft hands delicately. You look at him with sparkling eyes. 

Fuck!

You’re turning to your normal self slowly. You’re getting your color back. Putting on weight. You smile more and talk to him more. Few more days and you’ll be the happiest you’ve ever been. 

See, Jungkook knew exactly what you needed. He was right all along. 

Just a few more days and he’ll be able to let his guard down. Stop watching your every move like a hawk. Rescheduling and canceling his plans because he can’t leave you alone in here. He managed a good enough security system including cameras but he’ll never know. He had to keep a close eye—for now.  But soon you’ll never think about leaving him. 

Because he can see the way you slowly understand that you belong to him. 

“You’re crazy.” You grumble as you get to your feet. Jungkook follows your actions. You take a step toward him, and bide your time for a minute before standing on your tiptoes and kiss him. Hard and deep. 

“Whoa is that a thank you?” He pants once you pull away. 

You nod. “There’s more.” Say as you throw your arms around his neck and jump. He catches you up by your thighs with the practice ease. 

“Yeah? Another video?”

“Yes, please…”

………………………….

You stay still, unsure of what to do as Jungkook gently cups your face in his hands. 

“Are you sure you're going to be okay?” He asks for what must be the millionth time. You nod again, trying to appear confident and nonchalant. But the thing is, you’re nervous. Every nerve ending in your body is ablaze. 

Jeon Jungkook is about to leave you alone in this house for the first time. Something about an unavoidable meeting with a client. 

You don’t know if  he’s ever done it without your knowledge before. Maybe he had. But at this moment, he’s doing it with your full acknowledgement. He’s stopped locking you in that damn room every time. Mainly because you’ve been attached to him by the hip lately. You’ve started sharing a bed and a shower. He had no reason to be worried about you trying anything funny, anymore. This, however, is his first time giving you this kind of freedom. And you’re unsure what to do with it. 

“Pretty?” Jungkook furrows his eyebrows in concern. 

You clear your throat quickly. “I can Jungkook, I’m a grown woman.” State as you free your face from his hold. You both know that he isn’t referring to your capabilities of staying home alone. You both know he’s asking if you’d not betray his trust. That you’ll not try something that would make both of you regret. 

He smiles softly at your admission. “Well then, I won’t be more than an hour.” He finally takes a step away. You return his smile, staying rooted in your place. He takes another and another, walking backward. Just as he’s about to turn around, you snap out of your stupor. You rush forward, five quick steps, and press a kiss to his lips.

Creases between Jungkook’s brows finally ease up as you pull away. 

“Be quick.” You mumble, turning him around and you give him a gentle push forward. This time he doesn’t stop you. You walk with him to the front door, wait till he walks out and disappears before releasing a shaky breath.

For the first time, you’re completely alone here. 

………………………..

You don’t know what you should do.

All these times, you’ve never even thought about an escape. Jungkook has kept you busy. Busy enough that you’ve forgotten you’re a prisoner here. That he’s your captor. Not someone who you can trust or your lover. But the thing is, you don’t know what to do? 

Do you try to run away? To where? To your old house? To the police station? 

Then what? Do you still want to confront Hoseok? Do you still want to meet your best friend? Yes, probably. Maybe…

But, do you have the courage to escape? 

You don’t even know what kind of security he has. In your first few days you were  so keen to know every minuscule detail about this place, planning your grand escape. Now you know nothing. 

You stand up from the couch after staring into the empty black screen of the TV for the past twenty minutes. Nothing is going to happen by wasting your time. You make your way slowly to Jungkook’s guest room where he has kept his computer, without any purpose. You don’t know what you’re doing. 

It’s just that you’re too restless to stay put. There’s a clock ticking and if you want to do something, you need to be fast about it. No, there’s no ifs, you should do something. This is your chance.  

But the problem is that you don’t really feel like doing anything. 

An inaudible groan of frustration leaves your throat. This can’t be happening? You can’t be serious. After everything, after the hell he put you through, you can’t simply want to stay with him. 

Sex was good, sure. He was treating you well, sure. Still, he’s the same person who guided you into a trap. You’ve been stuck in that trap for a while now. 

Yet even the thought of escaping. Running away from Jungkook gives you another level of fear. As if the safe bubble you’ve been living in is about to burst. It’s scary. To think that you’ll be back in the world, wandering around. Facing Daebi and Hoseok who have a fair share in your misfortune. Maybe others do too. Maybe they don’t want you back in their life at all. Jungkook does, though. Your parents must’ve accepted that you were long gone and moved on. There is no one out there who is waiting for you. Jungkook is here for you. 

But is this the life you want? 

What about walking among people on busy nights? You didn’t love your job but you loved earning your own money. What about living your life of your own accord and not having to rely on someone else? What about travelling the world? What about late night clubbing? Meeting new people? Worrying about buying new expensive clothes? What about life? 

You can’t live your whole life this way. Stuck in an apartment while your entire world revolves around one man. You don’t want it to be like that. It’s not like you’ve fallen in love with him anyway. Right? Of course, not. You’re not a victim of Stockholm syndrome. 

No. No. No… 

You have to do something!

You take a few rushed steps toward Jungkook’s working table, without knowing what you’re actually doing. Maybe you should just risk it and try to open the front door. Or maybe you can turn on his computer and send a message- not to Daebi or any of your friends- but maybe to someone else. Police. Or anyone you could reach. You can check the drawers for a second phone. You couldー

“Fuck!” A loud curse leaves your mouth as an unexpected pain erupts from your left foot. You’ve hit it on the leg of the table. You come to an abrupt halt, mewling in pain, and bend down to rub your foot and ease the pain. You stay in that position and rub your poor toes for another long second before finally straightening up, ready to continue your aimless mission. Only to mewl again when the top of your head hits something. Luckily for you, it was just a pile of books that dropped down to the floor at the impact, with a loud thud. 

“For fucks sake!” Irritation bubbles inside you. You bring your hand up to rub your head this time, eyeing the fallen pile of books. You’ve no time to reorganize it. You already wasted enough time. That’s what you almost do. 

Almost, though. 

Just before you turn around again, your heart beating in your throat, you notice the photo on the floor. Probably was inside a book and slipped out when they dropped down. You would’ve ignored it if it wasn’t for the person in the photo. You can mistake anyone else for someone else. But yourself?

A sharp inhale fills your lungs to the brim before you let that breath out. 

It’s you who’s in the photo. Undoubtedly and unmistakably. So what? It’s not that much of a surprise to Jungkook to have a photo of you when you know he’s been stalking you. But what gets you frozen in mid motion is the fact that the you in the photo was from ages ago. 

College?  

