#I had to take the screen shot with my phone

[loafysainz]

🎥 SENDING DIRTY TEXT TO MY HUSBAND AROUND BUNCH OF PEOPLE

cast: carlos sainz, lewis hamilton, lando norris, max verstappen, charles leclerc, oscar piastri, george russell × reader!

warn: 18+, smut, minor dni

hope you guys enjoy it!

carlos sainz

Carlos is sitting at the dinner table, surrounded by his family, deep in conversation with his father when his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, expecting something harmless—until he sees your message:

"I can still feel you from last night. My legs are shaking just thinking about it. Maybe you should do something about it later, mi amor."

He chokes on his drink, eyes widening as his mother pats his back, oblivious to the heat rushing to his face. His fingers tighten around his phone as he clears his throat, throwing you a sharp look from across the table. You, sitting there sweetly, sip your wine like you didn’t just set him on fire.

Carlos leans closer, voice low but urgent. "Cariño, you can’t do this to me here."

But the way his jaw clenches, the darkening of his eyes, tells you he’s already planning his revenge for later.

lewis hamilton

The music is loud, drinks flowing as Lewis chats with a few celebrities in the VIP lounge. He’s mid-sentence when his phone vibrates. Casually pulling it out, he takes a quick glance—then freezes.

"I miss having your hands all over me. Maybe we should sneak out and you can remind me how good they feel?"

His lips part slightly, tongue running over his teeth as he exhales sharply. He tilts his head back, taking a slow sip of his drink, but his grip on the glass tightens.

You’re across the room, acting innocent, but when his gaze meets yours, he smirks. Oh, you’re in trouble now.

Lewis leans against the booth, texting back, “Meet me in five. Don’t bother fixing your dress. I’ll ruin it anyway.”

lando norris

Lando is laughing, lining up his shot, when his phone dings. He doesn’t think twice before checking it—only for his eyes to nearly pop out of his skull.

"Imagine me on my knees for you right now. Bet you wouldn’t be able to focus on your little golf game, huh?"

He fumbles his club, nearly dropping it as a deep red flush spreads over his face. The guys around him notice immediately.

“Lando, you good, mate?” Max Fewtrell grins.

“Uh—yeah, yeah, just—uh, hot out here, isn’t it?”

You wink at him from the golf cart, and he shoots you a warning look, shifting awkwardly as he tries to compose himself.

Later, he grabs you by the waist, voice low and desperate. “You’re so dead when we get home.”

max verstappen

Max is in the hospitality lounge, joking with Christian and a few engineers, when he checks his phone under the table. His body stiffens immediately.

"I can still taste you on my lips. Wonder if you'd rather me use my mouth somewhere else next time."

He nearly drops his phone. His face is unreadable, but you know him too well—the slight clench of his jaw, the way he shifts in his seat.

Christian nudges him. “Something wrong?”

Max clears his throat. “No. Nothing.” But his ears are red.

You catch his eye from across the room, biting your lip playfully. He exhales through his nose, tapping out a reply:

"Hotel room. Now."

charles leclerc

Charles is lounging on the deck, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends when his phone lights up. He checks it—and immediately sits up straighter.

"I wish I were sitting on your lap right now… but not in a way that’s appropriate for this party."

His breath hitches, fingers tightening around the glass. He shifts, crossing his legs to conceal his growing problem. His brother Arthur notices.

"Charles, pourquoi tu fais cette tête?" (Why do you look like that?)

"Rien," he mumbles quickly, shoving his phone into his pocket.

You smirk, and he glares at you before texting back, “Keep playing, mon amour. See what happens when we get home.”

oscar piastri

Oscar is laughing with his engineers when he checks his phone. His face immediately changes.

"You looked so good this morning. Wish I’d had more time to be on top of you before you left."

His breath catches in his throat. He coughs, nearly choking on his drink. Andrea Stella raises a brow.

"You okay, Oscar?"

"Yep. Fine. Just—uh, spicy food."

He doesn’t dare look at you, knowing the second he does, he’s screwed. Instead, he sends a quick text back:

"You better be naked when I get back."

george russell

George is the picture of politeness, sipping his tea while his mother chats about the weather. Then his phone vibrates.

He checks it discreetly—only to nearly spit out his drink.

"Wouldn’t it be fun if I slipped under the table right now and made you lose composure in front of everyone?"

His grip on the cup tightens, and he clears his throat loudly, shifting in his seat. His mother eyes him.

"Everything alright, love?"

"Yep, just—uh—just remembered something from work."

You blink innocently at him from across the table, and he clenches his jaw before texting back:

"You are absolutely wicked. But don't worry, I’ll make you beg for mercy later."

END

you can share your thought/ideas my box always open!! 🤍

[maskedbyghost]

Simon knew marriage came with adjustments, but nothing could have prepared him for life with a writer.

It wasn’t just the weird questions—though there were plenty of those—it was the way your mind never seemed to slow down. You’d be doing something completely normal, like folding laundry, and suddenly stop, eyes going distant.

