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peoniesnro · 4 months ago

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Perfect Partner | Sequel 1

Synopsis - You wake up in an unfamiliar apartment, next to your so-called AI boyfreind Jeongguk, only to realize you're trapped.

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre- Yandere | Dark Romance

Warnings- Since you all told me that I can totally tag this under yandere, I'm going to do that. (Kidnapping/ Obsessive Love/ Jeon is delusional (He's a psychopath)/ Jeon is a sweet asshole/ Possesiveness/ Betrayal/ Infidelity/ Soft manipulation/ Toxic behaviours/ Reader is broken.) No smut for this part but it's going to be there in the future.

Word count- 9K

a/n- My initial plan was to write just a part two, but it ended up being too long. So, I decided to break it into a few chapters. This is the first sequel, and I'll write a prequel next to give you insight into what happened in the past. After that, I'll release another sequel to continue the story from here. (Hope you won't mind) And thank you sososossoooooo much for the love you've shown for Perfect Partner. (I love you all ❤️)

DON'T BLAME ME

This is the sequel, read the first part here -

Perfect Partner

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

You stir awake slowly. Eyes remaining closed as your senses begin to return. And the first thing you become aware of is the way your head pounds violently. It throbs as though your skull might split open. A soft whimper escapes your lips.

Why are you in so much pain?

What the hell happened that you’re feeling such a severe headache?

You scrunch your face in a futile attempt to ease the pain. Another soft groan escapes you. And you make the grave mistake of opening your eyes. You open your eyes slowly and sensually. Feeling how heavy your eyelids are. But a sharp pain shoots across your head the moment a faint white light reaches your vision. This time as if a spear impaled your skull. Right between your eyes. That’s where the pain starts and shortly after your entire head is in an unbearable agony.

You whimper loudly before closing your eyes back. Mentally cursing yourself for trying to open them in the first place. Try to turn into your side in hope the pain would subside when a sudden voice reaches you. Making you freeze.

“Oh, you’re awake?”

A voice that is deep and baritone. Groggy and husky. Soothing and warm. Then you feel some movements. It all happens fast. The voice and the feeling of the mattress dipping next to you. You shoot your eyes open disregarding the pain. It’s a reflex. A strange sensation washes over you. A fear. Fear that’s so intense it numbs you. You don’t try to move or turn your head. Or you don’t get a chance to do so. Just as you open your eyes back, you’re met with someone. Blurry. Hazy.

“How are you feeling pretty?”

Pretty?

Your sight finally clears. Your eyes zero on a face.

Pretty………….

Hi pretty!

A voice rings in your head. Repeatedly. One word.

Pretty.

Fragments of memories start to flash in front of your eyes. Voices. Images. A man. An AI. Perfect Partner. Gifts. Hoseok. Fear. You can practically feel the same fear. Terror. Daebi’s birthday. Your apartment. Your phone- destroyed. A fight with a stupid AI character.

Stupid AI character!

Jeongguk. A sharp yet shaky breath lodges inside your lung, painfully. Jeongguk. Your perfect partner. An AI character who you’ve been so smitten over until you weren’t. Jeongguk. A perfectly coded program that knew exactly how to make you feel good. Jeongguk. That godly man with a tattooed hand and piercings.

Jeongguk….

Jeongguk…

Tattoos.

Piercings.

You blink at the brown eyes peering at you. A thin layer of sweat coats your entire body. The familiar yet excruciating fear engulfing you whole. Your eyes naturally wander over the strange face that keeps staring at you with wide eyes, faster than lightning. Brown eyes. Chiseled nose. Pink lips.

A Lip ring.

Your breath hitches in a bad way. You look back at his eyes. Eyebrows. One brow is pierced.

Piercings.

Jeongguk.

It’s ridiculous how your brain takes that much time to realize everything. To recover everything. To identify the person in front of your eyes who’s so close to you that you can feel his breath. Like a sudden slap everything registers inside your mind. And when it does, a loud alarm goes on inside your brain. Your sight turns blurry again as the terror makes your breath catch in your throat. Still you manage to let out a tangled scream as your flight or fight reflexes finally activate. You try to sit abruptly as a flash, hands coming to push away the person who is hovering over you. You really don’t have a plan. All you know is the urge to run away. Get away from this person who couldn’t be here in theory. He’s supposed to be a programmed character.

Yet he is here. And all you can do is try your best to run away. That’s your plan, which quickly turns into a failure when you’re pushed back into the bed before you could even sit back properly.

“Don’t- don’t move so fast.” His voice reaches to you as if it's coming from a distance. “You’ll get sick if you-” You try your utmost best. You thrash in his hold. Twisting your hands. Kicking your legs. “- Fucking stay still (___), you’ll worsen your headache.” He pins you down into the mattress. Gets on top of you in one quick movement. Holds your both wrists pinned above your head. His legs tangled with yours so you could no longer even move them let alone kick.

No. Oh God no! This isn’t happening.

Your tangled screams turn into muffled sobs. You absolutely hate how tears start to roll down your cheeks instantly. You’re showing weakness. And your body is growing weak alongside your mind. Yet still you try to move at least. It doesn’t work. The guy is ten times stronger than you. You can smell him. Something lavender. You can feel him. His breath. His weight. Everywhere. You feel sick.

“Please don’t.” You manage to croak out, finally. “Do-don’t. Let-let me..” Your own voice is unrecognisable to even you. Desperate. Pathetic. Helpless.

“Shh.. it’s okay princess. Calm down baby. Calm down.” His voice makes your skin prickle. Your muffled sobs turn into a wail. Despite how much you don’t like it, you start bawling like a child.

“Don’t touch me. Please don’t touch me. Let me go. Don’t-” You try to move one more time. Fail, yet again. “Don’t touch me.” Your body starts to shake. You watch how his eyes widen through your blurry gaze. “Le-let me go. Do-don’t touch please-” You feel his grip loosen. He takes a minute. Then abruptly gets off you. Sit back on his heels.

“Okay. Okay. Fuck. I’m not touching you. Don’t move too fast-”

You don’t give a fuck about what he says. The moment his hands and body are not on you, you jump into action again. This time you manage to sit back properly. Manage to get down from the bed you’ve been on. Manage to stand on your feet. Only just for a split second, however. Just as you stand up, your legs give up completely. Everything starts to go dark.Your body fails you entirely as you feel the way you start to sway to your left. You’d hit the ground any second now. But the impact never comes.

“Told you baby. You’re making it worse.”

You’re wrapped up in a pair of strong hands.

…………………………….

You lay in the silk comforters. Head propped up on two pillows. Soaked in your own sweat. Head violently pounding. Spinning. You’ve thrown up three times by now. Still you feel nauseous. There’s a metallic bitter taste lingering on your tongue. Your fingers feel numb. So do your legs. Everything feels like a nightmare to you. Nothing makes sense but you know it’s real. You woke up next to your AI character. Each and everything that happened to you was real. Your AI Jeongguk was real. And you’ve been kidnapped. He kidnapped you and now you’re a prisoner here.

The nausea intensifies tenfold at the realization. You’re trapped here. And you’re too weak to even consider running away. You tried and now look at you. Completely bedridden. It’s humiliating how your captor had to hold your hair back while you threw your guts out. Ridiculous how your captor was the one who carried you to the bed when you couldn’t make two steps without falling down.

Fresh tears start to roll down through your cheeks. You’re completely helpless and at his mercy. You want to be able to do something. To fight. Escape. What have you done in your previous life that you’re in this kind of situation? You twist the silk bed sheet around your fingers. Having no other way of unleashing your emotions. Anger. Despair. Fear. Sorrow.

The sudden sound of the door opening snaps you out of your melancholy. You instantly recoil in your spot. Back pressing into the mattress as you idly try to make yourself hidden from his view. Even closing your eyes shut as if it would help you to hide your shaking figure. Creating a false sense of protectiveness around you. It’s scary. Him. His place. Even his presence. It doesn’t matter how tidy and spotless this room is. How handsome he looks. How good he and this room smell. Nothing is enough to shake your fear away. You recoil even more as you hear his footsteps growing closer to you. Almost cover your face in the comforter when you feel his presence right next to you. Standing near the bed.

“Baby!” His voice is soothing. Warm and soft. Like the caress of a lover. If only that’s the case. You squeeze your eyes shut. Not wanting to look at your abductor. You hear him heave a heavy sigh. “C’mon, you need to eat something.” He mumbles. You keep your eyes closed. “Princess, you’re sick, and you need to eat something.” He repeats. And you feel your stomach churn.

Princess?

He acts like he cares about you with his whole heart and soul. Sick. He’s fucking sick.

Among all the emotions you’re feeling, you sense how anger rears its head above the rest.. You’re still very scared but you can't help but feel mad. What can go wrong anymore, anyway. You’ve already trapped here. So, you tilt your head to your side. Keep your eyes closed.

“Okay,” Jeongguk lets out an almost inaudible chuckle before you can hear him placing something on the nightstand. You guess it’s the food. Then you can feel him sitting next to you on the edge of the bed. Then silence. For a second, all you can feel is his presence. Then a sharp gasp leaves your mouth when you feel a rough hand on your face. Cups your cheeks. You open your eyes solely due to the fear at the same time Jeongguk turns your head toward him. Just like earlier, you’re met with his face so close to you. Instead of brown, glinting, innocent doe eyes, however, this time you’re peering into a pair of dark eyes that are shadowed by a dangerous dark cloud. Threatening and warning.

“You’re such a brat princess. I knew you were. Don’t be stubborn now,hm? You need energy. You need food,” Your breath hitch at his dangerous voice. Eyes starting to prick with new tears. Jeongguk’s features soften at that. “Look baby, I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll never hurt you. Won’t do anything to you.” He withdraws his hand. You immediately let out a breath of relief. Ignore the way his face tightens for a minute at that. But he fixes it immediately. “I won’t even touch you. See,” Shows his hands to you while he says that. “But,” Of course, there’s a but. “You need to be a good girl. Can’t have you die under my protection now, can we? That’s not why I brought you here. All I want is the best for you baby. So, don’t be stubborn now, will you? Just let me feed you.” He takes a tray from the nightstand, which is what he probably placed there earlier. “Let’s clean you up then and you’ll have a good sleep. Come morning, you’ll be all fine.” Gives you a soft and reassuring smile. His lip ring glistnes under the dim lighting of the room. “C’mon, sit up. Want me to help you?” Questions.

You just dumbly stare at him. How sweet he appears. How caring. And he always was. When you thought he was just a mere programme. Before he started controlling every movement of your life. Scared the shit out of you and ended up kidnapping you. Lied to you about a whole lot of things. Hell, your entire life is a lie. This sweet man in front of you is a lie. That smile is a facade. He’s a dangerous predator and you’re his prey. One wrong movement, he’ll break your neck. And you don’t want that. Despite everything, dying in his hands is the last thing you want.

You shake your head. You absolutely don’t want his hands on you. Even if it’s just to help you. You’ll use the last ounce of your strength to do things alone. So, you sit up with a great effort. He rushes to fix the pillow into a much more comfortable angle to you. You say nothing when he starts to feed you.

You’ll find a way out of here. Even though you have no idea where you are. You don’t even know what day it is or the time. There’s not a clock in here. You don’t know how long it has been since you were here. Missing from the outside world. Yet, you’ll figure it out. To do that, however, you’ll need your strength back. You convince yourself that’s the only reason why you’re greedily opening your mouth every time he brings the spoon near it. Nothing else. Not because the soup tastes heavenly and you’re starving. You don’t want his food. It’s just that you need strength.

……………………….

You didn’t want to comply with any of his requests. Or commands, you’ll say since none of them sounds like requests. He demanded that you eat. You did. He demanded that you bathe. You did. He demanded that you sleep. So, you did. Now when you’re awake, still lying on his comfy bed, he’s demanding you take some pills. You don’t want to do it. You don’t know what those pills are. And the longer you resist the harder his expression is turning.

He was beaming when you opened your eyes to find him sitting at the corner desk, staring at his computer. He seemed genuinely thrilled to see you awake again. But with every minute you refused to take the pills, his smile slowly faded. Replaced with a scowl and now he’s glaring down at you. You don’t like that look. A shiver runs through your spine.

“Now, what did I tell you princess?” He asks softly but you can hear the hidden warning.

“I-I’m f-fine. I- don’t w-want medicine.” You meekly try one more time. Jeongguk’s whole face turns grim. You don’t know what he’ll do. Panic floods your mind. You gulp harshly. You hate how you feel scared of this man. Paranoid. He hasn’t done anything except kidnapping you. Not yet anyway. He promised not to touch you and he hadn’t. He cooked for you, made sure you were clean, comfy, and warm. All of which are good things. But here you are afraid of him as if he’s the satan when he looks like an angel.