You kneel before the scattered books and papers, feeling your legs buckle. Something uneasy gathers and swirls inside you, twisting your guts unpleasantly. You know this feeling well. You’ve been getting such kind of feelings all of your damned life and everytime you weren’t wrong to suspect something bad. Because every time you felt this way, something bad happened. 

You pick up the photo with trembling hands to take a closer look. You might be mistaken about the time frame. 

A young, carefree girl smiled back at you. You’re not mistaken. No. Definitely not. This photo was taken years ago. This photo was from another world. A world you’ve left behind and forgotten for the good. 

It’s from your college days!

You feel your head start to spin. Memories of blood plague your mind. Screams of agony echo inside your skull. Touch of warm hands tingles your skin. Wetness of a sweet pair of lips brushed across your lips. 

You close your eyes to shake away the unwanted memories. You can’t let this happen now. No. Yet all you can see is the blurred lights and silhouette of people. All you can smell is the cigarettes and alcohol. 

The cursed night!

This- Jungkook and his stupid app, and his kidnapping- wasn’t the first time you’ve been through hell. You’ve been through worse back then. But after so much effort- including countless therapy, changing universities, starting your degree all over, moving into a different city and years of pain and nightmares, you left that life behind. You were living a normal, good life until Hoseok broke up with you. 

Now, a single image is bringing all the buried memories up. The things you don’t want to remember. You swallow down a sob, forcing yourself to pull it together. 

It’s going to be fine…

You reopen your eyes and stare at the photo again. Fighting, battling. Trying hard not to break down on the spot. 

You can do this…

Just put the damn photo away and focus on your task… 

It’s past. It’s past. It’s past.

It was all over.

But how does Jungkook have it? 

You freeze again, brows furrowed in confusion. Did he stalk you so hard he found your old photos as well? Did he know about the past that you hate? Did he know about the pain you went through but still decided to traumatize you more? 

You clutch the photo even tighter. You’re fighting. There’s a war going inside your head. So many things happening at the same time. And you’re afraid you’re losing. 

Let the photo go…

You blankly stare at the photo for another second before, reluctantly dragging your gaze away, to the scattered books. That’s when you notice a second photo peeking out from one of the books. 

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. 

Your hand works in autopilot mode when you grab the book and turn it over, dropping at least twenty photos inside it to your lap. You let the photo of you go as you start picking up one by one. Slowly first. Eyes carefully scanning over every single one of them.

You, with Daebi, at the university café.

You, with Hoseok, inside his car. 

You, with Jimin….

With Nina….

With some other people, you don’t recognize…

You. You. You.

At your classes.

At your apartment.

At your job.

Library.

You go through the photos as fast as the wind. Your speed builds up with every photo, until one makes you freeze.

It is not you. 

A person stands in front of a building you don’t recognize. He is wearing black, head to toe. Even his face is covered in a hoodie. The memories return. Blood. Screams. Light… and a guy. His hands wrapped around you, mumbling sweet nothing in your ear. His hands were covered in blood. His face was covered in a hoodie. 

Suddenly, you are sitting in the back of that business class. A meek, nerdy guy next to you. His face hidden, all you can see is a part of his cheek and set of pretty pink lips. Even with the time and all your efforts to drown those memories, you remember him like you’re staring at him. 

Lips. 

Pretty pink lips. 

You even remember the taste of those lips. The warmth of them.

Those lips should’ve faded into memory. The memories should be jumbled. You should only remember the faded bits. But strangely you don’t. Instead, you feel like you’ve seen the same lips yesterday. You feel like those lips were pressed against yours a moment ago. 

Pretty pink lips…

Out of nowhere Jungkook’s smile flashes across your mind. The way his lips stretch, making the lip ring glint. The way he bites onto his bottom lip to contain his goofy smile. That adorable, boyish smile. 

Haven’t you seen that smile before as well?

The guy who wore that hoodie, that guy who never told you his name, kept his face hidden from you, drugged you, almost killed a person in front of you. Hasn’t he smiled the same way? It was such a rare thing but you’ve seen him smile. And you’ve seen his lips. Is it possible to recognize someone with their lips? 

No…. That can’t be. No fucking way. 

You gasp for air even though there is nothing keeping you from inhaling. That familiar fear you’ve not experienced for a long time now, shoots across your body, wrapping around your bones, flesh, and skin. 

No….

Out of all the fucked up and twisted things in your life, this can’t be one. 

You hurriedly throw away the image and pick up the last one. And with that the last threads of hope you hold onto are shredded into million pieces. 

It’s an exact similar second image of the previous one. The same person is standing in the same posture in front of the same building. Yet the hood that covered his face had fallen back, revealing his face. 

The same face that had greeted you every morning for the past couple months. The face that you always found to be astonishingly handsome. The face that lured you into this trap through that AI app. 

It’s the same person. Just far, far younger. 

Jeon Jungkook!

Right then, you lose the battle. The sobs and cries you are trying so hard not to let out, escapes you as one loud gasp, followed by uncontrollable tears. Yet before that gasp can turn into loud sobs a familiar voice distracts you. 

“Pretty?”

You turn around faster than a bolt of lightning. Your eyes meet with Jungkook who stands in the doorway, scowling, confused. In another time you would’ve been scared for your life. So startled that you start to stutter. This moment, however, you don’t feel anything remotely close to fear. Instead, a rage builds up inside you. A rage that is born from a hurt. 

Ridiculous. Why would you be hurt? You should only be angry. 

“You motherfucker!” You rush into your feet. Storm toward Jungkook within a blink of an eye. “You fucking lied to me! It was you! It was you all along! You were the prick who ruined my life back then and now….” You screech through your lungs, tears mixing with your enraged words and making your voice crack. “And you lied to me! Every, fucking, person in my life…” You curl your fists into tiny balls, the photo still clutched between your fingers, as you hit Jungkook’s chest. “Everyone… lied to me…” You hit him over and over. Clenching your teeth and pouring all your anger as tears. “I trusted you… And you lied to me too… You fuckingー”

“Pretty, hey, hey…” Jungkook grabs your fists, preventing you from attacking him like a mad cat. You struggle against him the best you can but he holds you tight. “Het, pretty… fuck! Listen to me!”

“I fucking hate you Jeon Jungkook! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hateー” You scream. Jungkook muffles your screams by pulling you into his chest. “I hate you so much.” So, you mumble into his chest, giving up trying to free yourself from his hold. He’s too strong for you. 

You should be mad, but what you feel is hurt. 

Did you really trust your captor? 