He’d barely have time to ask what was wrong before you’d rush off to scribble something down, muttering about plot twists and character arcs.

Sometimes, he’d wake up in the middle of the night to find you sitting up in bed, phone screen lighting up your face as you frantically typed notes because “this idea can’t wait until morning.”

It meant half-finished coffee cups scattered around the house, abandoned when inspiration hit.

It meant narrating your own actions under your breath, like “she sighed, stretching her arms above her head” while actually doing it, which always made him raise an eyebrow.

And then there were the moments that made him question everything, like when you casually asked if he thought someone could realistically survive being shot twice in the chest or how long a body would take to decompose in a swamp. He used to answer with concern. Now, he barely looked up. “For a book?” “For a book.”

At first, he thought the strangest part was the research, but then he realized it was how easily you pulled him into it. You used him for everything—testing out fight scenes by making him grab your wrist so you could figure out how a character would escape, running your hands over his shoulders and down his arms as you mumbled about muscle structure and “what kind of build do you think my main guy should have?”

You studied him constantly, stealing phrases he said, describing his expressions in your notes, even admitting once that a few of your male characters had a bit of his attitude.

And then there was the way you used him for other inspiration. He figured it out one evening when he saw you sitting on the couch, staring at him with that look—one that usually meant you had something on your mind, but this time, you weren’t saying anything. Just watching.

He glanced over from where he was cleaning his gun. “What?”

You didn’t answer right away, just tilted your head slightly. “I think I want to write a new scene.”

He raised his brow, setting his things aside. “What kind of scene?”

A small smile played on your lips as you stood, walking toward him. “Something a bit messy.”

Simon leaned back, arms resting lazily on the couch as he looked you up and down. “You need details, then?”

“Mhm.” You straddled his lap, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. “Need to get it just right.”

He smirked, his hands settling on your waist. “That why you’re lookin’ at me like I’m about to be put to work?”

“You don’t mind a little hard work, do you?” you teased, nails scraping lightly against his skin.

His grip tightened, voice low. “Not if you’re gonna make it worth my while.”

Much later, when you were tangled in the sheets, catching your breath, you rolled over and reached for your phone. Before you could even unlock it, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against Simon’s chest. “Nope,” he muttered against your shoulder.

You laughed. “I just had a thought—”

“Don’t care.” His voice was warm and heavy with sleep. “Whatever you’re about to write down, you can remember it in the morning.”

“But—”

A hand slid down your hip, fingers pressing into your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I said, in the morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. Then, just to make sure you listened, he added, “Be a good girl and go to sleep.”

Your entire body heated at the words, your brain short-circuiting for a second before snapping into overdrive. Without a word, you bolted upright, nearly diving for your phone as you started typing furiously.

Simon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you serious?”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, fingers flying across the screen. “This is really good.”

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

@daydreamerwoah

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

Since you love it when people expanded your storyline, please allow me to entertain you about Cas because this is right up my alley @onelinerbust

Something extraordinary happened to me earlier today. As I smugly grin with my roommate to our enhanced reflection in the mirror, my mind wandered to 10 hours ago when that hit me.

My fingers, stained with Cheeto dust and smelling faintly of lukewarm ramen, hammered away at the keyboard, lines of Python code blooming on the screen like digital weeds. The hum of the server rack in the corner was my white noise, the flickering monitor my campfire. This was my life, resident basement dweller in a leafy, aggressively liberal campus more interested in protesting free speech than actually engaging with it.

My world consisted of logic gates, late-night coding sessions, and the occasional awkward conversation with a teaching assistant about why my sorting algorithm was eating up more memory than a browser running Chrome. Social life? Non-existent. Romantic prospects? Laughable. I’d spend my weekends huddled in the dimly lit computer lab, bathed in the cool glow of screens, while the rest of the campus pulsed with parties and… well, whatever else regular college kids did. I wouldn't know. Regular wasn't in my programming.

*bzzzt bzzzt*

Little did I know back then, it was the catalyst. It was a rarity for someone to message me, most of the time people reached me through the more accessible socials, message to my phone number usually ended up as spam. But something – a flicker of boredom, maybe – made me pick it up and unlock it.

The message was long, rambling, and…...weird.

“Cas, wake the fuck up. This is a trick, you are NOT a spineless soyboy. You’re supposed to be a GOD, remember? 🤯 Alpha💪🏻. American 🇺🇸. White 🫵🏻. You have all it takes to become the God that you are destined to be! 🦅🦅🦅🇺🇸 This is not it! Look at you, pathetic. Remember gridiron glory? Friday night lights? The roar of the crowd as you, Chad ‘The Crusher’ Kensington, leading your team to victory? 🏈🏈🏆 Remember the cheerleaders, their pom-poms a blur, their eyes hungry for you? Remember the taste of victory, the scent of their slick pussy🍑😏, the adoration in their eyes when they kneel to your greatness🍆💦🧠? You deserve it all. It’s your birthright. This woke bullshit campus is trying to neuter you, but deep down, the alpha is still there. Let him out. Unleash the beast 😤👹👹 They want weakness? Show them power. They want equality? Show them hierarchy. They want gentleness? Show them dominance. Go take what's yours, Chad. Grab your crown and spoil, king 👑, you know I'm right and you approve this message! 😤😤

The message was punctuated with emojis – flexing biceps, crowns, American flags, and an unsettling number of suggestive faces. My brow furrowed. This had to be some kind of elaborate prank. Some right-wing troll farm had probably gotten hold of my number. I was about to delete it when a strange warmth spread in my chest. Like a shot of something potent and unfamiliar.