You raise a shaky weak arm up to take the pills in your hand. It’s not like he would drug you. You don’t know how he brought you here. Only things you can remember are the fear and your apartment. And his voice. The rest is dark. Maybe he drugged you then. Maybe hit you hard across your head. Or maybe it’s simply chloroform. But now though he has no reason to drug you again. You’re too weak anyway. And he himself told you that he doesn't want to cause any harm. You gulp down the pills in one go. Hoping it wouldn’t actually kill you. Look at Jeongguk expectantly. His expression doesn’t change a bit. But he simply nods and turns around to walk away. And your tongue betrays you before you can process it. His name leaves past your lips even without your knowledge.

“Jeongguk.” You mutter weakly. He halts. Turns around to face you. His expression is unreadable. You don’t know why you stopped him. So, you try to rake your brain for a good excuse when he saves you from the trouble.

“JungKook.” He states.

“Huh?” You blink at his face when finally his face softens. “It’s Jungkook pretty. My real name, it’s Jeon Jungkook.” He explains.

Oh!

Of course, he lied. Not that you care anyway. Why would you? You just nod in acceptance.

“Why?” You decide to ignore his disclosure. The question comes easily into your mouth. And Jeongguk- or now Jungkook looks genuinely surprised. You expect him to ask you to clarify the question. He doesn’t.

“Because I love you baby. I don’t want you to hurt anymore. Wanted to protect you. You’re safe here with me. Besides, you gave me no other option. You were becoming too stubborn and you lied to me. When I did my best, you lied to me baby.” Jungkook peers down at your figure on his bed. You feel new tears forming in your eyes again. You’re too tired. You can’t cry anymore. But you can’t help it either. Jungkook is talking about kidnapping you as if it’s such a normal thing. He reasons with you about how fair that is. He tells you that he did it because he loves you. He’s insane—completely and utterly insane.

“I didn’t want to scare you and bring you here this way. I had a plan. And you ruined it because you had to lie to me and go after your shitty friends and ex again. I had to do something before you hurt yourself again. I’m sorry I scared you baby,” He smiles softly again. You bite the inside of your cheeks to prevent yourself from crying. “But that’s okay now. You’re safe and I’ll make sure of it.” He turns around again. Leaves the room.

A fresh sob erupts from your throat.

You’re trapped with a psychopath.

…………………………..

It had taken a week. An entire week for you to recover from whatever agonizing sickness you went through. You couldn’t even move alone without Jungkook’s help, let alone thinking about running away. Yet you plotted your escape anyway. While you were resting on the bed for twenty four hours, you planned every miniscule detail of your grand escape. Until you end up with no plan on the seventh day where you are finally able to walk without his help. It’s not that your plans are stupid. No. Simply that each and every plan you come with requires a moment where Jungkook isn’t home. And after a close examination of a week, you realized that the chances of such a moment is likely zero.

The guy is always home. Every damn minute. You had waited until he’d finally go to work. He didn’t. Your best guess was that he works from home. That explains the amount of time he’s spending hunched over his computer. It’s surprising to you, how a complete computer nerd has that kind of body. Then you waited until he left the place for groceries or something. That didn’t happen either. And that makes all your plans futile.

Scary. The prospect of not being able to run away almost drains you out of your will to live. But you’re still hopeful. The opportunity might arrive anytime. Especially since you’ve gained your strength back again.

And you believe with your whole heart that people must be looking for you already. Daebi surely must have visited you the next day as she promised. You wonder if she has suspected anything right away. Maybe not. But still she must’ve tried to call you. You were friends for almost more than six years now. She knows you like the back of her hand. She would definitely know something is wrong. You guess she already did. Besides she knew you were paranoid about someone being in your place. Daebi is a smart woman and she must’ve picked up on the clues fast. You believe she has already paid a visit to the police station. You can imagine the ruckus she’s causing there. Demanding them to find you soon. See, you have hope. You know they’d come find you eventually. But still you won’t sit here prettily until that happens. You’ll try your utmost best to escape.

Besides, on the bright side, Jungkook hasn’t tried to harm you in any way. He has stuck to his promise and never even laid a finger on you. Except for the times he had to help you move around. And you didn’t protest at those times either since despite your strong will, your body didn’t comply with your mind. Other than that, the man has respected your wishes and your privacy fully. He hasn’t even slept in the same room as you. Somehow, you have managed to realise that it’s his room. But he has given it to you. You have no idea where he spent nights. Not that you care anyway. You really didn’t talk with him. He did. You listened. Or you didn’t do that either. Simply, you allowed him to ramble sometime while he fed you or helped you around. And as long as everything keeps happening in the same way, you can wait patiently until a perfect moment arises for you.

Yes. That moment will come and you will be out of here even before you know.

You give yourself a firm nod. Partially in determination and partially to brace yourself to do what you’re about to do. You place your hand slowly on the doorknob. This is the first time you’re about to step outside of this room. It’s not that you really want to do that. But firstly, you’re sick of looking at the same four walls for a straight week. Secondly, you need to have a better idea about the place you live in to be able to successfully escape. You haven’t seen Jungkook since this morning but you know he’s somewhere under the same roof as you.

You open the door slowly and quietly. Half expecting to stumble into a hidden trap or have something jump out at you. Nothing like that happens. You open the door completely and are met with a short hallway. Across from it you can see a living room. The entire place is eerily quiet. No sounds of anything except a distant buzz that you assume is a refrigerator. You slowly take a step forward. Then another. Still being very cautious of any sudden attacks. And make it to the living room without any hitch. His bedroom has looked lavish. You won’t lie. It’s comfortable and large. Even his bathroom is lavish. But now as you’re standing in his living room, you know certainly he’s rich. You don't know what his job is but for one thing, he must be earning six figures while working from home. Impressive. Perfect. Like how he portrayed himself in front of you. The Perfect Partner.

You let out a small breath. Taking in your surroundings. Minimalistic black and white interior. Comfy couch. State-of-the-art television. Everything looks lavish. You dart your eyes over every nook and corner, stopping in every detail until you spot what you’ve been looking for. The main door. Right across from you. You gape at the wooden barrier that keeps you hidden in this place. Isn’t it funny how it’s just a door and all you have to do is twist the knob? Aren’t you going to be free then? The temptation coils around your body like a serpent. Tightening painfully with every passing second. What would happen if you just started running toward that door? Just open it and break into a run for all that you are worth.

“I won’t even think about it, if I was you, pretty.” The sudden voice that comes from nowhere startles you so much that a yelp escapes your mouth. You whip around to find Jungkook casually standing behind you. How long has he been there? How come you didn’t hear anything? “It’s stupid and it could hurt you. You’re not even wearing proper clothes are you?” He adds while you stare at him with wide eyes.

“I-I-”

“It’s fine. I hope you’re not that stupid baby. You won’t break my trust again, will you?” Jungkook takes a slow step forward. You take one backward. He stops. “Will you?” Asks again. You shake your head almost instantly. Why the hell are you so afraid of this man? Well, you should be. Look where you are. “Good,” He smiles. That damn smile that makes his lip ring glistnes. That horrible smile that makes you shiver. Sweet. Sweet like venom. “I’ve been preparing you breakfast, wanna join me in the kitchen since now you can walk alone perfectly?” Raises his eyebrow in question. You take a moment. You don’t want to be near him. But you have to find a moment. An opportunity. You’ll not find it by scooping yourself inside his room. After a second of hesitation you nod.

………………………….

Days roll painfully slowly by you. Days spent patiently waiting for an opportunity that hasn’t arrived until now. Jungkook doesn’t leave his apartment just like you knew. He’s always there. He fascinates you at this point, truly. It’s like he possesses some secret powers to be able to do that. You’re wondering how he never faces any emergencies that require him to leave the place. Maybe that’s how unfortunate you are. Not getting the slightest of a chance to escape your luxury prison. And with every passing day, the light of your hope is growing duller and duller. You’re terrified of never getting a chance out of here. So you are afraid of anyone else never finding you ever again. It’s been more than two weeks since you've been here, but not a single person came ringing his bell saying they're here to check for a missing person.

The only people who rang his bell were the delivery men bringing his orders. Jungkook always made sure you’re out of their sight each time that happened. You don’t know why you obediently complied with him every time. Jungkook hasn’t done anything harmful to you until now. His promise is still going. Yet you find yourself terrified of him. All it takes is a scowl or straight face from him, you’re following his orders around like a little pet. You hate it. You hate yourself for being afraid of him. But for some reason you are. He may not have done any harm to you yet. That, however, doesn’t mean he’s incapable of that. There are millions of dangerous ‘what if’s going inside your brain every time you try to be a little rebellious. Which is the same reason why you’re reluctant to try on a new plan.

If Jungkook never leaves his place, that leaves you with only one option. Trying to escape while he’s still around. Extremely dangerous. If you succeed, then it’s fine. But if you don’t then that would be the end of you. You know for a fact that then Jungkook no longer would pretend to be the sweet boy he is. All starry eyes while he looks at you or the shy smiles. Sweet nicknames he uses for you or the innocent flirtings. They’d all drown under his anger and maybe he’ll break his promise then. Or he’d simply kill you. And for the record, you know you’re not a match for his strength if it ever comes to fighting him down. He’d definitely surrender you even before you properly start fighting. That leaves you hopeless. Helpless. Even the thought makes a lump form in your throat.

You swallow that lump as you focus on the man in front of you. Just happily fumbling around his kitchen like an innocent kitten. He truly does look like a bunny sometimes. Normal. Capable of deceiving anyone. Oh, how sick he makes you feel. Only if you could just hit him with something and run away. Maybe you can try. Can you? Are you capable of doing that? None of these would be a problem if he can just leave the place for a minute. Maybe he doesn’t trust you to leave you alone. Hell, he doesn’t even leave you to yourself when he showers. He made sure you’re locked inside a room while he used the guest bathroom. Not the room you slept in. And that room has a lock you’re incapable of finding how to unleash. He's a genius.

Smart motherfucker!

Well, then maybe you should play this smart. Pretend to like him. He surely acts like he’s so whipped for you. Maybe you can take advantage of that.

You perk up instantly. Now watching him with a newfound interest. He is in a white t-shirt and black slacks. His tattooed hand on display. His raven hair tousled after the shower he just had. Jungkook raises his head from the pot he’s been stirring. Probably sensing your stares. He gives you a soft smile. You try to reciprocate it but fail. You have no idea how you’re ever going to pretend to like him when your stomach churns whenever he’s too close to you.

He’s god damn handsome and that’s a given. Not even God himself would be able to argue. Jungkook is a piece of art. But still, he was the same person who put you through hell and now keeps you trapped here. And that makes him disgusting. You hate him. Completely. But you can’t let him know that. Right? You need to earn his trust. Then maybe he’ll leave you alone to yourself sometimes. Maybe he would trust you enough to not lock you in a room while he showers. So, you bite back the disgust you feel when he walks to you with a spoon in his hand.

He is making Sundubu Jjigae. Just because you said you wanted that for dinner when he asked. That’s the first thing that comes to your mouth. He brings the spoon to your mouth. You open your mouth without any reluctance. The rich broth invades your taste buds, almost making you hum in delight. You catch yourself just in time. He’s a very good cook, as you’ve come to know by now. See, he’d be a Perfect Partner if it wasn’t for the fact he's a psychopath.

You give him a nod in approval. “It’s good.” Mumble softly. You still don’t talk with him much. If you’re going to pretend to like him. Then that’d take so much work. Jungkook pouts.

“Good? That’s it? C’mon I need a perfect princess.” He walks back to the stove. “Should I throw it away and start over?” He looks at you. Eyes glinting. Yours go wide instantly. You straighten up in your stool. Head already shaking.

“No. No. I- I mean, it’s good. No- uh- it’s perfect Gu-” You shut your mouth immediately. Catching yourself. He’s not the Jeongguk you knew. And even if he is, you're not going to call him by nicknames. You feel nauseous. So much for pretending to like him. Jungkook’s face clouds by something grim for a minute before he smiles.

“Yeah?” Questions.

“Yes.” You confirm.

……………………………

You gaze out of the floor to ceiling windows of Jungkook’s living room. The night city bustles beneath you. According to your best guess, you’re at least fifteen floors high in this apartment building. That leaves you to imagine the ruckus it would cause you to reach the lobby if you manage to actually escape.

No, you shouldn’t think that way.