“I didn’t lie to you… No, baby, I didn’t.” He mutters into your hair. You don’t give him a reply. Just break into his chest. “I was just a kid, I didn’t know what I was doing.” He continues. “I just wanted a chance to show you that I- I- uh- loved you,” His hold on you tightens. “I’ve always loved you. So damn much. But you were so gone about your pathetic ex, you didn’t even notice me. I had to do something.”

You don’t even know what he’s saying anymore. Your head is spinning and your ears are ringing. Yet at the back of your mind, the pieces finally fall into place. 

“I won’t accept the defeat this time…”

“You never saw how I always loved you…”

You never paid that much of an attention to those words. Now they make sense. 

“Y-you fucking- drugged me… y-you almost let someone toー” You stutter out weakly, only to get cut off. 

“I didn’t, did I? I’d never let anyone lay a fucking finger on you.”

You ignore what he’s saying. “Y-you let me wa-watch a-as you killed a person.”

“He didn’t die.”

As if that would change anything. 

“Oh god, why Jungkook? Why me? What did I ever do to you?”

“Don’t say that, pretty. Don’t fucking say that,” Jungkook hides his face in your hair. “You have no idea how much I love you… I was just trying. I was a kid,” his voice cracks painfully, and even without looking at him, you get the suspicion that he’s joined you with the crying. “I was trying to win you over and that was a mistake. I’m so sorry, princess, don’t say you hate me. C’mon I deserve a chance. I- I- was trying while your boyfriend was getting his cock sucked by your best friend.” 

Your sobs deepen. Jungkook presses kiss after kiss into your hair. 

“I’m so sorry baby, but give me a chance… You know I’ll never hurt you. Let me tell you the full story.”

You don’t want to listen to any story. No. You don’t want this pain. 

You pull away from his chest despite his reluctance. For a second you peer into his glossy eyes. Then in the next, you pull him into a hungry kiss. 

Fuck this!

Fuck your life!

Jungkook is fucking sick. But still, you know he’s painfully in love with you. 

If you can’t escape this hell, then you might get used to it.

………………………

At Hoseok’s place

“Are you guys fucking kidding me?” Jimin practically throws the tablet away. Luckily it doesn’t hit anything but just drops into the couch. 

“What do you want us to do, Jimin?” Deabi shouts across from the living room, hands dramatically thrown in the air. 

Hoseok watches wearily as his girlfriend and best friend fight over a matter that’s worth all the fighting. 

“Is that even a question, Daebi? That’s your fucking best friend. You give her up that easily?” Jimin says, with a rage Hoseok has only seen once — on that cursed night.

“I’m tired, for God’s sake! I’m tired and I can’t do this anymore.” Daebi slumps her shoulders. 

“You’re a fucking coward!” Jimin points a finger at her. Then turns his glare to Hoseok. “You too. You both are fucking cowards. First, you went behind her back and then when she needed you, you just give up?”

“We- we’re not—” Hoseok tries to argue when Jimin stops him. 

“Save the fucking excuses, man. I can’t believe you dragged us into this shit as well? I can’t believe you did that to her.” Jimin scoffs. “But guess what? I’m better than you. I’m not fucking giving up.”

“Then what the hell are you going to do?” Hoseok yells for the first time as well. This is ridiculous. He doesn’t want to give up. No. But things have turned to a point where there is no answer for anything. After exactly four months of continuous searching, and no clue, everyone has accepted that you are dead. The case isn’t officially closed yet but the fire it had caused has died down. 

One of their good friends who was actively working on the case has informed Hoseok that there might be no hope. And after a year, the case would be officially closing and the court would declare you dead, citing your mental instability. He had asked Hoseok to give up on hope. 

Apparently, Jimin isn’t ready to do so. Which is good. Hoseok would be happy to be a part of that. But the question remains. What are they going to do? An unwavering determination without a plan is stupid, which describes Jimin at this moment.

Hoseok knows where Jimin comes from. Jimin used to be a good friend of yours. He met you because of Hoseok and therefore you were always out of reach for him. But maybe if Hoseok never was a part of that equation Jimin should’ve taken your friendship into other levels. Yet life had different plans. And Jimin settled into being that good friend who would travel impossible distances to make sure his friends are okay. 

That’s exactly what Jimin is trying to do. You grew apart after your nasty breakup with Hoseok. Hoseok knows that. Mainly because Jimin is Hoseok’s friend and Jimin was ashamed to face you. Then before you could actually become friends again you’ve disappeared. 

Then there must be the guilt. Guilt of finally knowing Hoseok and Daebi’s story. They decided to come clean to at least Jimin and Nina after you disappeared. They wanted a way to ease their consciousness, even when they knew it wasn’t going to go well. Just as expected, Jimin was ready to murder them both. Disappointed. So was Nina. Jimin even stopped talking to Hoseok, until he sent the text on the group chat today. 

The very reason why Jimin barged in.

“I don’t know… maybe trying to convince your detective friend not to give up so easily. It’s just fucking four months.” Jimin grits. 

Technically, it’s turning five in a week. And Hoseok can’t do such a thing. He is friends with a detective who was happy to take over your case. Friends. That’s the word. He is not a boss. 

“Jimin-ah…” Hoseok sighs, not knowing exactly how to explain to his friend that this is out of his control. 

Jimin lets out a bitter chuckle. “What? You can’t? Of course, you can’t.” He takes a threatening step toward Hoseok. “Well, you know what Hoseok? It’s not that you can’t, it’s that you don’t. I fucking bet you two,” he gestures between Hoseok and Daebi. “Are actually fucking happy that she went missing.” Jimin spits out making Hoseok’s eyes widen. 

What now?

And making it worse Jimin adds more to his nonsense with a low voice. “Maybe, you’re the reason why she—”

Jimin doesn’t get to finish the sentence when Hoseok practically jumps at him, grabbing from his shirt with both hands. 

“What the fuck did you say?” Hoseok screeches. Jimin doesn’t even flinch at the sudden impact. 

“Oh god, will you guys stop… we’re friends.” Before Jimin can answer Hoseok, Daebi meddles, trying to part the two friends who are about to strangle each other. 

“Friends?” Jimin shakes Hoseok’s hands off him, scoffing. “I don’t see any friends here. In fact, I’m not your friend Daebi.” With that he throws a final glare at Hoseok. Turns around. “Enjoy. Get engaged. Hell, get married so we can throw a party.” Says before walking away and disappears through the front door. 

A heavy silence falls over. 

“I’m so disappointed in you guys.” After a minute, Nina, who’s been so quiet and pale, mumbles weakly. 

Then she too walks slowly over to the front door. 

……………………………………..