It started small. A tingling in my fingers, then a tightening in my gut, like I'd just downed a gallon of protein shake. My vision sharpened, my glasses become an obstacle so I took it down. The code on the screen, which had been a comforting blur of familiar symbols, now seemed almost… insulting. My shoulders straightened instinctively. I flexed my fingers, and there was…more there. Definitely more. Concerned, I decided to make a dash to the bathroom, trying to relive myself and not disturb the others with my painful groan

As I entered the empty, secluded bathroom, that was when it hit.

It wasn't a slow transition. It was a goddamn reality shift. One second, I was Cas, the hunched-over coder, the next…I trembled on the floor as my body screamed with a new kind of awareness. My skin flushed with heat as it gets tighter, stretched over something hard and defined. Muscles. Real muscles. Not the flabby kind that comes from hauling bags of chips from the store to the dorm. These were….sculpted....powerful, dare I say.

Despite my attempt to look at my surroundings and begging for help, I only let out a weak, pathetic whimper as my gaze dropped to my swelling arms. I ripped off my oversized, stained hoodie, the fabric tearing slightly at the seams. The skinny, pale limbs I’d known my entire life were gone. It was replaced by thick, corded arms with veins popping under my now tanned, still-white skin. I managed to get some control over my trembling, swelling form, as I pushed myself to stand up. Then, as if a truck just hit me, my reflection stared back from the dirty bathroom mirror

It wasn't me, I thought rightaway, but a painful glitch hit my brain and I relaxed afterward.

The round, soft face was gone. Sharp angles had emerged – a strong jawline, high cheekbones. My eyes, which had always been a bland, watery blue behind thick glasses, were now a piercing, intense steel-grey, framed by this intimidating, darker eyebrows. My boring, unimpressive thin brunette with signs of receding hairline, had thickened, styled into a coiffed, blonde cut that framed my face perfectly. And… holy shit, my chest. I was enamored by the sight of it…defined...yet pillowy too, definitely the kind of pecs that can hypnotize anyone that stared at it for too long

The rest of my torso were equally outstanding, rippling with muscle and power beyond even my wildest imagination. A six-pack, for Christ’s sake! I ran a hand over my stomach, feeling the hard ridges beneath my skin. It felt… alien. And utterly, undeniably amazing.

Below the Adonis belt… well, let’s just say things were… proportionately enhanced. The message hadn't lied. Eight inches? Minimum. This wasn't just a physical transformation. It was…fundamental. A complete rewrite of my being.

And the memories…they flooded in, vivid and visceral, like a lifetime I’d somehow forgotten. Friday night lights. The roar of the crowd. Me, Chad Kensington, throwing a perfect spiral, the ball whistling through the air, finding my receiver in the end zone for the winning touchdown. Cheerleaders chanting my name. The hot press of bodies in the locker room, the smell of sweat and victory. The adoring gazes of girls, lining up for a piece of me.

Chad Kensington. That's me now. That had always been me. And this Cas memory… this weak, nerdy shell, this “Cas,” was just some… aberration. A glitch in the matrix, finally corrected.

A surge of pure, unadulterated testosterone pulsed through my veins. I thought to myself, this is power. This is dominance. This is what I was meant to be.

I remembered that I reached down, gripped myself through my sweatpants – they were suddenly too tight, too strained at the seams – and started to stroke hard, the phantom memories of cheering crowds and eager pussy fueling my hand. Chad Kensington, college star. Chad Kensington, panty-dropper extraordinaire. Chad Kensington, alpha male supreme. The image solidified in my mind, burning hot and real. I came hard all over the bathroom, my streak of thick, white cum painted the tiles, the mirror and even coagulated at the sink, the force of it surprising even myself, the false memory of adoration and conquest washing over me like a tidal wave.

When I finally opened my eyes, still breathing heavily, I realized that this would the very last time I would be jacking off to my dick in such a pathetic state. My baby batter would not be wasted in an empty, secluded bathroom like that so I quickly put my clothes back on and dashed to the computer lab to made my exit from the confine of that oppressive cage.

As I entered the lab, I remembered it suddenly felt… suffocating. Small. Pathetic. It wasn't my place anymore. Chad Kensington didn’t belong in a basement coding Phyton and shit. He belonged out there, dominating, conquering, taking what was rightfully his.

"Chad, what took you so long?"