There’s no ifs. You’re going to escape and you’ll overcome every challenge as well. You shake your head to brush off any negative thoughts. You can always look at the bright side. At least he hasn’t taken you away from the country and your familiar city. That thought alone makes you feel a little at ease. There’s still hope. You let out a heavy sigh. Jungkook is playing a video game on his expensive TV behind you. You turn your head to take a brief glance at him. Just to make sure he’s still there. He sometimes walks around in the grace of a black panther. It always gives you heart attacks.

You look back at the outside again. Trying to imagine yourself walking among the thousands of people down there. Living a normal, busy life. Not someone’s personal amusement. You try to imagine freedom. The night air in your skin. You feel suffocated. Oh, how you wish to go outside just for a second. You’re really getting tired of this place. All you want is a one-

Your trail of thoughts get interrupted when you suddenly catch the reflection of Jungkook standing up through the window. You tense up like a bowstring, knowing very well he’d come to you. Just like you knew he lazily stalks toward you. Stands behind you. Closely. So closely that you can feel his breath on your neck. You force yourself to stay still.

If you want to pretend you like him, then you need to start somewhere.

“What is it, princess?” He mumbles sweetly. Eyes trailing past you to look at what you’ve been looking at. You almost shake your head to say it’s nothing. It doesn’t matter how bad you need to start somewhere, you don’t wish to engage in conversation with him much. It’s like a reflex. How you’re ready to run away from him. But you bite back the urge. You inhale deeply.

“Ca-can we g-go outside?” You blurt out before you can back out again. Jungkook’s eyes flicker to your reflection. Your eyes meet. “I- I mean with you of course. I- I feel like I’m getting cabin fever.” You breathe out. Jungkook says nothing. Just watches you intently. This is the most you’ve talked with him. He looks a bit surprised as well. He takes his sweet time. For a minute, it seems like he would say yes. Even a tiny bubble of hope builds inside you when it just pops out at his next words.

“I’m sorry, pretty, but no.”

You can’t help it. You absolutely can’t help how a sudden flash of anger washes through you. Weeks of frustration get to you all at once. You turn around to face him at light speed.

“Why not?” You grit your teeth.

“Because it’s not safe yet.” He answers calmly. If he notices the way your mood swings, he doesn’t show it. A strained laughter escapes you.

“When will it be safe then?” You question again. He doesn’t answer. And his silence makes you lose your patience. “You fucking can’t keep me trapped here forever Jungkook. You fucking can’t do this to me. You-” You feel your eyes prick with tears. “You fucking can’t treat to me like I’m your pet. I’m a person and- and why are you doing this to me?” You swear that you didn’t plan on crying. But the tears start to roll down as your voice cracks. Interrupted by petty sobs. “Why me?” You muffle your cries with your palm. Jungkook takes a tentative step back. Eyes wide.

“No, what?” Then he takes that step forward again. His hands grab you tightly by your shoulders. “Why would you ever think you’re trapped here (___), I already told you, I won’t do anything to harm you.” He squeezes your shoulders. In your overwhelmed state you just allow him. “I- oh, gosh princess, you’re not a prisoner here. What’s mine is yours. Consider this your home. You’re not trapped and you’re not a pet. Don’t twist things. You know I love you and I’d do anything for you.” One of his hands leaves your shoulder just to cup your face. Softly. He lifts your face upward to look at him. “Do you understand me baby? You’re not trapped.”

You blink your tears back. He’s so fucking sick. Look at the things he’s talking about. And you know showing him you’re weak isn’t going to be any help to you. You bring a shaky hand to place on his chest. Push him away weakly. He gets the hint. His hands fall limp beside him.

“Then why can’t I go outside? You brought me here without my consent Jungkook, that’s fucking kidnapping. And-” You inhale a shaky breath. You’re still very much afraid of him. But you’ll talk to him while you can. Before your fear will make you go back into your shell again. “You say you love me? After all the shit you put me through? Guess what Jungkook-” You feel the anger burning through you. “You don’t love me, you’re just sick and I fucking hate you!” You shout through the top of your lungs.

And it all happens so fast. The hurt slash across Jungkook’s eyes before they darkened with a dangerous gloom. Your words echo through the apartment before everything falls into a deadly silent state.

Then even before you know it, your back hits the glass behind you with a loud thud. Jungkook’s hand cupping your cheek so damn tight this time that an involuntary whimper leaves you. He turns your head so you’re looking dead in the eye with him. His body pressing against yours, completely caging you between him and the window.

“Take that back.” He growls. Is so close to you that you’re practically sharing one breath. His breath tingles your face. “Take that fucking back (___).” He shakes your face. His grip is too tight. You don’t know why you’re crying now. Is it because of the tight grip or the fear? Your body instantly turns limp. Useless. “You don’t mean it. You don’t hate me. Take it back.” Jungkook’s dangerous grumble turns into a shaky, breathless whimper. “Please.” You look at the hurt in his eyes with teary eyes. Your heart beating in your throat and your entire body trembling. You had thought he hit you or something. But now when the situation makes sense to your brain, you’re desperately trying to calm down. Not to die from a heart attack. “Take that back baby, please.” He pleads again. His tight grip on you, however, is a stark contrast to his pleading words.

“I-” You don’t know what you should say. You’ve ruined your plan even before you start it. You’ve said you hate him. Now your chances to gain his trust will be zero. There’s no reason to pretend anyway. You brace yourself to keep talking. Disagree with him. Consequences be damned. “You wouldn’t do this to me if you loved me, Jungkook.” Despite your best efforts, your voice comes out shaky. “If you really care, you would let me go.” You’re trying to persuade him. There’s a slim chance that it’d work. “I need to live a normal life. I-” Your words get cut off when Jungkook suddenly chuckles. He rests his forehead against you.

“Yeah? And let you go after your shitty ex again. And watch him break your heart all over again?” His grip finally loosens. He starts caressing your cheek with his thumb, instead. Surprisingly, you find yourself a little bit less disgusted. “No thanks baby. I won’t go through that hell again.” He breathes out. You close your eyes shut when you feel that breath on your lips. “It’s funny, actually. How you never saw what you have. We’re not that different. We both always wanted what hurts us the most. You never saw how I always loved you. Then you ask me why I did it? I did it because you won’t see it any other way. I just love you so much I’ll do it all over again, if I have to. I won’t just accept the defeat this time and watch you go after some loser just to get your heart broken again baby. No. Not again.”

You shoot open your eyes.

What did he say?

Again?

Always loved you?

What does he mean, again? How long has he been knowing you? A new fear makes you shiver. A sense that there’s more to this than meets the eye engulfs you. You want to question him about that. But something tells you that you will not like the answers. So, you keep quiet when he finally withdraws from you. He wipes your tears away.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this princess, but I have no other options.” He steps away from you completely. “If you hate me, then I won’t mind. You’ll learn to love me one day too. Until then let’s see how things go.” He turns around. Then stops. “When the time is right, I’ll take you out. A date maybe.”

……………………..

You stopped trying to do anything again. No more requests. No trying to pretend because you know you suck at that. Just cautiously watching him. Letting days pass by. With no opportunity to do anything except to keep yourself as far away from Jeon Jungkook as possible. Until today. This very moment.

You perk up as a knock comes on the door. It’s just another lazy but alarming day of watching him cook for you. Jungkook stops chopping cabbage. He already knew the delivery was coming. You eye him wearily as he washes his hands, gives you a soft smile and leaves the kitchen. Even these kinds of short moments give you solace. You almost drop your head into your palms when you suddenly notice it. The sleek black device on the kitchen counter. Jungkook’s phone. You straighten up immediately.

Among your many plans, trying to call someone always has been a first. Only that you never got a chance. You haven’t found any device that you can use for communication except for his phone. And obviously he keeps it with himself. Every damn time. Even when he showers. Today, however, is an exception it seems. You eye the phone on the kitchen island. Your heart beats in your throat.

He has forgotten it for sure. He doesn't allow chances for you to try anything funny. Hell, at this rate you’re sure you won’t even get a chance to escape even if he leaves you alone in this apartment. You know he’d lock you inside that damn room with that smart locking system. Jungkook controls that shit with his mobile. You know he has installed that lock in that specific room just to keep you inside. All the other rooms and doors are normal. You’ve seen it. Even the main door is normal. You know it requires a password to enter but you can freely walk out. Like a normal door would.

Maybe this would be the only chance you get. You can call someone. Or text someone. Jungkook has just gone to open the door for another delivery. But it’ll take some time. If you hurry- it’s just enough time. You lick your dry lips. Your head is pounding with indecision.

Oh, you have to at least try.

You need to do something. Being a prisoner here forever isn’t an option.

Time is ticking and you’re losing your precious opportunity.

You slide down from the stool as you slowly make it toward the phone. Your ears are ringing. Cold beads of sweat start to appear on your forehead. Your breathing comes out as shallow pants. You stand still before the phone.

There it is. Just a lifeless device. It won’t start screaming when you grab it. All you have to do is just call someone quickly. You throw a nervous glance to the doorway. He isn’t here yet. But he would be any minute.

You need to fucking hurry!

You grab the phone at almost light speed. Throwing caution to the wind, you press the power button, revealing the lock screen. You swipe the screen. In a blind hope that it wouldn’t be password protected. A disappointed sigh leaves you when the screen changes for password input. Of course, who were you kidding? He has a smart locking system and you thought he wouldn’t add a password for his device? How stupid can you be?

A low curse slips through your lips as your brain starts to run a mile a minute. Swirling around different possibilities as to what could be his password. You’re at a loss. You know nothing about him. Almost three weeks with him yet you never even bothered to know anything about him beyond his name. You don’t know his birthday. Age. You don’t know about his family. Anything that could lead you up to a possible guess. You groan as you force your brain to come up with something.

His age? Do you know that? Have you ever knew it? You wander through your memory lane. Maybe you could find a hint if you think about your time with him before this. When you thought he was just an AI. His bio. He obviously lied to you about his name but what about his age. He had that on there. It takes you a split second to remember it. You can clearly remember he was older than you. And you think you can recall his age as well.

Yes, that’s it.

The combination requires four numbers and you guess it’s the year. You do a quick calculation in your mind.

1997

You enter the numbers with trembling fingers, praying to god that it’d be the right one.

Password incorrect!

You clutch the phone tightly. Almost enough to crack it with your bare hands. Your blood roars inside your ears. Drowning all the other sounds. You glance at the doorway again. He isn’t here again. One more time. One more chance. Even tears start to prick at your eyes as you torture your mind for something. Something that he likes. Sure, you must’ve seen something. Anything. You live with him for fucks sake.

Something that’s valuable to him.

Something he lov-

Your eyes go wide. It sure can’t be right? You know something very precious to him.

You!

You let out a breathy exhale as you frantically start to enter your birth year into the keypad. You’re 99.9% positive that this wouldn’t work.

It does. The moment you type the last digit the phone unlocks.

Wow! He really is crazy. That familiar fear tugs at your guts. You have no time to dwell on that, however. There’s more pressing matters at hand. You open the phone application frantically. You can call the police. You can call one of your friends. The best option is to call the police. But you feel hesitant. What if they don’t trust you? You don’t know where this mistrust about the law comes from. In the end, you opt on dialing one of your friends. And without a doubt it’s going to be Daebi. Not that you remember other people’s numbers anyway.

You dial on Daebi’s number. Your fingers are shaking and your breath is getting caught in your throat every now and then. Same chant or prayer going through your mind.

Please don’t let him come now. Please don’t.

You enter the final number and mindlessly hit the dial button. It takes a millisecond for the screen to change into the calling page. Then it does.

A capital ‘D’ pops up on the screen. A saved number. You squint your eyes in annoyance. Did you get the number wrong? You have no time for this. You hang up the call immediately before dialing it again. Wait. The same ‘D’ pops up again. This number is saved on this phone.

No. That can’t be.

How and why would Jungkook has Daebi’s number on his phone. Maybe you have jumbled your memory and this isn’t her number. You feel a shiver run through your spine. This can’t be. You should try again. You hang up the call once more. Start entering it over again.

“What are you doing?”

The voice booms through the kitchen. You jump on your spot before the phone slips through your fingers at the unexpected sound. You hear a faint clank as your wide eyes turn to Jungkook. Standing at the doorway. Some grocery bags in his hand. He assesses you for a minute before storming toward you. That dark cloud envelopes him whole as you watch him drop all the bags on the counter. Rounds the table to reach you. You just stand there rooted to the floor by fear. “What the fuck were you doing (___),” He shouts. Bends down and grabs his phone, which is still unlocked. “Who the hell did you contact?” He barks. Frantically going through his call history.

A beat passes.

You watch how his expression instantly calms down.

That can’t be.

He gives you a sympathetic look.

That isn’t Daebi’s number.