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[urmum-lovesme]

I need more toxic!dad!rafe!!

more Toxic!Rafe as a dad. . . say less baby

Y/n's pregnancy would have been really rough because let’s be real- Rafe wasn’t some supportive, doting boyfriend holding her hand through morning sickness and late-night cravings. The stress of it all made the pregnancy physically tough, too. Rafe wasn’t gentle with her- emotionally or physically. Sure, he liked the idea of her being pregnant, but that didn’t mean he stopped arguing, didn’t mean he stopped grabbing her too hard when he was pissed. He’d justify it, tell her she was hormonal when she got upset, that she was just overreacting.

But let's talk about the first few months.

At first when Y/N found out she was pregnant she hid it, at least for a little while. She obviously wasn't sure what she was going to do yet. Y/N had been so careful, she never ever slipped up about her little secret at home, but one morning she did.

Her mom had gone upstairs to leave a package she'd ordered in her room but she noticed something she wasn’t supposed to. Y/N had been so sure she closed her bedside drawer, but in her rush in the morning, she must have left it cracked open. And when her mom went to push it shut, something caught her eye.

Two little pink lines staring back at her.

Y/N wasn’t home when her mom found it. She’d gone to 'escape' for a bit, to pretend her life wasn’t completely falling apart at the seams. But when she came back, as soon as she opened the door, she felt the tension. Her mom was sitting at the kitchen table, the pregnancy test right there in front of her, like a bomb waiting to go off.

And then there was her dad.

He was standing by the counter, arms crossed, his jaw clenched so tightly she thought his teeth might crack. Her mom’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a knife.

"Is this your's Y/N?"

She froze at the question. She felt like she was sinking, the air being sucked out of her lungs.

"Mom—"

"Don’t" 

Her father's voice snapped out cutting her off. Her head jerked toward him at the stern tone, her heart hammering. He barked, slamming his hand down on the counter in irritation as he spoke.

"How the hell could you be so fucking stupid?" 

Y/N flinched at the sudden action, she knew they wouldn't be happy but she certainly wasn't expecting this.

"I- Dad, please—"

"No, don’t ‘Dad, please’ me!" His voice was booming, his face red with anger. "You’re still a kid, Y/N! And now you’re gonna have a baby? You've ruined your life!"

Y/N could feel the lump in her throat growing, so rapidly she felt as though she was going to throw up. Her mom let out a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes. 

"How far along are you?"

"I don’t know—maybe… two months?"

Y/N swallowed hard at the silence that came after. Her mom let out a choked sound, shaking her head as she covered her mouth with her hand.

"With Rafe? Sweetheart, please tell me you’re joking."

Y/N didn’t respond. But her silence was enough, and the tears pooling in her eye's proved to her parents all they needed to know. Her dad laughed. A dry, humorless sound.

"Of course, you couldn’t have picked someone worse, could you?"

"Dad, stop—"

"No, you stop! You think this is some fucking fairytale? That he’s gonna be some good little boyfriend and help raise this kid?"

He scoffed shaking his head at his daughter. She felt like a little kid again, being scolded on the playground for running away too far out of his sight. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from breaking out into sobs. Her father pointed an angry finger at her as he spoke.

"He’s a junkie, Y/N. A loser. A fucking Cameron. And you—” he shook his head, his voice full of disbelief, "You just threw your entire life away for him."

Tears welled in her eyes, her whole body trembling, "I didn’t plan for this!"

"Then why didn’t you get rid of it?"

Y/N’s breath caught at his harsh words, "Jesus, Dad!"

"You had options, Y/N," he pressed, tone sharp. "And instead, you’re keeping his fucking leash around your neck—"

"Enough," her mother whispered, her tone dissapointed, "Just… stop."

For a moment, everything was silent. And then, finally, her mom looked at her, her expression shattered. 

"You can’t stay here, Y/N."

Y/N’s stomach dropped. They were kicking her out? She's their only child and they're kicking her out? She felt so lightheaded she was surprised her legs didn't give out from underneath her.

"What?"

Her dad didn’t even hesitate as he spoke out, "You’re not staying under this roof if you’re keeping that baby."

Ironically right after that, I think she went straight to Tannyhill, where else was she meant to go? It would've been pretty late, and she probably sat in her car for twenty minutes before she calmed down enough to be able to walk up to the front door of the massive house looming over her. Rafe, for once, was not completely high or out partying, instead he’s stuck at home after an argument with Ward, who'd taken Rose, Wheezie and Sarah with him to some long weekend get away to the Bahamas.

I imagine him cracking the door open, groggy and half-asleep, only to find Y/N standing there, her face soaked in tears, her whole body trembling from trying to hold it together. For a second, he just stares and then she sniffs, trying to get words out, but she can’t. Her lips wobble, her breath shudders, and her shoulders shake as she breaks all over again.

"They kicked me out."

It takes him a second to process, but when he does, something shifts in his expression. He looks her up and down- her arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together, her red-rimmed eyes, the slight flinch when she breathes in too hard.

And something about it fucks with him.

The idea that someone else- her own family no less- mistreats her would really get to Rafe. It’s not just about her being upset, it’s about him being the only one allowed to do that to her. He’s always had a possessive side, but when someone else challenges his claim over her… it feels like a direct challenge to his control. He might not show it right away, but it disturbs him. It shakes him up because in his world, he is the one who’s allowed to hurt her.

"Come inside" 

He mutters, stepping back to let her in. She hesitates for half a second, but the cold night air is biting, and she has nothing left. So she steps inside. Y/N stands there in the hallway, her breath shallow, her body trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. Her hands clutch at her stomach, as if the life inside her is the only thing still holding her together. Her eyes are glassy, filled with unshed tears, the weight of her parents' rejection sinking deep into her chest. The house is quiet- too quiet and Rafe's presence is dark and heavy, stepping closer like a shadow that wraps itself around her.

"What happened?"

His voice is rough, low, cutting through the silence. He doesn’t need to ask more, because she knows that’s all it’ll take to break her again. Y/N’s breath hitches, the tears fall faster now, streaking down her cheeks, and her hands shake as she presses them to her face, trying to stop herself from falling apart completely.

"They found out. My mom- she- she saw the test, and my dad—" 

Her words falter as the sobs wrack her body, tearing through her chest like a hurricane. As she stands there, her whole body shaking, Rafe moves closer, pulling her into him with the force of his presence. His hands find her back, rubbing it softly, tenderly, as if he’s not the reason she's in this mess. Yet she leans into him either way, melting into his touch cause some sick part of her can't help but yearn for him. But this is Rafe of course, he had already gotten in her head about having this baby, and he had to make sure her mind didn't change.

"They don’t give a shit about you, Y/N. They’re embarrassed by you."