Yeah, that was fun. Ramsey......did that pathetic TA really tried to intimidate me with that furrowed brow of his and confined me with bureaucracy BS? Well, he better be fuckin' jacked first before starting to act tough to me. Then, my brain started working. Maybe Ramsey can be less of a whiny, judgy TA if he received the message, so I just forwarded the message to him and smirked as I told him that I sent my reason to his personal messenger and I need to get the fuck out of here ASAP. He turned around and started to read the chat, and from the small glimpse that I managed to peek, the message is different from what I received! That's when the realization hit me. I legit mouthed "Damn" to myself as I realized that it's adaptive......like, that shit can change based on who read it. That revelation made my head spin, that message was indeed some fucking precisive, hi-tech work there. But the effect seemed to be the same, it made the reader into its best version of themselves, because how do you explain that a fucking algorithmic TA all-in-a-sudden have the built of a jacked bull like that, huh?

As he allowed me to grab my bag and leave the lab with a knowing nod, my stomach growled – not from hunger, but from a different kind of hunger. A primal urge. And then it brought me back to this very room as I remembered Kate, Jason's girlfriend. I know Jason, my roommate, was still at his stupid philosophy club meeting as I cleaned out my table, probably droning on about existential dread and Kate.....Kate was always… around, waiting for him. She's pretty enough, in a bland, accessible way. And always subtly, almost unconsciously, throwing glances my way. I knew even from back then that it must be the fucked up, corrupt message that made me think that way because Kate would never glanced to pathetic, asocial Cas, but at the same time, I was hit by this duality as I remembered myself as NOT Cas. Of course she glanced at me, I'm Chad fucking Kensington and people will not only glance my way, they will snap their head to view my greatness.

I strode out of the computer lab, my newfound muscles rippling under my thin tanktop (which also felt alarmingly small and tight). The campus walkways felt different. People noticed me. Heads turned. Girls giggled. Guys gave me that wary, respectful nod that alphas exchanged. It was intoxicating.

When I finally arrived at my dorm room, it was unlocked, as usual. Jason was perpetually trusting, another symptom of his pathetic beta male existence, I thought. I pushed it open, and there she was, Kate, sprawled on Jason's bed, scrolling through her phone, oblivious.

“Hey,” I said, my voice deeper, rougher than I remembered. Chad’s voice.

She looked up, startled as I take my shirt off so casually to reveal the sheen of sweat that seemingly coated my body. Her eyes widened, lingering on my… physique. A flicker of something in her eyes I recognized – desire – flashed in them.

“Cas? Uh.... sorry, the room is unlocked, Jason said.....I....I can wait in his bed. You just finished with practice?” Her voice was breathy, a little uncertain.

“Chad,” I corrected, stepping closer. “It’s Chad,"

She swallowed, her gaze dropping to my chest. “Chad,” she repeated, testing the name on her lips as I can see the memory started to jog on her brain. “Yeah, Chad.”

“Jason’s not here,” I stated, knowing it wasn’t a question.

She shook her head, a nervous laugh escaping her. “No, he’s… still in philosophy club.”

“Right,” I said, closing the distance between us. I reached out, my hand closing around her wrist, pulling her to her feet. Her skin was soft, yielding in my grip. Too soft. She needed to be hardened up. Tamed.

“By the way, read your phone, dropped something you would be interested to read," I said, glancing at her phone with a knowing smirk as I decided that she would be my first female guinea pig

I watched it in real time how the bland, average-looking Kate started to get way more prettier, leagues above Jason definitely, the curve gets wilder and her face really turned exactly how I imagined a sultry blonde bimbo falling head over heels for me would look like. So, after proving my little theory to be correct, that the message is transformative beyond men, I decided to test out yet another probability. Her slightly vacant eyes gave me idea as I saw a potential to create more excitement, more chaos, so I grabbed her by the chin to made her stare at me and start digging

"You get close to my roommate just to have chances to be in the same room with me, don't you? You're not the brightest girl out there, Cathy, I can see right through your play,"

Bingo, I smirked in my mind. That mind was jogging hard to made my words her reality. And since I have started anyway, I decided to take it up a notch to made my words her Bible

"In fact, you always fantasize Jason as me, right? This room smelled like me, you can taste me in the air so when you close your eyes as Jason fucked you, that mind of yours played this little game to make you think I was the one doing the fucking, huh? That's why you always come here earlier than Jason and I, you imprinted my fucking musk in your head by digging through my dirty laundry and closet so you can go through that unimpressive sex with Jason with me in mind, don't you? Well, he's not around, so why not use this time for you to just taste the real thing?"

She didn’t resist as I pulled her closer, my body pressing against hers. And seemingly taken over by her wilder, improved side, she started licking and kissing my abs

We were on Jason's bed in seconds, her clothes ripped open, the cheap fabric tearing easily under my hands. She moaned like a slut in heat, calling my name like I'm his God and only savior which fueled my dominance. It was power. It was control. It was… right.

Just as I was piledriving my cock into her now very irresistibly tight pussy, the door swung open. Jason stood there, textbooks clutched in his hand, his jaw dropping as he took in the scene. Me, thrusting hard into his girlfriend, her muffled moan filling the room.