Jungkook sighs. “You shouldn’t do dumb things pretty. It always ends up hurting you.” Clutches his phone tightly. “I already told you that I’m trying to protect you. But you’re still trying to betray me? You’re still trying to be that ungrateful bitch? You think your stupid friends give a fuck about you?” He takes a step toward you. His jaw clenched. You stay still. Your head spinning and your mind wandering between his words and all the possibilities as to how he has Daebi’s number. It can’t be her number. It isn’t. “How stupid you are baby. How fucking stupid are you? You could’ve called anyone, the police, someone else, but you decided to call your bitch of a best friend.” A throaty laugh escapes him. You tremble visibly. Well, you fucked up and maybe you won’t get any chance to know what’s actually happening. Jungkook would kill you before that.

Still, though, you stay rooted in place as he closes the remaining few inches between you. Not because you’re not afraid anymore. But because it’s all too much for you to give a reaction. The only thing you’re capable of doing is gasping when he suddenly grabs your wrist.

“I really didn’t want to harm you princess. When I say I’ll never cause you any harm, I meant it. But since you’re a stubborn bitch, maybe a little heartbreak and some truth will do you good.”

That’s all he says before turning around and starting to walk away. Dragging you with him. You protest weakly but without a doubt he wins.

…………………….

You sit in his gaming chair. Slightly trembling and staring blankly at his computer screen. You actually don’t give a shit about what he has to show you. Something inside you is telling you that whatever this is, it isn’t going to be good. Yet, despite your protest Jungkook leans forward over your shoulder and clicks on a file. A video file to be specific.

“I never wanted to show this to you.” He whispers in your ear. You say nothing. Just sit there stupidly watching the screen change into a sight of an unfamiliar room. Jungkook doesn’t withdraw to give you your personal space. He just stays there. You ignore his presence as you pay your jumbled attention to the screen. For a couple of minutes it’s just a still image of a room. You almost become convinced that it’s really a picture when suddenly a door to the left of the room opens. You furrow your brow as you catch a woman entering the room, her face isn’t completely visible. And the quality of the video is really shitty.

Yet you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand. An urge that something bad is about to happen lurking inside your stomach. Gut feelings.

The woman fumbles around the room. Her face is still not visible to the camera. But even from the back and with the shitty quality you think she’s familiar. Very.

You know her.

Right at the clue, she turns around. Her eyes directly land on the camera. You let out a painful breath.

Daebi!

You feel your heart squeeze. It hurts but at the same time a fleeting sense of comfort washes over you at the sight of a familiar face. Only until she turns around toward the door again, though. Only until a second figure enters the frame. A man. He doesn’t fumble around. He looks at Daebi the moment he enters and you see his face right away.

If you thought it hurt to see Daebi, your whole world collapses the moment you see the man.

Hoseok!

No.

Even before anything happens, you understand it. You feel an overwhelming urge to scream through the top of your lungs. To grab something and smash the computer into pieces. You don’t though. Are too stunned to be able to do anything. You can’t even look away. Not even when Daebi walks to Hoseok leisurely. Not even when Hoseok grabs her waist, flattening her against his chest. You keep watching when he lowers his head to catch Daebi’s mouth in a searing kiss.

No. Please God no. This can’t be right.

But it’s unfolding in front of your eyes. Their kiss turns heated quickly. Hoeseok’s hand slips from her waist to her ass. He guides them toward the bed.

No. Not Daebi. Daebi won’t do this to you. Hoseok would, yes. But not Daebi.

“This is- this..” A sob interrupts whatever you're trying to say. “It’s fake. You- you..” You don’t know what you’re talking about.

“You still don’t believe that, after everything? Even when you have the proofs” Jungkook sighs. You shake your head violently.

“You forged it. Y-you- oh, c’mon,” You chuckle between your cries. “You created a damn app to lure me into your trap. You’re a fucking genius. Of-of fucking course you edited this.” Yes, that’s exactly what happened. You nod weakly, desperate to convince yourself. Jungkook says nothing for a while. But then all of sudden he places his phone on the table. Your eyes flicker from the errotic scene of your best friend and ex- boyfriend making out on a bed to his phone screen. There’s an outgoing call.

Oh, you know what he’s doing. And you want to throw the phone away. You shouldn’t let him manipulate you. This all is his doing. The video. This call.

“Hello!”

You slightly jump on your seat when the unexpected voice reaches you through the phone. No one says anything.

“Hello? Kook?” Oh, you can recognize that voice anywhere. She is your best friend after all.

“Hello D.” Jungkook finally answers her. You slump in your seat. Feeling all your energy leaves your body.

“What the fuck man. You promised me you will never fucking contact me again. Why the hell are you calling me?” Daebi hisses. Jungkook gives a soft chuckle.

“Oh, it’s just that uh…” His eyes move to your shaky figure. “Your best friend here wanted to say hi.”

“What?”

Jungkook taps your shoulder. You don’t want to do that. There’s no reason. But somehow you hear your own shaky voice come from a distance.

“D-daebi?” It’s pathetic and desperate. Still hangs into a loose thread of hope.

“Shit!” Daebi curses aloud. Her voice is sharp and panicked. That loose thread of hope breaks. You just gape at the phone screen.

“Are you happy to hear from you bestie D?” Jungkook asks again. With a mockery tilt in his voice. You don’t know whether Daebi answered his question. Probably not. Because before anything, you hear a second voice.

“Baby, who’s it?” Another voice that you’ll recognize anywhere. How can you not when you have loved him with everything.

Hoseok.

And the line disconnects.

All that is left is despair. Disappointment. Disbelief. And pain. Pain everywhere. It hurts everywhere. Every breath you take, every inch of your skin, every heartbeat, it all hurts.

You can’t believe it.

But it is the truth.

You can’t control your cries. Can’t stop the gut-wrenching sobs tearing from your throat. Even start to rock yourself. Wrap your arms around your body. You need a little comfort. Otherwise you’ll die from this pain. That’s why you don’t complain or protest when Jungkook suddenly pulls you onto your feet. Just for him to sit back and drag you into his lap. You just allow him to manhandle you as you immediately curl into a ball in his lap. Hide your face in his broad chest and your fist bunching up on his t-shirt. You allow him to wrap his arms around you and rock you softly.

“I know princess, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you but you deserve to know the truth. I always tried to protect you. I’m so sorry.” He draws soothing patterns on your back. You feel his lips on your crownline.

“It’s fine, I got you. You’re going to be safe. I’m not letting you go this time.”

…………………………..

At Daebi’s place

“Who was that?” Hoseok plops next to his girlfriend on the couch.

“No one. Just another spam call.” Daebi sighs. Her face is completely pale. Hoseok takes a minute to study her expression.

“Yeah?” He mumbles. “Are you okay?” Questions just to be sure. Daebi gives him a soft smile before leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just… you know how it is..”

Of course, he knows. He and Daebi always lived in a constant loop of guilt. If only either of them had found the courage to tell you earlier, when they started falling in love. Then nothing like this would’ve happened. Hoseok thinks it’s cruel how he or Daebi never got a real chance to apologize to you. He really had thought maybe he would get that chance when he last saw you at Daebi’s birthday. But no. His life is too cruel to allow him such easy chances. Now that you’ve vanished into thin air, no one can say if he’ll ever get that chance again.

It’s almost nearing a month and there’s not a single clue about you. Nobody has seen you after Daebi’s birthday. All of your friends confirmed that. And considering how they all agreed upon that you weren’t been mentally strong lately- which is entirely his fault- police have a fat suspicion that you’ve taken your own life.

But Hoseok refuses to believe it. And even though Daebi doesn’t voice it out, he knows that she doesn’t believe it either. You’re safe, and sooner or later someone will find you. He knows that.

“Yeah, I know baby.” Hoseok plants a soft kiss in her hair. “She’s alive and safe. You don’t have to worry, we’ll find her.” Reassures.

He completely misses how his girlfriend’s face grows even paler.

……………………

a.n- Let's meet with a prequel soon!!!!!!! (And loads of smut *wink*)

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Taglist- @yunhoswrldddd @rjooniesdimples @ttanniett @targaryenluvs @winchesterkenzie @miniesjams32 @bookstoread199 @smokinghotstargirl @likemeforme @sunshinenmidnight

#bts #bts smut #smut bts #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts mini series #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook bts #jungkook angst #yandere #yandere bts #bts yandere #jungkook yandere #bts fanfction #bts fanfic

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thekinkymadscientist · 3 months ago

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Idea: Using a loading bar as a robotification/dronification trigger.

All I have to do is put it in your field of view. The moment that bar starts moving, your eyes focus on it. You know what it is, of course, know what it's going to do to you.

Perhaps there's a little bit of panic in you, but it feels muted, unimportant. Everything feels unimportant, as that loading bar progresses. You know that when it finishes you'll be completely blank and obedient. You know that more of your will is disappearing with each second. But you've already lost enough of your will that it doesn't seem to matter.

As it passes halfway, your arms drop into a neutral posture. Eyes are completely fixed on the loading bar as you feel the trigger progressing. You notice that your thoughts are disappearing, and then that thought, too, disappears.

Three-quarters loaded, and there's only a little more to do. Memories start disappearing, locked away until you wake up. If you were able to notice anything at this point, you'd notice programming and training flashing through your mind, remembering all the best ways to serve. But you don't notice it. It just happens.

And then, finally, the bar reaches 100%. Initialized, your posture straightens and you stand by, awaiting orders.

#hypnosis #mind control #hypnok1nk #hypnosis fantasy #conditioning #dronification #robotificatioon

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pukefactory · 19 days ago

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AUTHOR’S NOTE

I loved the idea that @the-void-via submitted to me so much that I couldn’t help but write some headcanons about it. Shoutout to them for such a unique prompt. Happy reading!

- COMET

•☽────✧˖°˖ PHANTOM PSALMS ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcanons Featuring Salesperson ENA X War Medic Reader

★ Character(s): Salesperson ENA (ENA: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ ENA meets you on a Tuesday. She says it’s a lucky day because Tuesdays are for strategic repositioning and shiny discounts. You tell her you’re not buying anything. She stares. Doesn’t say a word. Her cap tips forward slightly, and you can hear the subtle click-click-click of bullets sliding somewhere unseen, just beneath her hairline. You offer her a bandage instead of a handshake. She takes it. Her fingers twitch like they want to wrap around something tighter.

☆ “I’m not that anymore,” she says, as her shadow glows red with crosshairs. You hadn’t accused her of anything. All you did was say, you look tired. And maybe, just maybe, she is. Maybe ENA was programmed to obliterate entire populations and can no longer remember the difference between routine and remorse. You hand her a coffee instead of a confession. She gulps it like it’s blood.

☆ She doesn’t know what to do with your softness. You speak in triage terms: Here. Let me check. You’re not bleeding, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. ENA hears you and glitches. Her Salesperson side smiles, her Meanie side crumbles. “No one has ever offered me gauze before,” she says. “Usually, they offer…retaliation.” You offer her a blanket. She asks if it’s a trap.

☆ There’s an instance where ENA panics. Real panic, the kind where her claws shake and her mittened hand begins typing something in the air you can’t read. “I’M NOT DOING IT,” she screams, the bullets fall again. You step in front of her. Not to fight. But to triage. “It’s okay,” you say. “If this is what you did…you don’t have to do it anymore.” She looks at you like you just handed her a reason to live. Or maybe just a reason to not die.

☆ You become the only one she listens to. The only one who doesn’t speak in orders. “You have the face of a sergeant,” she tells you one day. “But the heart of mercy.” It’s supposed to be an insult, probably. Her voice glitches halfway through. She looks away. You touch her shoulder and say, “Good. I’ve seen enough of what happens when soldiers forget mercy.” She doesn’t respond. But the megaphones don’t spin that day.

☆ Sometimes you catch her staring at her own hands. Not in awe. Not in vanity. In disgust. Her left palm opens to reveal a cracked metal chamber. Her right fingers are sharp. “I was made to point and eliminate. You were made to stitch.” She says this and doesn’t finish the sentence. You finish it for her: “Then maybe we’re supposed to meet halfway.” She looks at you like you just gave her a new job title: Healer in Training.

☆ She dreams in crosshairs and you dream in tourniquets. One night, the two dreams overlap and she wakes up tangled in a fever. “You were there,” she says. “On the battlefield. But you didn’t shoot me. You…you pressed your hands to my chest and told me to breathe.” You didn’t have the heart to tell her you’ve never been to war. Maybe she just pulled that memory from herself.

☆ “I keep trying to do better,” she tells you once, quiet as a wind-up toy losing momentum. “I aim for the target. I follow protocol. But everyone still looks at me like I killed their world.” You sit beside her on the dusty casino floor and whisper, “That’s because you probably did.” She flinches. “But you’re here now. You didn’t run from the wreckage. That means something.” She doesn’t speak for five whole minutes. Her hat slips down her brow like a salute.