His sweet tone was a juxtaposition to his brutal words, a reality she certainly didn't want to face. the hands clinging onto his shirt loosened slightly as the sentence left his mouth, but his grip on her didn't waver.

"You think they’re gonna change their minds? You think they’re gonna help you raise this kid?"

She pulled her head away from his chest to look up at him, expression completely hopeless as her eyes met his intense gaze. His hand, previously rubbing soothing circles onto her lower back moved up, his fingers tightening slightly around the back of her neck, grip firm, enough to keep her from looking away. His eyes, cold and calculating, bore into hers, searching for any sign of weakness, any sign that she might still doubt what he’s saying. The silence between them feels thick, heavy with the weight of his words.

"Don’t you get it, Y/N?"

His voice drops lower, smoother, as if he’s explaining something painfully obvious. Rafe's thumb traces lightly along her skin, as if to remind her just how close he is, just how much control he has over her. He watches her closely, his gaze unwavering, as her breath comes in short, shaky bursts. The conflict in her eyes is obvious, but Rafe’s not letting her off the hook that easily. He leans in, his breath hot against her ear as he continues, his tone still deceptively sweet, coated with that sickening layer of care he knows she craves.

"Look at you," he mutters, his lips barely brushing the shell of her ear,

"You’re a mess. And no one’s gonna fix you but me."

Her chest tightens at the sound of his words, and for a moment, she almost feels trapped within the web he’s spun around her. Her head is spinning, as his hand slides from her neck to her cheek, cupping her face, forcing her to focus on him, his touch both tender and possessive.

"You don’t want to be alone in this, do you? I’m the only one you’ve got. The only one who cares enough to stick around."

Y/N blinks back tears, feeling a strange pull toward him even as her gut screams that this isn’t right. But his words… they get under her skin, wrap around her heart, making her feel like maybe, just maybe, he’s all she has left. Maybe he’s right, and there’s no one else who will be there for her... it's his baby after all. She opens her mouth to speak, her voice shaky.

"I-"

But Rafe cuts her off shushing her gently, his hand slides from her cheek to her jaw, tilting her head back slightly, forcing her to meet his gaze, voice low and smooth, a promise wrapped in poison.

"You’re mine, Y/N. You’re going to do this for me. For us."

In that moment, despite the rising nausea in her chest, she feels herself giving in. It's twisted and toxic, but a part of her is already slipping into his control. She knows it’s wrong, she knows it should scare her, but his words, his presence- it's like a drug. She needs it, needs him, even if it's all just another layer of manipulation wrapped in false affection. Her lips tremble as she finally speaks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I… I don’t know what to do."

Rafe smirks, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he pulls her closer, his lips brushing her's gently.

"I’ve got it all figured out for you baby."

[mandarinmoons]

Dessert

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! reader Summary: Upon finding out that Spencer left his lunch at home reader heads over to The BAU to hand it over to him along with an extra sweet surprise Words: ~ 600 Warnings: None

“Spence, someone’s here to see you!”

Spencer looked up from his paperwork toward the voice that called him. He saw JJ near the doorway with another woman next to her, not a stranger, but someone he knew all too well. It was you.

As his eyebrows furrowed, Spencer stood up and made his way over to you. His work was the last place he expected you to show up, not that he wasn’t happy to see you, but his relationship to you wasn’t something he had mentioned to anyone, not even his mother.

You and Spencer had only been dating for a few months and with everything going extremely well during that time he still hadn’t told anyone on the team about you, and why should he? Spencer was a fairly private person and with how demanding and dangerous his job could be he didn’t want to open the door of horrors to you to keep you safe, to not scare you away. Everything was still so new, the highs of the honeymoon phase were still felt by the both of you and with Spencer’s life going down the way that it has, he was determined to make it last as long as he could. He needed a break from everything, as anyone else does, and being in your arms was his escape.

“Y/N, what’re you doing here?”

You chuckled as you held up a tupperware container to Spencer’s face, his confusion turning to realization in an instant.

“You forgot your lunch. I thought that I’d bring it over.”

Spencer cleared his throat and took the container in his hands, his eyes falling to the floor as he felt his teammates glance over at you both from across the bullpen. He felt his cheeks heat up and it was evident that he wasn’t going to be able to keep his sweet little secret under the wraps. With the room being filled with profilers, everyone was bound to know what role you played in Spencer’s life.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Spencer’s lips were quick to turn into a small smile when he heard you chuckle and the smile grew wider when you took him in for a hug. Hugs were usually something Spencer wasn’t accustomed to, but he could never pass one up when it came from you.

Your arms wrapped around Spencer’s neck, your fingers lightly caressing the back of his nape making a shiver go down his spine. Spencer’s free hand went to rest on your lower back, his fingers copying your movements with his thumb caressing the fabric of your sweater, this is exactly what he needed to get through the day.

“Oh, don’t forget dessert.”

Before Spencer had a chance to question what you meant, your hands cupped his cheeks and Spencer froze as you peppered light kisses over his face. His eyes blinked rapidly as he took it in, his cheeks now on fire from the loving act.

Spencer watched as you waved at him goodbye and walked out the door, feeling as if his feet were glued to the floor as he wasn’t able to move. His gaze stuck to the doorway you departed from, hoping you’d perchance run back in for one last kiss.

Spencer felt a slap on his back and nearly jumped on the spot from the sensation, then hearing a familiar chuckle belonging to Derek and a sigh parted his lips, knowing what was bound to come next.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, player.”

You can find my masterlist here! Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[kingkaisen]

TELL ME || Levi A.

even during the battle to end the rumbling, levi can’t help but think about you.

“Tell me, Y/N . . . Are you proud of me? Or are you disappointed? Did I fight hard enough? Could I have done more?”

Unanswered questions continued to appear in Levi’s mind as he glanced down at the blood splattering onto his fingertips, dripping from his mouth.

“Will I see you again someday? How long do I have to wait until I can know the answer to that?”

The pain in his leg was horrific. Awful. Indescribable — there weren’t any words in existence that could accurately detail the burning, aching sensation that made him wish he could chop off his own leg to escape the misery.

Even so, as one or two of his comrades held onto his limp body — he couldn’t tell who or how many, thanks to his blind eye — he did nothing but cough up blood.

“If I died today, I wouldn’t mind. Not if I get to see you again. I promised you that I’d always keep fighting — that’s what I said, right? I wish I didn’t make that promise, because I’m tired. I’m tired. I’m tired . . .”

As Levi rode on the back of Falco’s winged titan form, he realized something.

The pain in his leg was nothing compared to the agonizing heartache he felt every second of every day since he watched you die.

He hated himself for falling in love.

He hated himself for not being strong enough to save you.