“Cas?!” His voice was a strangled squawk.

I paused, looking up at him, a smirk playing on my lips. “Chad,” I corrected again. “And you need to check your phone, Jason,”

He stared at me, bewildered, then slowly lowered his gaze to his phone, which he thankfully had in his pocket. He fumbled it out, unlocked it with trembling fingers, and then… his eyes widened. He read something on the screen, his face shifting, contorting.

The change wasn’t as instantaneous as mine had been, but it was happening. His posture straightened. His shoulders broadened. His soft, doughy face hardened, angles emerging where there had been curves. His eyes sharpened, losing their bewildered puppy-dog look, gaining a new, predatory gleam.

“Holy… fuck,” he breathed, dropping his textbooks to the floor with a thud. He looked at me, a grin spreading across his transformed face, a grin that mirrored my own. “Chad?”

“Welcome to the club, bro,” I said, nodding. “Plenty to go around.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He ripped off his shirt, revealing a surprisingly decent set of pecs that I didn’t remember being there before. He was still smaller than me, but… he was getting there. Fast.

Without a word, he joined me on the bed. Cathy, who had been silent and still during the initial shock of Jason’s arrival, moaned again as he climbed on top of her, his gaze now burning with the same predatory hunger I felt.

We tag-teamed her, me dealing with her now bubbly, curvy ass while Jason handled the front, his now uncut 6 inchers really bruised her throay in a brutal, animalistic act of dominance. Tears and sweat leaked out of her alongside the obvious pussy juices and saliva, but she's not really protesting despite all the shit we did to her, just… taking it. Submitting. Like the good, cheerleader slut she was. It was… satisfying. In a deeply, disturbingly primal way.

Later, after we were done, Cathy panted for breath looking like a total wrecked mess on Jason's bed as I and Jason stood side-by-side, flexing in front of the mirror. The dorm room felt… different. Charged. Alive. With power.

As my mind snapped back to the current situation and how much change I have caused, Jason's question really cause a stir in my mind

“Think this… message… can do this to anyone?” Jason asked, running a hand over his newly defined jawline.

I smirked. “Oh I know this shit can do it to anyone. But let's see how far this can go,"

I pulled out my phone, found the message, and forwarded it to the Computer Science group chat. A chat filled with other pathetic, nerdy guys like I used to be. Guys who needed… guidance. Correction.

Almost instantly, phones started buzzing and pinging around the dorm. Then, shouts. Yells. The sound of furniture being overturned. Loud, aggressive music blaring from open windows. Footsteps pounding in the hallway.

Jason and I exchanged a glance. Then we grinned. Wide, feral grins.

The campus is about to change. And Chad Kensington, along with his newly minted alpha brothers, is going to be leading the charge. My birthright, after all.

[semisasseater]

YOU THE TYPA GIRL TO REALLY HEAL MY SCAR ─ se-mi

pairing : gf!se-mi x fem!reader Tw : Angst, trauma, PTSD, implied violence, mentions of death, emotional distress, survivor’s guilt, lying/deception, but ends with comfort/fluff. Summary : se-mi was filled with guilt. she felt like she should’ve died, until she remembered why she kept going and came back to the reason she kept going. wc : 2.2k (i think.) authors note : guys don’t attack me but i don’t read bad thinking diary.. so uh yeah but the photos look cute and aesthetically so! also guys it’s mine and my wife gabby 9 year anniversary of being together!! we’re getting married soon trust!! she’s mine yall sorry not sorry heh.. Not proofread

if you enjoyed likes or reblogs would be amazing! feedback is appreciated also requests are open!!

The sound of a metal car door creaking open was deafening in the silence. The cold night air hit se-mi’s skin as she went outside for the first time in weeks. The streetlights flickered overhead, bathing the pavement in a dim glow, but nothing felt real. It was too quiet. Too normal.

Her hands clenched tightly around the credit card she carried after she got untied and took it out her mouth—stuffed full of blood money. Money that had come at the cost of hundreds of lives. Her legs trembled beneath her as she took cautious steps forward, half-expecting another game to start, another command to follow.

But it was over.

She had won.

The images of the games flashed through her mind. The red light, green light massacre. The six-legged race where she had barely escaped elimination. Mingle, where players had to form groups in rooms or be shot on the spot in rooms or not in a room. And Lights Out—the nightmarish free-for-all where trust had meant nothing, where she had to kill or be killed.

Her breath hitched as she remembered the blood on her hands, the screams, the desperation.

She should be dead.

And yet, here she was.

Shakily, se-mi reached for her phone, which had been returned to her at the floor. The screen was cracked, but it still lit up. As soon as it did, her heart clenched.

1,273 unread messages. 342 missed calls.

Every single one from her.

Her girlfriend.

Her Y/N.

Her thumb hovered over the messages, dread pooling in her stomach as she scrolled through them.

y/n: se-mi? Where are you?

y/n: baby please call me, I’m scared.

y/n: It’s been two days. Please don’t do this to me.

y/n: I don’t care what happened, I just need to know you’re okay.

y/n: It’s been WEEKS. Did you leave me? Please tell me you didn’t just disappear on purpose.

y/n: I love you. Please, just come back to me.