☆ You see it, one day. The flash of her other form. Green cracks. No arms. Jagged mouth leaking color that doesn’t exist in any medical manual. “They made me into a god of endings,” she says. “But you…” She leans in, wild-eyed, “You always begin things. Even now. Look at you—bandages and tea and dumb questions about feelings.” You laugh. She winces like it’s a bullet wound. But doesn’t move away.

☆ When she finally asks what your role was, you hesitate. “I kept people alive,” you say. Not proudly. Just honestly. ENA turns away. “And I kept people from continuing,” she replies. And for a moment, there’s nothing but static. Until you say: “Then maybe it’s time we learn from each other.” She doesn’t reply. But she stops dropping bullets for the rest of the week.

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nathanbatemanfucker · 2 months ago

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Fault Lines Ch. 1

request: wanted to know if you could write something where the reader is a ex-winter solider (just like bucky, but maybe she doesn't lose her arm) and how she struggles to accept Joaquin. An overall angst to fluff.

pairing: joaquin torres x ex-super soldier!f!reader

contents: canon typical violence, blood mention, illusions to abuse and torture, ptsd and other mental illness, enemies to lovers, angst

wc: 1,479

an: this series is based off of this request here! this series has truly poured out of me and is nearly done, and with all the other bits i've been writing, i'm probably just going to post it as quickly as i can as not to lose steam. i hope yall like it, i'm a little nervous as i've avoided writing this time of character before in fear i wouldn't do her justice. pls be kind!

fault lines masterlist

Someone has been ahead of Sam and Joaquin at every turn. Once might’ve been luck. Twice was suspicious. Three times? That meant someone else was hunting Hydra too—and winning.

And while Sam, Joaquin, and everybody at S.H.I.E.L.D wanted Hydra wiped out, they also wanted to know who was doing it and why.

They don’t know where this person is getting their intel. A mole, a hacked database, or maybe just a particularly desperate, sloppy faction of Hydra. Either way, it’s getting frustrating—because every time Sam and Joaquin show up, ready to extract information, all they find are bodies cooling in pools of blood.

Not today. Today’s a setup.

There’s snow on the ground, crunching beneath their boots as they grow closer to the rendezvous point. It’s still falling, freckling their dark clothing as they slip between the trees, far enough from each other to not garner attention but close enough in case things go awry.

“Whoever this is, they’re dangerous,” Sam mutters, voice low in Joaquin’s earpiece. He scans the abandoned Hydra hideout from the cover of a half-collapsed outhouse, gunpowder and metal still thick in the air. “They’re calculated. They know what they’re doing.”

“So do we,” Joaquin counters, shifting his weight as he waits for the signal to continue moving through the treess.

“Yeah, but listen. As far as we know, it’s one person. And they’ve taken down whole squads of Hydra. No stray casualties. No blood spilled but the ones they were after. Who do you know that can do that?”

“If you let me upgrade the suit—”

“I’m serious, Joaquin,” Sam cuts in, sharp. No room for their usual back-and-forth. “Whoever this is doesn’t just have tech. They have something else. It’s inhuman.”

Joaquin swallows hard, the words settling in his chest like a weight. Sam’s instincts are good. If he thinks something’s off, it is.

The plan is simple: lay low, watch the meeting point where Hydra’s last known contacts are supposed to regroup, and wait for their mystery hunter to show up. If things go south, they intervene.

Joaquin already has a feeling this won’t be clean. Minutes pass. The winter wind howls through the wreckage, biting at their cheeks and rattling loose metal.

It’s subtle. A shadow flickers at the edge of his vision.

Joaquin goes still with focus, eyes locking onto your figure as you slip through the ruins with silent precision. Even with the snow on the ground you don’t make a sound, its almost as if you’re floating. You move like a ghost—controlled, effortless. A hood hides your face, but everything else—your stance, the sharpness of your movements—radiates readiness. Like you’re expecting a fight.

He sees your shoulders rise and fall and then, you strike.

Hydra operatives barely have time to react before they’re taken down with brutal efficiency. A knife flashes once, twice—only when necessary. The rest fall under precise, bone-breaking force. No wasted movement. No hesitation. It’s methodical. Programmed into muscle memory long ago.

Joaquin feels his stomach turn, not even the cold air can keep his head clear. He’s seen this before. This kind of combat. The precision, the control. The lack of wasted effort.

“Sam,” he whispers, tension winding tight in his spine. “This isn’t just some ex-agent cleaning up loose ends.”

“I know,” Sam says grimly. “I’ve seen that kind of fighting before.”

The last Hydra operative collapses with a wet groan. Blood pools at your feet, staining the snow but it doesn’t phase you as you remove your knives from bodies and clean them on your sleeve. You pause, breath steady, then turn your head slightly, surveying the space around you. You can feel them watching.

Sam doesn’t hesitate. He moves first because he knows the last thing they need is for you to find them first. That only ends in more blood. “We’re up.”

The second they step forward, you react like you were trained to. Like a cornered, wild animal. Your body pivots fast, hand already reaching for another knife—but Sam raises his hands in a rare show of non-hostility.

“Easy,” he says. “We’re not Hydra.”

“I know who you are,” you cut in. Your voice is even, but the weight behind it is enough to make Joaquin’s pulse jump. “And I don’t want to hear it.”

Because yeah, you know exactly who Sam Wilson is. You know his green little sidekick, too. And more than that, you know his boyfriend—how he went from committing some of the worst atrocities Hydra ever assigned to shaking hands with senators. How his sins were washed clean because he had the right people to vouch for him.

You don’t have people like that. You’re not Bucky Barnes. And you don’t think you want to be.

“You have to hear it,” Sam says, regret laced through his voice. “Or we’re gonna have to take you in.”

You scoff. “Try it.”

Joaquin takes a slow breath as Sam glances at him. A silent you’re up.

You’re quiet, weighing your options. And then, with an almost imperceptible shift, you move. Fast. One second, Joaquin is standing his ground and the next, he’s dodging a strike that would’ve knocked the breath from his lungs.

“Damn, alright, shit—” he manages, stumbling back, hands up. “Hold up. Hold up. We’re the good guys here.”

You don’t lower your stance, but you hesitate when he doesn’t try to fight back. It’s slight, but Joaquin sees it. Despite your speed, your breathing is even. Controlled. Regimented.

He exhales slowly, heart still hammering. “You haven’t killed a single innocent person. That tells me you’re not the monster they tried to make you.”

Your face shifts for a moment but whatever is there is too fast for Joaquin to name. His voice softens. “I’ve seen people who fight like you. You were trained to be something you didn’t ask to be. That’s not who you are, right?”

His words somehow sneak their way past the walls you've put up and strike you in your heart. Because he’s right, you didn’t ask for it and its not who you are. Its who you were made to be and you’re just finishing the job. He sees it in the way your shoulders shift, in the microexpression you aren’t able to hide this time.

After a long beat, you lift a hand and push your hood back— he can see you clearly anyway. “No, it’s not.”

Joaquin’s breath catches.

He wonders if this is what it felt like for Sam when he and Bucky finally were able to connect and see each other as human. He can feel the weight of all you’ve experienced and all you haven’t just in once glimpse. From it, Joaquin feels nothing but sadness for you, imagining all you endured in your captivity.

“Come with us.”

Sam steps forward. “Whoa, Joaquin–”

You give them both a bitter smile, cutting Sam off, “Don’t worry, captain, I‘d rather die of frostbite out here anyway.”

“You're not helping.” Joaquin scolds you, looking between the two of you before pulling Sam to the side, his expression confused. “Sam, c’mon. What would Bucky do?”

“Don’t bring him into this, man.”

“I didn’t bring him into this, he is this.”

“He was,” Sam says firmly.

“He was, and you helped him out.”

Sam sighs– Joaquin was right. It hadn’t started out that way, Sam had needed Bucky’s help. He doesn’t even remember when or how the lines began to blur; he just knew that when he was with Bucky things felt…right. They’d been lucky though, finding that in each other.

“So what, you wanna try to save her?”

“Don’t you?”

You clear your throat behind them, and they both turn around to meet your gaze. “One; I can hear you. Two; I don’t need saving.”

“I bet you could use some back up though,” Sam insists, looking at you over Joaquin’s shoulder. “Whatcha think about that?”

He’s not wrong. You could benefit from a free ammo re-up. It’d be nice to sleep in a place where you know there are harmless, good guys. Where the walls don’t morph into haunting faces and close in on you.

“I think there better be a hot shower and meal for me when we get there,” You start towards their tracks but when you don’t hear them moving you glance over your shoulder at them. “You princesses coming?”

“How’d you know which way?” Joaquin asks, brows knitting together.

“The tracks,” You answer easily, taking a couple more steps in that direction. You hear a soft purr. “And now the engine.”

Sam glares at Joaquin. “You left the car running?”

The two start their usual bicker and you lead the back, wondering what you’ve just gotten yourself into. Maybe something as good as what Bucky’s got— most likely none of that and more pain. That’s all you’ve ever known.

> ch. 2

let me know if you'd like to be on the joaquin torres taglist!

sfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath, @arsonhotchner, @sidkneeeee, @galaxywannabe, @retrosabers, @marchingicenotes7, @marroonwitch, @jaebugzz, @that-girl-named-alex, @bxtchboy69, @moonymeloncholymoney, @mischiefmanaged71, @something-random-idk, @dualinstinct, @alevanswrites

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x fem!reader #joaquin torres x f!reader #joaquin torres x you #joaquin torres fanfiction #joaquin torres fic #joaquin torres imagine #captain america: bnw fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #x reader #arson writes #al's mail requests

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chieltbest · 2 days ago

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Big Awful Texture Locator

Download the latest version here

Find any texture in The Sims 2 that is too big, or is 'awful' (suboptimal texture format)

Features:

Find textures in any folder you choose

Filter by width, height, memory size, texture format, or number of mipmap levels

Preview and show details of textures the tool found

Remember 'known good' textures, which are optionally excluded from being shown in the list

Look up the path of the package, and the group and instance of the resource

Copy texture/resource details (right click)

Open the package in the default package editor (double click)

Dark mode/light mode and UI scale adjustable

Native on both Windows and Linux

Why?

The Sims 2 has had a long-standing problem known as 'pink flashing' or 'pink soup' when using too much custom content. The Sims 2 is a 32-bit program, which means that it normally has a maximum memory limit of 2GiB (2048MiB) and by using a so-called '4GB patch' you can raise this limit to -you guessed it- 4GiB, this limit might seem pretty large, but due to how the game works you might hit this limit sooner than expected!

Let's say you have 1024x2048 textures (which is the default for Sims 4 textures, and thus also often for 4to2 cc) in RGBA format, these textures will EACH take up 8MiB of texture memory! This means you could possibly only have only a MAXIMUM of 512 textures loaded in memory before you run out of memory completely. In practice, this limit will probably be lower due to other factors.

This tool will help you find textures that take up too much texture memory, and thus (hopefully) help alleviate some amount of pink flashing.

Tutorial

First, download the program from the link above and follow the instructions to open the program.

Now let's get the program looking the way you want: click on the sun/moon button on the top left of the program to switch light/dark mode and click the "UI Scale" number next to it and enter a new number to change the size of the interface.

Set the folder we want to search: at the top bar, search for the 'Downloads:' bar, then at the end click the button with the folder icon and select your folder. Once you've selected a folder the program will instantly start scanning, if you want to restart this scan then at any time you can click the text in the Downloads bar and press enter.

Currently this list will show all textures in the scan folder, which is probably not very interesting. To find some more interesting textures we can add some filters to the texture list. On the top bar, click on the 'Filter' button: this will open the filter list and it will be empty if you haven't added any filters previously.

These filters filter the texture list one by one, each filter removing more textures from the displayed list of textures. To add a filter, click the plus button, and to remove it click on the trashcan button at the start of the line.

To edit a filter, click on the first box to choose the filter type, click on the second box to choose the type of comparison, and select the number in the last box to set the number to compare with.

The comparison type can be < (smaller than), <= (smaller or equal), > (greater than), >= (greater or equal), == (equal), or != (not equal).

The Format filter is different: make a format filter, then click on the 'choose' button and choose the texture formats that you want to show in the texture list.

Let's edit some textures!

In the texture list, find a texture that you think is too big, and either double click on it to open it in the default package editor or right click on it to show a menu to copy the details of the package.

Finally, once you have the package opened in your favorite package manager, edit the texture to be smaller and/or a better texture format, save and ta-da! your game will now use less texture memory.