Being known as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier felt like an utter joke. Like he was being mocked.

It was all he could think about as he looked down at the kids — no, they were adults now — fighting titans on Eren’s skeleton-like form, desperately attempting to stop the rumbling.

It was like he raised them. You both did.

But you didn’t get a chance to see them grow.

If you were still around, you would have known that Connie did indeed get taller. You won that bet. Levi owed you a new tea set, as he thought that the hilarious kid would stay the same height forever.

You didn’t witness Armin start to come out of his shell a bit, either. He was the commander now, could you believe that?

The shy kid who you thought of as a son — who followed you around like a lost puppy during his early days as a scout — was now Levi’s boss. And the colossal titan. How silly.

Jean had turned out to be a great leader as well, fighting for humanity instead of for himself. You would have been proud.

He only grew out his hair because you weren’t around to help him trim it. He could do it on his own, but he didn’t want to. Not without you.

Mikasa was exceptional then, and she was exceptional now. You were the only person she trusted to wash her scarf whenever she was too busy to get around to it.

Reiner and Annie were fighting too.

Everyone was fighting. All to stop the rumbling.

Even if it meant killing Eren.

“Could you do it, Y/N? Could you have helped us take Eren’s life?” Levi wondered.

You wouldn’t have supported the rumbling. That was a fact. Even so, you adored that kid, almost as if you were possessed by Carla’s ghost.

And he adored you too.

Your death was one of the horrific events that pushed Eren to this unspeakable point.

Both Eren and Levi witnessed it.

A titan snacking on your body as if you weren’t a person, but grapes at a picnic. Both of them were too weak to stop it.

They could only watch. Watch as you were eaten alive.

—

When the fight ended, your face was among the many ghosts staring at Levi. His old comrades were all satisfied. He didn’t have to fight anymore. He could just live.

But he couldn’t rest.

That came later. It came when Levi was an old man, sitting alone in his wheelchair at his favorite place in Marley to stare out at the glistening water with his one decent eye.

Old age claimed his life as the sun started to set, its beautiful orange rays shining over the water.

And you were waiting for him. You and all of his old comrades.

He pushed himself right out of his wheelchair. He could walk again. He could see again. He was young again.

His wrinkly skin melted away. His gray hair was once again black. His scars no longer existed.

Slowly, he walked towards you, the love of his life. The person he never got a chance to grow old with. Start a family with. Experience peace with.

When he wrapped his arms around you, holding you after so many years of trying and failing to remember what it felt like to touch you, he knew that he could finally rest.

[darkeralmond]

A BARE WHITE WALL

conrad fisher x fem! reader

summary: y/n has just broken up with conrad and has finally decided to strip the photos off her, now, blank, white wall

warnings: angst, accidental pregnancy, mentions of abortion, language, could be triggering for some so please read cautiously

a/n: hey guys, this one is a bit dark so imma keep this a/n short. this was based off jonny reprise by faye webster. requests are open and thank u all for supporting

word count: 779

the wall was now bare, multiple squares of dust scattered along the white paint. in your room was now a cardboard box filled with framed pictures of you and conrad, ready to be discarded.you closed your eyes as the memories held from those pictures flooded into your mind.

“i’ve managed to decorate every part of this room except this area here,” you said as you flipped the facetime camera to the bare white wall with a dresser in the middle. “any ideas?”

conrad hummed in thought, his pen still squiggling notes into his thick notebook. “you could print out pictures and frame them. i know we especially have a lot.” he then glanced up, and even though the camera wasn’t on your face, you knew it was meant for you.

and now staring at this wall, bare with both life and happiness, your memories began to fade into the distance. it was over. you and conrad were over. you look down at your stomach, the lump in your throat threatening to escape through cries.

nights were miserable as you lingered in the silence. you body asleep, but your mind awake. it was like sleep paralysis, except the demons are flashes of conrad. he was smiling, laughing, picking you up and spinning you around. it was more terrifying than any monster tried to be.

“i’m not on the pill,” you shyly say, your barely clothed body sprawled out on the mattress. “are you sure this is a good idea?”

“don’t worry, babe,” he said as he reached deep in his pocket and pulled out a condom wrapper. “we’ll be careful.”

who knew it would rip? how could one even notice the rubber ripping when the pleasure overrode everything? now, you were alone. no baby, no conrad, no one.

“conrad?” your voice was shaky, looking at the road straight ahead.

he looked over at you, his smile fading as he reached for your hand. “what’s the matter, y/n?” he gripped onto your hand tightly, hoping to get you to open up to him. your eyes were glossy with tears, and you knew if you looked at him now that they would fall. your heart was racing, the car’s air became stuffy making it impossible to breathe. “look at me, please?”

slowly, you turned your head staring at him. though you didn’t say anything, he knew. his face changed from concern to fear. his grip on your hand loosened, and he slowly pulled it away. he pulled away. “shit.”

you looked back down at your lap as drops of tears landed on your thighs. “i took a test this morning,” you whispered just loud enough for him to hear. if you said it any louder, it would cause you to break down in tears.

“i’ll buy you a plan b,” he said desperately, but you shook your head.

your voice raised as you firmly stated, “i’m pregnant, conrad!” you look back at him watching as he descended into panic. “plan b won’t work.”

“you’re gonna have to do something,” he desperately pleaded. “i-i need to go to med school. i can’t be a dad!”

“we, conrad! we have to do something!” you yelled. “this is our responsibility now!” it fell silent in the car, only the sound of both of your breathing filled the air. not even the rhythms of your breaths aligned. you two didn’t align.

you sobbed, covering your face with your hands. you hoped the void would pull you into its darkness. it would be the perfect escape from whatever dark hole your breakup with conrad had put you in. no more facetime calls, no more laughter, no more photos.

“why couldn't you be ready?” you whispered through tears.

being a parent was a huge responsibility neither of you were ready for, that’s not what you were asking him to do. you weren’t asking him to throw away his savings to raise a baby with you. you were just asking him to be ready to handle the situation as a couple, together.

you were ready to take on the world with the two of you. it was you and him against the world. at least it should’ve been. now? it’s just you against the entire world, and you felt so small.

it was you and the white bare wall with squares of dust from the photo frames. you felt so small. you against a million thoughts in your mind, too small to store all of them.

just like the photos in the small cardboard box, your mind was overflowing with memories, questions, a future that would never come.

goodbye, conrad.

goodbye all the memories you two shared.

[diamondsunbursts-and-marblehalls]

The first real conversation Katniss has with Peeta is when he tells her that he wants to die as himself, that he doesn't want the games to change him into something he's not, and that he wants to keep his identity and prove he's more than just a piece in their games because that's the only thing he has left to care about.