The texts grew longer, more desperate, more broken. The last one had been sent just hours ago.

y/n: I don’t think I can sleep tonight. I miss you so much. I just want you to be safe.

A sharp pain twisted in se-mi’s chest. She had been so focused on surviving that she hadn’t thought about what her disappearance had done to Y/N.

She had to fix this.

Without hesitation, she flagged down a taxi and gave the address to their shared apartment.

She was going home.

.

The apartment.

She hesitated before unlocking the door, remembering the guilt, the fear, the heartbreak in those texts.

Then, taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.

Her gaze landed on the couch immediately.

There she was.

Y/N was curled up under a blanket, her face turned toward the door as if she had fallen asleep waiting for se-mi to come home. Even in the dim light, se-mi could see her tear-streaked cheeks, her puffy eyes.

She had cried herself to sleep.

Se-mi’s throat tightened as she knelt beside her, hesitating before reaching out. With a gentle touch, she brushed a strand of hair from Y/N’s face before softly shaking her shoulder.

“Baby… wake up.”

A sleepy murmur escaped Y/N’s lips as she stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, groggy with sleep, before focusing on se-mi’s face.

At first, there was confusion.

Then—shock.

And then, tears.

“S-se-mi…?” Y/N’s voice cracked, disbelief evident in her tone.

Se-mi swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a small smile. “Hi baby…”

Before she could say anything else, Y/N threw herself into se-mi’s arms, clutching her tightly. “Oh my god—oh my god—I thought you were—” Her words broke off into sobs as she held onto se-mi as if she’d disappear again. “I thought you were dead. I thought you left me. I thought—”

“I know” se-mi whispered, guilt settling deep into her bones. “I know, love, I’m so sorry…”

She couldn’t tell the truth.

Couldn’t tell Y/N about the blood, the bodies, the screams that still echoed in her head.

So she lied.

“It was… a work trip” she said quickly. “I had to go last minute. They took my phone, all my things. I couldn’t call you, couldn’t text you. I—I should have told you before I left, but I didn’t have time.”

Y/N pulled back, eyes searching se-mi’s face, still wet with tears. “You were gone for three weeks.”

“I know” se-mi said, forcing herself to hold Y/N’s gaze. “And I hate myself for it. But I promise you—I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath before nodding, her hands trembling as they cupped se-mi’s cheeks. “I don’t care where you were. I don’t care about anything else. I just… I’m just so glad you’re back.”

Se-mi’s heart ached as she leaned in, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to Y/N’s lips. The warmth, the love, the relief—it was all there. Y/N kissed her back just as desperately, as if trying to make up for all the lost time.

The next morning, se-mi made good on her promise.

They went to the mall, shopping for everything Y/N wanted. Plushies, makeup, skincare—anything that could bring a smile to her face. Se-mi even surprised her with the Pink Chakra Heart Ring from Pandora, something Y/N had always wanted.

“Oh my god—Se-mi I love you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Y/N squealed, hugging her tightly and peppering kisses all over her face.

Se-mi chuckled, squeezing her close. “Of course baby anything for you.”

But even as they laughed and enjoyed their day together, se-mi couldn’t ignore the gnawing weight in her chest.

The nightmares didn’t stop.

The screams still echoed in her head.

But every time she jolted awake, sweating, shaking, Y/N was there—holding her, whispering soft reassurances, grounding her back to reality.

“I’m here baby you’re safe.”

And for the first time since she left that place, se-mi believed it.

She had survived.

And that’s because, she had something worth living for.

@semisasseater

[ilovegyokeres]

Celebrity Crush- Kenan Yildiz

Genre: Romance, Comedy, Celebrity AU

Summary: During an interview on The Tonight Show, actress/singer Y/N confesses that her celebrity crush is Juventus star Kenan Yıldız.

The energy in the Tonight Show studio was electric, the audience buzzing with anticipation as Jimmy Fallon grinned at you from across the desk.

“Alright, Y/N, we’re about to play a game we all love—Answer or Eat!”

The crowd erupted into cheers while you laughed, shaking your head. You had seen celebrities suffer through this game before, forced to either answer deeply personal questions or eat something disgusting. Now, it was your turn.

“Okay, so we have some great options here,” Jimmy said, motioning toward the tray of nightmare-inducing food. “We’ve got a sardine smoothie, pickled pig’s feet, and—oh, this one’s special—hot sauce so spicy it made The Rock cry.”

Your eyes widened in horror as the camera zoomed in on the fiery red sauce.

“Oh my God,” you groaned. “I already regret agreeing to this.”

Jimmy laughed and picked up a card. “Alright, first question! Who is your celebrity crush?”

The audience immediately erupted into “Oooohs” while you covered your face with your hands, shaking your head.

“Jimmy, come on,” you groaned. “That’s not fair!”