#ts2 #the sims 2 #sims 2 #simblr #batl #my programs #cc manager #dbpf

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seungfl0wer · 7 months ago

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*𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅*

Pairing: Felix x Reader (fem)

Genre: Smut (Fluffy smut tbh)

Warnings: Felix!Ai Robot, Creampie, unprotected sex, Oral (F), fingering, dirty talk, mentions of recording, nipple play, temperature play, slightly proofread.

Find The Halloween Master List Here

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this, and I’ve been doing a lot better with adding some plot lol. So I hope y’all enjoy.

-🎃

A new shipment of part had came in for you, as the man unloaded the heavy boxes into your garage you noticed a half put together robot. He had one arm barely hanging on, an eye missing, a huge hole in his chest and no legs. Your heart shattered seeing it all torn apart and damaged. “What’s uhm happened to that one?” You said softly as the man put the box that held it in it on the ground. “We don’t know exactly but he did come from the violet district.” The man sad with almost sadness in his voice. You let out a deep breath nodding your head. Nicknamed the Double V for violet violent district. This place was known for criminal activity, robot fighting, drugs and mafia.

It didn’t surprise you now seeing its state coming from there. You thanked the man for the parts and scrap before going back into your place. You looked over at the robot “I wonder if I have anything to fix you?” You said aloud. “I don’t have any projects right now so” you said picking up the mangled robot sitting it at your work station. As the days turned into weeks you were slowly making progress. You didn’t know what you’d do with it when it was put together but you figured you just see what it wanted.

You figured out it was a male robot as you worked on its inners. His attachments were still intact inside, and the rods for his “fluids” were still good. “Ah so you’re a male? I wonder what your name is? Wonder what you actually look like?” The thing with these AI robots is they had their own personality, their own looks and you wouldn’t know what he’d really look like until you got his hardware back working.

About a month of getting him you finally had him all done. His body was good as new, pushing his back button to help turn him on you sighed seeing his face flash. -Uploading memories- flashed across his face. You let out an annoying sigh but occupied yourself waiting for it to fully download. A few hours later you had passed out head laying on your desk beside the robot. You tried your best to stay awake, wanting to see him as soon as he woke. When he came to he looked around then down at you. Although he wasn’t “alive” per se he heard you as you worked on him.

Your pretty voice kept him going as you worked on him giving him hope that he was somewhere safe. When he saw you were sleeping he wrapped his arms around you taking you to your bed laying you down gently making his way to the small chair you had in your room. He sat there and waited, waited for you to wake. To thank you for everything you had done for him. Flickering your eyes awake you stretched your arms up. “I don’t remember coming to bed” you said softly in a groggy voice. “I brought you to bed” a voice said coming from the other side of your room.

You let out a small scream before grabbing the knife from your night stand “who the fuck are you?” You said scared someone had broken in. “S-sorry didn’t mean to scare you, my names Felix. I’m.. the robot you were working on” he said softly. You turned on your light looking over at him. You’ve never seen such a beautiful robot. He has perfectly placed freckles, a velvety voice with an accent, pretty brown eyes and a gorgeous smile. “There’s no way they used you for fighting” the words slipped out before you could think. He chuckled a bit “ah well this pretty face fools a lot of people, I’m actually programmed with a lot of martial arts” he said with a smile.

You just nodded in response still trying to wrap your head around his beauty. “Thank you.” He said softly. “Oh of- of course!” You said looking up at him. “What uhm did you wanna do? You’re more than welcome to stay here with me or go on and live your life” you said. “I can stay here?” He said voice full of shock. You nod “yeah if you want. I have a spare room. Or even if you wanna leave later. I’m just happy I could.. save you” your voice soft almost a whisper at the end.

He smiled once again a small blush creeping across his face “I’m happy you saved me too” he said punctuating the ‘you’ part. As you worked on his for months he felt himself almost falling for you. The little things you did while you were alone like singing or making dumb jokes as you worked. How you never gave up on him and kept saying stuff like “I know you’re gonna be better, you’ll live a happier life I promise.” The words he kept recorded in a file he listened to ever so often.

He’s been living with you for about 3 months now. You really enjoyed having the company plus he helped you a lot on other projects. Helping to fix other robots who had come there for help. How gentle and caring you were to them just made him fall for you even more. One of the nights you were getting ready to have some ‘alone time’ when Felix had stopped you. “Y/n..” he said softly looking at the ground. “You alright lix?” You said worried he was upset or something. “I know what you’re going to do..” he said eyes still at the ground.

You tried to look at his face “wh-what do you mean?” You asked. “You have this routine before masterbating” he said his voice low. Before you could say anything back he continued “am I not good enough? I can make you feel good. Better than that tiny little thing you have. Let me make you feel good?” He asked his eyes now locked on yours. Your mouth was hanging open in shock “Felix” you said in almost a whisper. “Can I?” He said his lips now hovering over yours. You nod but he shakes his head “I need you to say it” he said inches from your face. “Yes” you said and like that his lips were attached to yours.

They felt warm as his tongue made its way into your mouth. He pulled your pants down as he worked his hands up your body teasing your nipples. He quickly got to his knees kissing your thighs before attaching his lips to your cunt. Everything happened so fast but as soon as his mouth started to work on your cunt all thoughts were gone. He sucked on your clit as he pushed to of his fingers into you. He made them nice and warm for you pushing deep into you. It felt weird, good but weird. It was so warm it almost felt like cum as he pumped himself into you.

The noises you were making plus how good you looked made his mind go into overdrive. He started recording, to save in his memory forever. The way your body shuttered under his touch. The moans the slipped past your lips and the way his name sounded coming from you. He was losing himself in you his hands were moving faster as he felt you clenching around him. He sprung his cock out gripping it in his hand as he pumped himself. He let out moans against your pussy making it vibrate. His tongue came up to your clit swirling around it, as he made it vibrate against it.

One thing about Robots is they could do so many things humans couldn’t do. God were you finding it out right now. The vibrations of his tongue mixing with his fingers curling against your walls was bringing you over the edge so fast. “Felix! Fuck I’m- fuck I’m close” you mumbled out gripping onto his long blonde hair as you rode his face chasing your high. Your movements made him moan his hand left his cock so he could play with your nipples. Wanting to pleasure you more than anything. He made his fingers cold like ice as he traced over them. Perking them up the feeling of it drove you over the edge. You came, legs shaking as the closed burring Felix’s face into your cunt. As he lapped up your juices you were a moaning mess. The feeling of him still going making you so overstimulated.

When he pulled away you brought you to your room laying himself down on the bed “use me. I’m here to please you. Please.. fuck please use me” he babbled out. Your eyes finally met his cock, it was so thick average length but so so fucking thick. Your mouth almost drooled at it before you could even think you go down licking the tip of his cock. His hips bucked at the surprise his mouth ajar as he let out the lowest groan. You smiled to yourself before moving to straddle him. You leaned down to kiss him rubbing your soaked pussy against his cock.

The movement made you both moans against each other’s lips. When you felt like he was good and wet you let him slip in slowly. Eyes rolling back as you felt his whole length inside you. “S-so warm” he whimpered. The feeling of him so full inside you made your brain go foggy. You leaned back and with out warning started to ride him. Bouncing your hips up and down taking him all in. His hands went to grip your sides shaking almost at the feeling. “Fuck y/n- please- fuck- yes use me- fucking use me” he moaned out his hands digging into your hips.

His words made your head spin, moving your hips as fast as you can taking him as deep as you could. You let your hands wonder his body, wishing you could leave marks on his skin. Your movements were getting lazy as your legs go tired and your high was quickly approaching again. “Gonna cum?” He asked eyes half open. When you nod he’s wrapping his arms around you pulling you to his chest. His cock moved fast in and out of you, non human fast. As his cock hit your cervix you both let out a moan.

“Lix fuck right there fuck- please don’t stop” you cried out. He nodded as he kept the same pace. “Tell me when you’re gonna cum I wanna cum with you please. Please baby fuck I wanna fill you with everything I got. I love you y/n. I love you so much. My beautiful. My everything.” He babbled. “Do you love me? Please y/n tell me you love me” he looked like he could cry at the pleasure at the thought of you loving him back. “Fuck Lix! I love you fuck I love you so much! You’re all mine yeah? All mine to use like my dirty little toy?” Your words brought something out in him.

His eyes rolled back hips hitting deep with in you harder than the last his hand coming down to play with your clit. “All- yours- yours” he kept repeating that over and over with every thrust. “Cu-cumming!” You choked out pussy swallowing him in as he gave you one more thrust letting himself unload deep inside you. He kissed you passionately holding onto you tight. He brushed some hair from your face as he pulled away looking into your eyes.

“You really mean it?” He said eyes looking over your face. “Of course I do silly, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t” you said with a smile pulling him into another kiss. “Even if I’m.. not human?” He said with a small pout. “Honestly I like you even more knowing you’re not. Humans kinda suck.” You giggled. Making him laugh “not all of them, I got the most perfect one though.” He said rubbing your back. “I love you Lixie” you said softly. “And I love you” he said back.

“Lix?” You said softly. He looked at you tilting his head “yeah?” He said. “How’s about another go?” You said face all red. He chucked “i can go as many rounds as you need baby” and boy were you gonna put that to the test.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Halloween Taglist: @ldysmfrst @kissesmellow21 @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan

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streetlightyeri · 10 months ago

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oklahoma smokeshow ; t.o

"cause you're a small town smokeshow."

w.c.: 6275

content: lovers to enemies (?) to lovers, angst, fluff, do i have to disclose natural disasters lol, death of a family member, no beta, and as always: FMC is named but has no descriptors

The thunder rumbled around Harlow, the sky turning blue with every flash of lightning. These circumstances aren’t what she pictured coming back to Oklahoma to be; the forecasted unprecedented storm week seemed like it was less of a random once-in-a-generation weather cell and more like a physical amalgamation of her emotions. She spent the entire plane ride pretending to be asleep with her head covered so the flight attendants didn’t see her tears; her seat partner acted like he didn’t hear the occasional sniffle. Harlow was grateful for that.

The rental she chose was the last truck on the lot: a Toyota Tacoma with an Arkansas license plate. She wanted to kick the metal plate and pretend it was her ex’s University of Arkansas alumni plate. Instead, she pretended to be normal, and climbed in, immediately turning on the seat warmers and relaxing against the leather. She pulled the seat up the farthest it could go; whoever rented before her practically had it brushing against the back row.

She felt like she was back in high school, driving her dad’s truck to Dairy Queen with her friends. Now, she couldn’t even remember the last time she saw a truck. She spent most of her time on the metro or in a yellow taxi. After her and Tyler’s blowup breakup, Harlow declined her full ride admission to University of Oklahoma and accepted a spot at Columbia University. She fantasized about him showing up at the airport to wish her luck; he didn’t. Similar to how she just did, she pretended to be asleep while she cried on the plane to JFK.

Tyler Owens got famous - there was no other way to say it. He was a hot-shot storm chaser with seemingly little regard for the dangers. But Harlow knew; he was calculative and a downright mathematical genius when it came to tornadoes. He completed his degree in meteorology a year early with high honors. He walked summa cum laude. Harlow watched the livestream. When she walked across stage in her powder blue cap and gown, she couldn’t help but wonder if he did the same. Or if he did it when she walked again two years later for her Masters. And again when she walked four and a half years later for her PhD.

She didn’t just run from him: she ran from the town of Clearwater, Oklahoma. Harlow was . . . a smokeshow. There was no denying it. But she was more than just attractive and Prom Queen. She was valedictorian, president of the Beta and Spanish Clubs, the organizer of natural disaster relief programs across the county. But everyone in Clearwater saw her as one thing: Tyler Owens’ pretty girlfriend who would soon be nothing more than a passing face on the street with a baby on her hip with another on the way. And Harlow couldn’t deny that maybe . . . just maybe she would’ve enjoyed that. But there were so many things that she couldn’t do in Clearwater, so many opportunities outside of the county lines.

But Tyler didn’t want that. He found out she applied to more than just UO and laughed at her. He asked what she could possibly want to do that wasn’t already in Clearwater, asked if she thought she’d be able to leave her mom. And Harlow couldn’t answer. She had nothing concrete that she wished for; she had nondescript dreams of moving away. She spent so long being what everyone wanted her to be, she had no clue what else there was to wish for - what else there was to be.

Their argument was one of her core memories, and in the Tacoma, even with the radio on and the thunder nearly shaking the road, she could hear everything like she was there again, that night 2 weeks after Prom as she helped him clean up his gear from his first ride of the season.

Tyler threw his rope down against his saddle. “If you hate it here so much, maybe we shouldn’t be together then!”