The first time we see Lucy Gray she sings a song that basically says that nothing they could take from her was worth keeping. "Can't take my past. Can't take my history... You can't take my charm. You can't take my health."

The capitol has taken everything from them both, but at the same time, they could never take away who they are.

They are both likeable charismatic and funny, with the kindest hearts, and incredibly loyal to the people they care about.

At the same time, everything they do before the games, and during is calculated. Lucy Gray singing a love song and winning the hearts of the capitol. Peeta confesses he's in love with his district partner, therefore cementing her identity as desirable. Both of them know how to sway people with words, how to charm people, and how to manipulate crowds. Neither of them has any problem doing so to keep themselves, and the people they love safe.

Lucy Gray's song The Old Therebefore, about learning how to love and live her life to the fullest before death, a final and calculated stroke in a last-ditch effort to save herself from the arena. This evokes enough emotion in the watchers to get them to rise to their feet and plead for her life alongside Snow.

Snow, watching the 74th and preparing for the 75th Hunger Games sees Lucy Gray in Katniss. A young girl, from the 12th district. Unafraid at the reaping. Selling a false love story, manipulating a boy who loves her in order to get out and supporting the revolution with the mockingjay as her symbol.

He threatens her family to get her to sell that she and Peeta are in love, to prevent the revolution, because obviously, she's pretending. He's had experience with a girl just like her before. He has no doubt that she has the acting ability to sell this story because clearly, she manipulated the first Hunger Games in her favor, the same way Lucy Gray manipulated him.

Watching the interviews for the 75th Hunger Games he realizes-

Katniss is just an impulsive girl, in a Mockingjay dress she didn't know about, made by someone who supports the revolution.

Peeta is a boy who has the ability to move people with just his words. He made Katniss desirable, he was the one who sold the love story, and he was the one to make their romance seem real. Katniss only started the revolution because she would rather risk dying with him than live without him. A concept President Snow was completely unfamiliar with. And it is with all these realizations crashing around him Peeta drops the baby bomb. He knows the baby's not real, and so does Snow. But it evokes enough emotion in the watchers to get them to rise to their feet and plead for the lives of the tributes.

Is it Lucy Gray or Peeta?

By the time Snow realizes he's made a mistake, it's too late.

Peeta is still charming and manipulating the capitol. Katniss is in love.

He goes up against a kindhearted boy expecting to beat Sejanus again, only to find out that it's Lucy Gray he's fighting; knowing he will never be able to escape their ghosts.

-from a conversation i had with @grandtyphoonpoetry breaking down every character in the hunger games.

[thewitchblue]

"Are you looking for something?"

You asked Damian innocently. Damian looked unamused at what you may be holding behind your back, but now he was curious and couldn't focus back on the case he was trying to solve prior to your arrival. He said,

"Of course not. I misplace nothing."

You leaned against a nearby wall and said while holding his baby nephew with raise eyebrows,

"I found this on the streets on my walk here."

Damian had forgotten he was technically supposed to be babysitting. The baby was so silent that Damian had assumed he was asleep. He should have been checking, but he was so absorbed into the case that he neglected his nephew. Why didn't he cry? Why did the little escape artist run away? Babies love Damian, and he's a great babysitter.

"If we were anywhere except Gotham, I would be in prison for kidnapping."

You said as you passed over the baby to Damian, who took him so gingerly it melted your heart. He really loved his little nephew.

"Please don't tell Dick."

He said in a pleading tone while rocking the baby gently in his arms to put him to sleep for a nap. You were genuinely surprised he wanted to continue babysitting after letting the kid crawl away. However, you knew Dick needed babysitters desperately, and Damian had been doing a great job otherwise. Then again, you are in Gotham, and who knows what could happen to a baby on the streets. You sighed and said,

"Just... don't let it happen again. Maybe you need time away from the BatCave while babysitting."

Damian nodded. Was the baby looking for Dick and wanted to crawl all the way to Bludhaven to see him? Damian was curious about what the baby was thinking when he escaped him. Damian looked at his case file with a final look before closing everything he's worked on after saving it and leaving the cave with the baby in his arms.

He walked into the nursery with you trailing behind him. You liked seeing Damian with a baby. He always loves visiting the NICU at the hospital, and you often catch him there during his breaks.

"Mother always made it seem like I was made to continue the bloodline. I was to marry within the assassin clans as a peace offering and sire an heir to the throne should I be killed in combat."

His voice was so soft and weary. All the fire within Damian had been extinguished into a candle flame. You pulled him into a hug after he set down the now sleeping baby. You murmured to him,

"I'm sorry, darling. You can always talk to me."

Damian nodded, but he was still sorrowful as he thought about the childhood he lost through all the seemingly pointless fighting. Good, bad, did it ever really matter? Damian wasn't sure.

Spending time in the hospital, with the victims of these crimes, has changed his perspective. These are people. These are real people with real trauma, and many who ask for him to remove their life support to end their suffering. What if they are the reason behind all this suffering?

The villains are getting what they want: attention. They are getting their fame and enjoying the suffering of others to achieve it. Is Batman making it better or worse? Sure, the small criminals who turn to crime out of desperation are terrified, but the big villains? They want his attention, and they will continue to escalate until they are either dead or unable to do anything except scheme.

Bruce will be fighting until he dies, and Damian used to admire that. He used to want that lifestyle. Damian was supposed to be a potential heir to the cowl, but he doesn't want it anymore. He's not fighting for it. It feels like everybody else is running away from the cowl as well. The others seem to think Gotham needs a Batman to keep it safe, but are they sure they want to continue this endless fight?

Damian doesn't want to be a hero anymore. He doesn't want to inherit the cowl. He wants to live a normal life, and he wants to be happy. He wants to be able to relax and sleep easy at night. He wants to love you without messy consequences and thousands of setbacks. He wants to trust people outside of just fighting. He wants so much more in life. His work at the hospital is the only thing normal about him, and that fact scared him. His friends aren't normal, his family isn't normal, and not even school was normal for him because he was smarter than everybody in the building. Is this why Tim wanted to date a civilian? Because he also craves normalcy?

These thoughts keep him up at night until he inevitably calls you to ask if you can spend the rest of the night with him "just for tonight." And then another night. And then another night. He likes to imagine his arms soothed you as much as yours soothed him.

You eventually bought Damian a teddy bear for the sleepless nights to replace you when you are unavailable, but he had pretended it was insulting and gave the first one away to the baby. You suggested a build-a-bear date with just you and him, but he rejected it.