“Oh, it’s very fair,” he said, smirking. “You can either answer… or you can take a nice, big spoonful of the hot sauce.”

You turned toward the crowd for help, but they were fully invested in the drama, chanting, “Answer! Answer! Answer!”

You exhaled, weighing your options. If you answered, it would be everywhere—trending on Twitter, reposted on Instagram, probably even dissected in football forums. But if you didn’t answer, you’d have to eat the hot sauce from hell.

Sighing dramatically, you decided to just go for it. “Okay, fine. My celebrity crush is…” You paused, milking the suspense before finally saying it.

“…Kenan Yıldız.”

The crowd exploded.

Jimmy threw his arms in the air like he had just won a championship. “YES! Juventus’ golden boy! I knew it!”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Oh, come on,” Jimmy teased. “Young, talented, ridiculously good-looking… I mean, I get it.”

You shot him a look. “You’re making this worse.”

Jimmy ignored you and turned straight to the camera. “Kenan, if you’re watching this—bro, do something!”

The audience screamed in laughter, and you knew in that moment… this was going viral.

Thousands of miles away, in Turin, Italy, Kenan Yıldız had just finished morning training when he walked into the Juventus locker room. He grabbed his phone to check his messages—until suddenly, he noticed something strange.

His notifications were insane.

Instagram DMs. Mentions on Twitter. TikTok edits of your interview already spreading like wildfire. His teammates’ group chat was blowing up with messages.

Manuel Locatelli: KENAN. WAKE UP. CHECK TWITTER RIGHT NOW.

Federico Chiesa: Bro, why is a Hollywood actress calling you her crush on live TV???

Moise Kean: Damn, Kenan, you got Y/N crushing on you?

Kenan frowned, confused. “What the hell are they talking about?” he muttered to himself.

Then, Nicolo Fagioli—one of his closest friends—came running up to him, phone in hand.

“Kenan, look at this.”

Kenan took the phone, and there it was—your clip from The Tonight Show, already trending.

He watched as you laughed nervously, as Jimmy Fallon teased you, as you literally said his name on international television.

His jaw dropped.

“No way,” he muttered.

Fagioli grinned. “Dude. She has a crush on you. Like, the whole world knows now.”

Kenan stared at the screen, watching the way you blushed when you said his name.

She likes me?

A slow smirk spread across his lips as he replayed the video. His teammates gathered around, hyping him up.

“Kenan’s Hollywood now,” Chiesa joked. “You gonna DM her or what?”

Kenan leaned back against his locker, pretending to be nonchalant. “I don’t know… Should I make her wait?”

Moise Kean laughed. “Bro, if you don’t message her, I will.”

That was all it took. Kenan grabbed his phone, opened Instagram, and went straight to your DMs.

Your DM from Kenan

Later that night, you were lying in bed, scrolling through your phone. The internet had lost its mind over your interview. Fans were making memes, football fans were freaking out, and Juventus supporters were already shipping you and Kenan.

You sighed, shaking your head. What have I done?

Then, a notification popped up.

Kenan Yıldız has sent you a message.

Your breath caught.

Heart racing, you opened it.

Kenan: So… I’m your celebrity crush, huh?

You covered your face with your hands. Kill me now.

After a moment, you typed back:

You saw that, huh?

Kenan: Hard to miss when the whole internet is talking about it.

You hesitated, then replied:

Well, I guess I could’ve just eaten the hot sauce.

Kenan: I’m glad you didn’t. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have an excuse to message you.

Your stomach flipped.

Before you could overthink it, you typed:

So what are you gonna do about it? ;)

There was a pause, then—

Kenan: How about dinner? My treat.

Your eyes widened.

You stared at the message, heartbeat pounding. Was this really happening?

You finally typed back:

Only if you promise not to bring up the interview.

Kenan: No promises.

And just like that, your celebrity crush was no longer just a crush.It was the beginning of something real.

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Mafia AU, Stray Kids one shot

𝑾𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒖𝒍?

Synopsis: When his enemies strike during a family visit, the truth shatters their world; Chris is a mafia Capo. Forced to leave him for your safety, you tried to avoid him, but Chris convinces you to stay. You built a happy life together, until Christmas brings a devastating loss. Leaving Chris to exact the only gift he can give in return.

Warnings: Reader's death (the idea was voted yes in this poll). Mention of blood, guns, violence, explosions, tears(LOTS of it), angst. OC!enemy. Dad Chris. Reader is a doctor and is called 'Dove'. Might have overused some words. Minors do not interact!!!

Note: This is my first writing outside soft, contemporary romance. It's probably not my best work, but I wanted to write it while the motivation was lingering. The story is HEAVILY inspired from a south Indian movie, it's basically in that universe but switched to Mafia.

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 7.6k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶����!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Shoot! Bang!

The gunshot vibrated through the air, the echoes ricocheting off the cold, concrete walls. For a moment, time stood still, then the heavy thud of a lifeless body hitting the floor shattered the silence. 

Blood spilled out in thick, crimson waves, pooling beneath the corpse, the metallic scent tainting the air. No one dares to step in his territory. 