“Maybe we shouldn’t!”

The empty arena was completely silent. The groan of the tin roof in the gentle breeze was the only thing that interrupted the tense moment.

He swallowed hard, but didn’t move from his spot a few feet away from her. “Is . . . is that what you really want?”

Harlow tried to shrink in on herself, wrapping her arms around her torso, still wearing his sweatshirt. “I don’t - I don’t know, Tyler. The problem is I don’t know what I want, just what everyone else does. It’s just - you can’t understand. You’ll never be able to understand.” She dropped her arms and opted to lean against one of the bull shoots, the cold, rusty metal grounding her.

He just turned around, busying himself with tightening the straps of his gear. He was silent.

“Tyler-”

He shrugged so hard it shut her up, reaching in his pocket and tossing his keys onto the dirt. “Take the truck. I’ll get my keys and my stuff tomorrow. I’ll call for a ride.”

Harlow crossed her arms, “No, I’m not taking your truck.”

“And I’m not having you staying here in the dark waiting for someone to pick you up. So unless you want me to drive you home, take the damn truck.”

Harlow picked the keys up from the dirt. She cried on the way home then in her mom’s lap. After nearly an hour of listening to her daughter cry, Shiloh James brought her daughter to the family laptop and had her sign into her University of Oklahoma admissions portal and deny her spot. Shiloh looked at her diploma from UC Davis hanging on the wall, “Sometimes a fresh start is what you need most.”

Now here she was, back in Clearwater for the first time in years. The few times she visited before were quick, a few days at most before she jetted back across the country; she never came during storm season, too afraid to cross paths with him or hear his name.

This time, Harlow had taken a month off work to spend time with her mother. All it took was one call from her mom's nurse Kelly for Harlow to book her plane ride home.

Shiloh scolded Harlow when she learned she took a month of unpaid leave. “Honey, you’re being dramatic. Your coworkers need you more than I do here! Honest. I haven’t felt better.”

Harlow playfully rolled her eyes at her mother and cuddled against her on the couch, pretending once again that she was here for different reasons. “Nah, I think they’ll be just fine.”

She was learning she was really good at pretending. But, maybe she had been all her life.

Harlow dropped her mom off at her best friend’s house as was customary per Kelly. Shiloh had long since stopped treatment and no longer cared about keeping distance from her loved ones. So Thursdays became nights for her to spend with Ruth to reminisce on their years together. Harlow planned to spend the night getting drunk and pretending her life wasn’t unraveling, like she wasn’t about to spend the weekend deciding between cedar and mahogany and pine.

Instead, she got a call from a college of hers in New York, Kate.

“Hello?” She answered, not sure what could prompt a call like this at 5pm. The two were work friends, the one the other would drift to during conventions - nothing more. Neither liked talking about anything personal. She could count on one hand the amount of real conversations she’d had with the girl. But perhaps weather could get her mind off the storm brewing in her life.

“Hi, this is Dr. James?” Kate sounded unsure, as though her number may have changed.

After receiving confirmation, Kate started into a spiel about how she was in need of a second opinion on the cells that were forming over the next few days in Oklahoma.

“Wait,” Harlow cut her off, “Are you . . . in Oklahoma?”

Kate swallowed, “Yes, as a favor to a friend. He’s testing out new equipment.”

“I mean - I’m in Oklahoma as well. I can meet with you, if that’s easier. That way I can see the models you’re describing.” Harlow wasn’t sure why she was so ecstatic to help. Maybe she just wanted a distraction, a taste of what Tyler did every day, what prompted him to leave Clearwater just a year after she did.

After half an hour of preparing a bag with her laptop and other essentials for the night she was going to spend at the motel, she was headed towards a town a few dozen miles north. The ride was the same as every ride through the Great Plains: filled with wheat, windmills, and cows. When she finally arrived at the address she was given, Harlow sighed and looked at the backseat, wishing she brought extra blankets. The parking lot was full: there was no chance of her getting a room that night. Nevertheless, she unbuckled, pulling her bag from the passenger side floorboard. She didn’t need to search for the StormParr trucks. They were stark white with the brutalist style logo slapped on every inch of the vehicles. She scanned the group for a second, looking for Kate - or any woman in general.

Kate saw her first, gently waving her over to introduce her to the group. After a while of comparing models and data (most of which was written off by the StormParr team and deemed as rudimentary), Kate got the hint that Harlow was about to snap. In an attempt to mediate, she cut off the tall, broad man while he was in the middle of talking about his data collection, “I’m sorry, but I really do have to run to the restroom. Dr. James, would you mind accompanying me?”

Harlow gave her a thankful look. The two set off to Kate’s room on the second floor. “I’m sorry about all of that. I thought what you said was very helpful. The prediction of rain habits in the area can definitely contribute to the-”

She cut Kate off with a raised hand and a laugh as they ascended. “It’s fine, really. I have a PhD in Climatology. I’m used to being talked over by men. It’s not like they’re paying me, so I don’t really care.”

They were about to start up the second set of stairs when a man called up at Kate, “Well if it isn’t Big City! That was a good call today!”

Harlow would’ve thought they were talking to her if she hadn’t known Kate was surrounded by these same groups of storm chasers for the past couple of days.

Kate rolled her eyes and whispered to her, “Tornado Wrangler crew.”

Harlow felt her eyes blow wide and her blood run cold. She could hear the rushing in her ears and her heart pumping in her chest. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard Kate introducing her, “This is Dr. Harlow James.”

She got the nerve to turn to see the group of people. They looked exactly how they did on YouTube - cool, fresh, and close knit. Harlow felt like she was looking into a portal to what her life could’ve been. Harlow swallowed hard, the world spinning around her aside from Tyler. His eyes were locked on hers, his face giving none of his thoughts away. Harlow wasn’t as confident in her own facial features. Of all the things to come out of their mouths, she wasn’t expecting one of his crewmates to know about her.

“Of course we know her!” Boone laughed, “We use her weather mapping patterns to plan our-”

Tyler’s boot connected with his side, making him yelp in pain.

She felt her stomach jolt upwards. Harlow gripped Kate’s arm, whispering one word: “Bathroom.”

The blonde took her up the rest of the stairs. The second the door was unlocked, Harlow made a B-line for the bathroom, falling to her knees and emptying her dinner into the toilet. Kate stood awkwardly at the doorway to her hotel room, acting like she couldn’t hear her colleague vomiting through the door. She walked to Harlow’s duffel bag and rummaged through it until she found her mouthwash.

She mulled over if she should check on her or leave her be and throw the mouthwash bottle into the bathroom like it was a grenade. She was given a few extra moments to decide when a knock interrupted her thoughts. Kate opened the door, expecting Javier coming up to apologize for his crew’s actions towards Harlow but instead was met with Tyler Owens.

She couldn’t hide her surprise, “Oh, um, hello.”

He looked down at her hand and saw the travel sized bottle of Listerine. He tried to peer around her, but Kate pulled the door. He realized how it must’ve looked, “I came to check on her. Is she okay? She looked like she was about to faint.”

It was clear there was a history between the two, but Kate couldn’t tell what exactly it was. She wasn’t sure if she cared either. But she wasn’t about to leave this girl who she brought over. Kate tried to lie, to say that she was fine and just using the restroom, but a particularly violent gag sounded out.

He looked like it took all of his willpower to not push Kate out the way and run to the bathroom. “I just need to make sure she’s okay, alright?”

Kate went to deny him again, but Javier came up the stairs at that moment, talking without looking until he got right to her door, “Hey, Kate, I want to apologize about the way they treated Dr. James. It was entirely unprofession- oh . . .”

Javier sized up Tyler, whose jaw was locked. He turned to Kate instead. “Where’s Dr. James? I want to apologize personally.”

“Bathroom.”

He nodded in understanding when he heard another gag and Kate slightly raised the bottle in her hand.

“Please,” Tyler pleaded. “Let me check on her. She will dry heave until she passes out. She’s done it since we were kids.”

Kate wanted to say no, but the sounds were not letting up; if anything, they were getting worse. And she was not good with comforting someone or with bodily fluids. She glanced between the two, eventually stepping outside and handing Tyler the bottle. “Leave the door open.”

“Of course,” he assured her before bolting to the door. He knocked softly and was answered by a dry heave. He swallowed thickly, his voice soft, “Harlow?”

She made no noise of acknowledgement. He knocked again to nothing. He tried the handle, and it was miraculously unlocked. Once the door swung open, he was met with Harlow on her knees, arms wrapped around the toilet, dry heaving so hard her back arched up and down. He got on one knee next to her, gently running a hand down her back as he said her name. Her body shook with another heave. He pulled the hand towel off the bar on the wall and ran it under the faucet before wringing it out and placing it across her burning neck. That seemed to snap her out of the cyclical vomit-dry heave moment she was having. Her breathing started to deepen and even out as she reached up to flush the toilet twice. The redness in her face started to recede. She braced herself to stand, but didn’t have the strength to do so yet and almost stumbled head first into the counter.

Tyler was quick, “Whoa, whoa, darl- Harlow.” His hands reached out to steady her against the counter. She took deep breaths as she regained her bearings, running her hands under the cool water. She washed her mouth out, taking a swig of the mouthwash he offered. She splashed her face with water. She rubbed away the residual tears that formed during her vomit spell. Her mascara was still smudged underneath her eyes.

“Can you uh, grab my toothbrush and a shirt?” He didn’t need any explanation as to why she couldn’t get it herself. He brought them to her after practically emptying her duffel bag contents onto the bed. He ran a soothing hand up and down her back as she kept her eyes on the running water. She took another swig of mouthwash and swallowed it for good measure. He closed his eyes and turned away as she changed her shirt.

“You good?” He asked. She wanted to throw up again at how soft his voice was.

She nodded. She glanced up and met his eyes for a brief second before wiping her nose with a strangled laugh, her voice raspy, “Great first impression.”

She wiped up the water droplets on the counter with the towel he gave her earlier, doing anything to not look at him or acknowledge how close he was after a decade of nothing.

“Harlow.” His voice was still soft, but firm. “What did those guys say to you?”

She scoffed and wiped her wet hands on her shirt before walking out the bathroom. “Nothing I can’t ignore. I’m used to it.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged, putting her things back in her bag that were strewn across the bed, “The usual. No one taking my models seriously because I was the only female graduate in my PhD program and because I’m the only person using them.”

“I use them.”

She pulled the zipper, staring so hard at her bag Tyler thought it might burst into flames, “So I’ve heard.”

There was a beat of silence. “Why’re you working with guys like that?”

That made her look up, eyebrows knitted. “I’m not. I have no clue who they are. I came here as a favor for Kate. We’re professional acquaintances. It was a coincidence we were both here.”

She said too much with that because he immediately asked, “Why are you back in Oklahoma?”

She kept her response short and guarded, “Seeing mom.”

Silence stretched on for an awkward amount of time. Harlow went back to looking at her bag. Tyler’s eyes never left hers.

“Let me take you get food. You just flushed yours down the toilet.”

“No!” Harlow almost jumped back as she heard those words. “No, no, I’m fine.”

He cocked an eyebrow, “When’s the last time you ate?”

“I ate on the way here.”

“And that’s gone. Before that?”

Harlow tried to do the math in her head. She skipped lunch because she was so worried about getting her mother bathed for her night with Ruth. She picked at an egg this morning but couldn’t stomach it, too aware of the texture of it. She wasn’t about to tell him she hadn’t digested a meal since the night before, so she opted for “A while.”

“I’m taking you get food. Come on.”

There was little reason for Harlow to argue - if she said she was going to bed he’d insist on walking her to her room and then she’d have to admit she didn’t have one, or that she was going to get food herself and he’d insist it was pointless to go alone if he was offering to drive.

That’s how the two ended up at a 24/7 diner, cramped into the only booth available next to the front window where everyone walking past could stare at them. It felt very similar to how Harlow felt when the two were a couple in Clearwater: watched, judged, and laughed at.

The two did not talk. Harlow became more comfortable with looking up, so instead of staring at the plate the entire meal, she was able to get as far up as his nose. His eyes were off limits in her mind. If she looked at them this close up, she was sure she’d feel everything she felt that night in the arena come rushing back.

She wasn’t sure how the two ended up in a pasture across from the diner, but she had made the mistake of looking at his eyes when his hand covered hers when the bill came. And she did feel all of those emotions come rushing back. It felt like their argument picked up right where it left off. The tall grass tickled her legs that were now accustomed to fancy lotions.

“I LEFT BECAUSE IT WASN’T FAIR! IT STILL ISN’T!” She shouted at him, hoping no one across the street could hear.

“What are you talking about?” Tyler scoffed.