You still went, but that's because Jason overheard and said he's been meaning to get some toys for the street kids, then Dick tagged along with the baby obviously, who then forced Tim into it after saying Valentine's Day is coming up. It's not, but Tim was dragged along anyway after Dick started weaponising pride month.

You looked at Damian warmly. You managed to get him a teddy bear anyway but gifted it to him in private the second time. The others didn't see you buy the bear for him, and they still don't know about it. He was sentimental enough to keep the bear, and you even had fun making it.

You lightly kissed Damian's forehead while looking at the baby. You loved this family. You met Damian at the hospital when you were both volunteering. You volunteered in the Labour and Delivery unit that day and spotted him staring at the babies with an unguarded fondness. He adores every one of them, and he misses them when they leave with their families. He even genuinely considered kidnapping a couple to raise by himself when the families seem to be awful people. You stayed by his side through the years and into his residency at the same hospital he started in. You looked between Damian's soft expression and the sleeping baby.

"Isn't he beautiful, darling?"

You murmured to him while taking his hand in yours with a warm smile. Damian nodded with a fond expression on his face as he pulled you into his arms gently. He won't admit it, but he's a little jealous of Dick. He has a family outside of the crazy Batfamily. This baby means the world to Dick, and Damian wants a family like that. He wants a beautiful family without the chaos of both sides of his own. He wants to be normal. Damian wants his forever with you.

Damian's arms around you tightened slightly when you kissed him. This is perfect. You were his first relationship, and you will be his final relationship. He will make certain of that. He will not be letting you go anytime soon.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey I liked your writing on reader having to get in between Wolverine and Deadpool all the time 😆 it made me think what it would be like if they were crushing on you and there is a rivalry between them. If you could write what they’d do to win your favor or what shenanigans that would come with it 😂 subtle or not

These two weren’t fond of sharing.

So when the other finds that they have similar feelings towards you, the outcome is never good.

They’re childish in a way where if either Logan or Wade was coincidentally standing too close to you, the other was bound to notice and make a scene out of it, all the while you wished you were anywhere else in that moment.

The pair couldn’t get along even if they bothered to try as sooner or later they’d end up stabbing each other just because the other one was breathing too loudly or just merely existing.

And yet their feelings towards you ends up causing Logan and Wade to butt heads more often, especially if you were constantly teaming up together, with you often being their meditator in all their conflicts.

Wade was more vocal and borderline flirty when it came to interacting with you, he would crack jokes, boop you on the nose or even playfully smack you on the ass just to hear your yelp in surprise and become all flustered.

‘Plush ass you’ve got there, babe! wouldn’t mind laying my head on it sometime and use it as a beautiful fluffy pillow.’ - Wade, skipping away.

Wade could be quite clingy at times so there would be moments where you can barely escape the guy as he hanging on your side like a koala bear.

You: Wade can you let go.

Wade: and let go of my emotional support person? *gasp* Do you want me to die?

You: well considering how fast you regenerate, you technically can’t die-

Wade: do you hate me? Do you think I’m clingy?

You: no- well yes but-

Wade: you hate me!

Wade can be dramatic and the only way to shut him up is to just let him be in close proximity of you and allow him to talk your ear off about how good a dog parents you’d be to Dogpool.

Dogpool is your weakness, you could never say no to Dogpool and Wade knows this like the back of his hand and will use this as leverage over wolverine.

After all It’s not like he has a version of himself that was an actual wolverine or maybe even a honey badger in yellow spandex. So Wade counts this as a win on his end.

Logan on the other hand would be more subtle with his approach, even though to Wade, Logan’s subtly was as an dopey cow standing in a field of grass with how the scruffier man tended to keep by your side protectively; so much so that he might as well start growling at every person who ever laid eyes on you in general.

He’s a guard dog of a man in every sense of the word but how that came to be was from a whole lot of trauma and loosing people he’s ever cared about, so needless to say he won’t act like he’s interested in you at first, his heart had been wounded about as much as his body has and even had the mental scars to prove it.

He’s lived a long life of pain, fighting, suffering and heartache. He’s not going to falter so easily until you did something that made him feel safe enough to fall for you.

Once he has however it was impossible to go about the mission without him always wanting to stand guard by your side when he sees someone he doesn’t fully trust, always using his body as a shield for your own as Logan knew he could handle much more punishment then you could. So he’d rather avoid you being grievously hurt by any means possible.

He’d probably scold you if you ever were hurt as he was afraid that he might loose you, yet his hands were gentle but firm as they worked to patch your wound so it’d heal properly.

Wolverine: you’re an idiot you know.

You: wow I really feel the love over here.

Wolverine: *huffs* you expect me to kiss your ass when what you did was reckless and could’ve killed you? *his hands linger on your own even long after he’s done patching you up as though committing your warmth to memory*

Logan is a secret softy who wouldn’t push you away if you were to ever fall asleep on him, he’d grumble but that’s about it.

He’d even toss you his jacket if you were to ever complain about being too cold or leave it somewhere for you to take yourself, again he’d act like he didn’t want you to but he actually did with how he almost smiled upon seeing you looking comfortable in his jacket.

Logan is evidently more subtle about his crush on you then Wade is, or so he’d likes to think but Wade can messily tell he’s smitten when he sees how Logan’s eyes were quick to follow you in a crowded room with protectiveness and adoration.

Wade: aww has our dear friend taken the stick out of your ass and you fell in love?

Logan: *growls* fuck off Wade.

Wade: *holds his hands to his lips and gasps* oh my gosh! You have! Me too!

Logan: *looks at him* you what?!

Wade: yeah cats out of the bag, I like them too wolvie. you’re not the only one to find them cute, how close minded of you seriously.

They can’t share to save their lives, I’ve mentioned this before but they genuinely can’t even if they tried because one is them was bound to get jealous and try to take you away from the other.

Wade: do you really want to be near me grumpy all the time? Yawn fest much.

You: stop riling him up, you’re making Logan mad. Why are you like this?

Wade: maybe because you deserve to be in the company of someone who isn’t still unhealthily hung up on his previous red headed lover.

Logan: you shut your fucking mouth.

Wade: see! He’s not denying it!

You: I’m going to go now. *leaves*

Logan: you should make full time fuck head your job.

Wade: and you should make full time teenage brooder in a full grown man’s body who still isn’t over his first breakup yours.

The shenanigans that would occur between these two would be headache inducing to say the least.

The constant fights that would break out between them that you’d have to break up.

The bickering over who gets to act like a couple with you on missions. They might even play rock, paper, scissors multiple times behind your back.

Wade probably tried to trip Logan up in front of you once but it backfired when Logan made Wade trip up instead as he puts a hand on your lower back and guided you away from the poor Merc with a mouthful of dirt.