“I left because the only thing I could ever be in Clearwater was ‘Tyler Owen’s girlfriend.’”

“Would that really have been so bad? A picket fence? A few babies?”

“No! It wouldn’t have! But you got to be Tyler Owens. Hot-shot bullrider extraordinaire. Loved by everyone. I was nothing more than the town smokeshow, and that’s all I would ever be.”

“You chose to go to college!”

“And look where you ended up! Mr. Summa Cum Laude! Why was it okay for you to go and not me?”

Tyler couldn’t hide the shock on his face. “You . . . you kept up with me?”

Harlow nodded. “Yup. Watched the livestream of you graduating. Even though you started a year after me, we still ended up graduating the same year.”

“But why keep up? You left. You went to New York.”

“I was going to UO at first. Wanted to stay close to you. They were gonna pay for everything, can you believe that?” She let out a humorless laugh. “Then we broke up. And my mom told me to go to New York. Get a fresh start. Turns out I fucked up that fresh start, too.”

He knit his brows. “What do you mean?”

Harlow fell onto the tailgate, her feet dangling. She tried to speak but only a sob came out. She hung her head and squeezed her eyes shut, a tear running down her nose and falling onto the dirt. Tyler walked over slowly and apprehensively took a seat next to her. She didn’t move to bite his head off or push him off. After a few seconds, she was able to compose herself to say the words she’d been refusing to say. The ones she refused to repeat to Nurse Kelly. The ones she knew her mom didn’t like. “She’s dying, Tyler. That’s why I came home - to plan her funeral. The doctors gave her until the end of the month. I-I left and never came back, and now I’m never gonna see her again.”

“Oh, baby,” his heart clenched. Of all the people in the world that deserved something like that, Shiloh was the last one. She raised Harlow alone after her father skipped town when she was two. She baked homemade cakes for him on his birthday and included him in Christmas and donated every penny she could to those in Clearwater who needed it. He wrapped his arms around her, and she broke. She held onto his button down and let out the sobs she’d been pretending to not be holding back, the ones she muffled in her pillow at night so she didn’t wake her mom.

She would’ve continued if it hadn’t been for the breeze she felt. It was warm. Like the ones before it, but different. The heat was weighing the breeze down, not being carried by it. She slowly pulled away from Tyler. He tried to say something, but she held her hand out to quiet him. She slowly dismounted from the tailgate, landing on the ground with a thud. Tyler made significantly less noise when he stepped off. Harlow pulled her hair tie out, slipping the band onto her wrist before leaning down and snapping a few blades of grass from the ground.

“Harlow, what are you-” He shut up when she let go, the blades flying away. He understood what spooked her. He suddenly felt the heaviness in the air, the air blowing her hair in the same direction as the grass. Heat lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating a monster cloud. Tyler grabbed her upper arm, “Get in the truck. Now.”

She nodded, racing to the passenger side just as the wind began to pick up. Heading back to the motel was too risky and too far. The best bet was to find shelter in town. Tyler started down the main stretch of road, Harlow screaming out the window for people to find shelter; if it was just her in her rental, she knew that no one would take her seriously. She had no fame and was no household name, but the red truck she was in gave her all the credibility she needed. Pedestrians heeded her warning and turned, fleeing to the nearest buildings. Power began to flicker across the city, darkness rolling in waves as transformers blew. The tornado siren started its song. Tyler had to intervene by rolling the passenger side window up on his control panel once the hail started, Harlow getting pelted as she stuck her head out to yell warnings.

“The hail is enough extra warning for them, sweetheart. Look for a shelter we can go into.”

Her eyes scanned, but the lack of power made it hard to see anything, even with the flashes of lightning. But then she pointed to the right, “Look! A motel! They most likely have one!”

He pulled into the parking lot, not caring how shittily he parked. But to the two’s horror, there were still three people in the lobby and they were soon joined by a mother and daughter. The young woman was laughing at their nervous state.

“Chill, guys, 9 times out of 10 there’s not even a tornado.”

The other two men were arguing about a bad Yelp review. Tyler instructed her to find a shelter, stating he’d round up everyone in the lobby. Harlow never ran so fast in her life. She checked every room, but found no doors that led to a storm shelter. She felt her heart fall to her stomach as she returned to the lobby to tell them they’d have to try and stick it out there. But out the corner of her eyes she saw the empty pool. “Tyler! Over here!”

He guided them all to the door she was at. “We have to run for it.”

The mother, daughter, and shop owner nodded. The other two scoffed, refusing to admit that a tornado was making its way down main street. Tyler nodded to Harlow and she unlatched the door. It swung off its hinges and flew across the parking lot, then she patted the mother and daughter to go, then the clerk.

“This is your last chance! Come with us!”The two others shook their heads, finally starting to understand the severity, but too scared to venture out. Tyler could not wait any longer; he grabbed Harlow’s arm and pushed her out before going last. They caught up quickly, each helping the other three down the ladder.

Her voice was getting sucked away by the howling wind, “Get to the pipes! Hold on! Do not let go!”

She tried to help Tyler down, but he pulled his arm back. “Absolutely not! Harlow, get in and do not wait for me!”

There was no time to argue. She could hash this out with him when they made it out of this. He grabbed onto her torso and helped her descend. She immediately ducked down, making a run for the pipes. Tyler was right behind her, until he wasn’t: the clerk stood up to see the tornado behind them and got sucked to the middle of the pool. He held onto the ladder, but had to let go and duck when a vending machine flew towards him. Tyler fell to his belly, making his way around the machine, reaching his hand out for the man. But the man ignored Tyler’s warning. He got to his knees to reach Tyler’s hand faster. Harlow watched in horror as the man hit the side of the pool with a crunch before getting sucked away.

She was crying just as the mom and daughter were; the screws of the pipes shook with the strength of the tornado that was rapidly gaining on them. Tyler was slowly making his way back over to the group on his belly. She screamed his name, but it was covered by the sound of a train horn. She hooked her arm through the pipe and extended her body as far out as she could, trying to reach him.

He wanted to shout at her, to tell her to get back against the pipes, that he wasn’t letting her mom bury her, that he wasn’t going to bury her. But if she hadn’t done that, he’d be dead right now. Just as he made it back to her and wrapped her body in his, a truck flew into the pool and wedged itself above them. He could feel her heartbeat hammering; he tried to tighten his grip on her, his biceps protecting her head as he ducked his own. He whispered soothing, sweet nothings against her head.

The winds slowed, but her breathing was still hard. He broke first, trying to move to peek around the truck to ensure they were in the clear, but Harlow moved her hands to grip one of his arms. He squeezed one of her hands and placed it back on the pipe. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

She returned to her death grip on the pipe. He was back seconds later to pry her off and bring her above. The mother and daughter thanked them with tears in their eyes. Harlow knew she should be embarrassed at how she was clinging to Tyler the same way the girl was clinging to her mother. But he didn’t seem to mind. He let her cling to him as they waited for the rest of his crew to arrive for relief efforts. Once they did, he sat her in the passenger seat of his truck. He tried to help set up tables with food and water, but Lily shooed him away with two bottles of water.

She nodded in the direction of his truck where Harlow was on the phone, her body shaking from the adrenaline crash. “She needs you more than we do. Get her back safe. We have it from here.”

He glanced between Lily and Harlow. He wanted to ask if she was sure, but he knew Lily wouldn’t let him leave if they truly needed his help, so he thanked her and went to start up the truck just as she was hanging up the phone.

“She okay?” He didn’t have to ask who it was. There was only one person who Harlow went to for comfort.

She wiped at her cheek, “Yeah, yeah. Not even a drop of rain. She’s with Ruth.”

That made Tyler let out a belly laugh. “Are we sure they didn’t cause this?”

Harlow laughed wetly, “I would not bet money against it.”

When they arrived at the motel, Tyler was adamant on walking her to her room and getting her settled. It was nearing 1AM. Harlow looked at her lap and scratched at the nape of her neck. “So, uh, about that . . .”

He cocked an eyebrow, motioning with his hand for her to continue.

“I was gonna sleep in my rental. There’s no vacancy.”

He looked at her incredulously, “You’re joking, right?”

She stayed quiet.

“So you were just planning on getting here and sleeping in your truck?”

She shook her head, “No, I just wasn’t expecting every storm chaser in America to be at this motel. That or I was going to go home. Kate said there was still vacancy when we talked on the phone. She even verified that there were a handful of rooms left.”

“Well you’re not sleeping in your truck, absolutely not.” He turned his truck off, grabbing her duffle bag he threw into the backseat earlier.

She looked at him questioningly, holding her hand out for her bag, “Then I’m going home.”

“No. You are not driving half an hour in the dark right after you just waited out a tornado in a pool, especially not to be home alone. And you’re not sleeping in the backseat of an untinted rental in a parking lot, especially not one where I have confirmation that there are people here who do not respect you. You’re staying in my room.”

“I can’t!”

“Relax, I’ll sleep in the chair.”

Harlow felt her face flush. “That’s - that’s not what I meant. You paid for the room. You need to sleep in a bed without having to worry about your ex-girlfriend who dry heaves as an anxiety response.”

He rounded the truck by the time she finished talking. He reached over and unbuckled her, grabbing her hand to help her down. He shut the door behind her. “I didn’t care before, don’t care now. Come on, we need showers.”

“I’m sleeping on the chair then.”

“Yeah, sure.” He replied sarcastically.

He all but forced her to go first; while she washed all the dirt and mud off herself, he prepared a makeshift bed on the chair with bedding he found in the closet. It smelled of mildew, but there was no way he was giving her those blankets and keeping the ones on the bed for himself.

When she came out in a towel, he nearly tripped over the footstool he was adding padding to. He slammed his eyes shut and turned around. “A heads up would’ve been nice.”

He could hear the embarrassment in her voice, “I said your name like 4 times but you didn’t respond. I thought you were asleep. I have shorts on, I was just coming to get my other shirt from my bag.”

He felt silly talking to the wall with his eyes closed. “Don’t tell me you mean Throw Up shirt.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

He groaned in frustration, reaching blindly for the pile of clothes he set out for himself. He felt for his shirt and tossed it in her direction. The noise of it hitting the wall let him know he missed, but he heard her shuffling to pick it up.

“Thank you.”

Tyler was about to scold her again when he opened the bathroom door, steam wafting out into the room, but found her asleep in the chair. She was curled into herself, legs pulled to her chest and secured by the mildew blanket. He shook his head in disbelief and pulled at the blanket to try and wake her up. She groaned and pulled the blanket back against herself.

“Harlow. Wake up. Take the bed.”

She simply groaned in response, turning to tuck her head farther against the chair.

“Baby, I’m not playing this game. Take the bed.”

Her words were almost incoherent, but he managed to decipher them, “If I’m in th’ bed, then you will be too. M’not takin’ from you.”

“Suit yourself, then.” He said, placing one arm under her back and the other under her knees, lifting her and bringing her to the bed.

He let her get settled and couldn’t ignore her shivers. He reduced the fan speed on the AC before climbing into bed behind her, his back to the door. He kept distance between the two of them, but she was shaking so hard it nearly turned the mattress into a massage bed.

“C’mere.” He hooked his arm around her torso and pulled her into himself. He was still pulsing with warmth from the shower. “You wouldn’t be cold if you had used hot water for your shower.”

He wasn’t aware if she was conscious or if she was acting on instinct, but she curled up into him, fitting like the puzzle piece he’d been missing for a decade.

Two and a half weeks passed. And so did her mother. Kelly announced her.

Her first call was the coroner’s office. Her second was Tyler. It had been radio silence since that night in the motel. He walked her to her car and made her promise to text her when she got home safe; aside from that, Tyler was trying to mentally piece himself back together enough to go back to never seeing Harlow James again.

The phone hadn’t even finished its first ring before he picked up. She was sobbing and incoherent, but he knew. He promised her he’d be there as soon as he could; he beat the police. He held her as she sobbed for her mom on the lawn as they wheeled her out the house. She spent every moment since that night with her mom, even those nights at Ruth’s. She savored every moment with the woman who raised her, but it wasn’t enough. She had too many memories of New York, and not enough of her mother. Her visits were so infrequent that her mother's weight loss was stark instead of gradual. But she knew if she had the chance to do it all again, her mother would be the one telling her to do it, that in order to find herself, she had to start anew.

Tyler was one of the pallbearers. After he did his duty, he found his place right back next to her. He held her while she cried, while she laughed, and while she sat there blankly. Everyone in town talked about how good it was to see the two together again despite the circumstances. And Harlow found herself wondering if maybe her mother knew this was how it was going to end all along. That she could be happy in this town. That the storm he caused would only be tamed by him.

And maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t be pretending anymore.

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