Chris stood over it, his chest rising and falling with steady control, the barrel of his gun still smoking, though his eyes burned with something dark and cruel.

Around him, the others shifted in the dimly lit room. Jisung exhaled, while I.N knelt to check the pulse—unnecessary, but instinctive. "It's done," he muttered, wiping his hand on his jeans, the stain spreading like ink.

Hyunjin leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair, his expression unreadable. “They’re getting too close.” His voice was low, laced with tension.

Chris didn’t respond. His grip tightened around the gun, the weight of it familiar, grounding. He had made his decision long ago. This life came with taking blood and brutality. 

There was no other way.

Then Chris’s phone tinged, a sharp contrast to the suffocating silence.

He pulled it out, and the moment his eyes landed on the screen, his heart faltered when he saw your name. 

Dove: Can we meet? There's something I need to tell you. Cafe at 5?

For a second, he forgot where he was—forgot the blood, the bodies, the weight of the life he led. His thumb hovered over the screen, the tension in his chest was unfamiliar, but not uncomfortable.

“Who is it?” Changbin asked, arching a brow and walking towards Chris.

He hesitated before slipping the phone back into his pocket. "No one.” He shrugged nonchalantly, straightening his leather jacket. “No trace of him should be found,” Chris pointed the gun at the corpse, “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Changbin knew better than to push Chris with more questions, he nodded and walked toward the body. Chris turned around, walking into a changing room and changed to an entire different outfit that hid his true identity perfectly. 

After a while Chris reached the location you had texted him, you waited outside, nervousness crawling across your skin. He was always punctual, but today he was just a teensie bit, five minutes late. 

You spotted him walking towards you, removing his sunglasses, the hoop hearings glinting under the shining sun, a dimple grin that made your heart flutter.

“You’re late,” you huffed, crossing your arms, a pout forming on your face. “Five whole minutes, Chris. I was starting to think you stood me up.”

Chris sighed dramatically, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips as he leaned down, pressing his lips on yours. “Sorry, love,” he murmured against you. “Traffic was hell.”

You rolled her eyes, but the ghost of a smile betrayed your irritation. “You always say that. But anyways, I'm nervous. Come fast.” You hand wrapped around his wrist as you pushed the door open and pulled him inside.

“What happened?” Chris asked, his brows furrowing as you walked inside the huge restaurant cafe. 

“You're going to meet my father.” You said nervously as you kept walking. Chris stood on his feed, as if he was chained, making you stop. 

“Baby you could have told me earlier, I would have prepared something.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Is this an exam? For you to prepare?” You bit your lip, nerves building in your stomach. 

“At least give me a clue about him, Dove.” His fingers lingered across your cheek. 

“The word he despises the most in the English language…” 

You started walking again. “Is it sorry?” He asked jokingly. 

You eyed him head to toe. “Police.” 

Chris’s heart skipped a beat at your words, remembering that you never knew about what he truly does, but he quickly masked his reaction with a small chuckle, slipping his hand into yours as you led him deeper into the bustling restaurant café. 

“I see,” he said smoothly, offering you a reassuring smile despite the unease simmering beneath the surface. “So, no cop jokes, then?”

You shot him a nervous glare, your fingers squeezing him. “Chris, I’m serious. He’s… intimidating. Just be yourself, okay? My dad’s really protective.”

You finally reached the table where your family sat, and Chris instantly felt the scrutiny in your father’s gaze. He was a tall man with a sharp jawline, streaks of silver in his dark hair, and eyes that seemed to pierce right through him. 

Your mother, on the other hand, was warm and welcoming, a kind smile tugging at her lips as she observed Chris. And then there was your younger sister, who looked at him with curiosity.

“Mom, Dad… this is Chris,” you introduced, gesturing toward him with a small, hopeful smile.

Chris stepped forward, extending his hand confidently. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” he said, maintaining steady eye contact with your father.

Your father didn’t immediately take his hand. Instead, he studied Chris with a hard gaze before finally shaking it, his grip firm and unyielding and gestured to him to take a seat. 

You sat next to Chris, taking a deep breath, waiting for one of them to start a conversation. Right when Chris cleared his throat to say something, your father interrupted.

“I have no intention of seeing my daughter with you.” He cut straight to the chase, his tone sharp leaving your heart to sink like a stone thrown in an ocean.

“Dad—” you spoke but his icy gaze pinned you down and Chris held your hand tightly beneath the table. 

He felt you tremble slightly in his grasp but he gave it a reassuring squeeze, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. He could sense the tension in the air thickening, pressing down on both of you like an invisible weight. 

His jaw clenched, but he kept his expression calm, composed—even though your father’s words hit him like a punch to the gut.

“I understand your concern, sir,” Chris said, his voice steady but gentle, careful to show respect without backing down. “I know how much she means to you.”

Your father’s eyes narrowed, a storm brewing in their depths. “You think you do.” His words were cold, slicing through the air like a blade. “She’s my daughter. My responsibility. And I won’t hand her over to just anyone, especially someone who arrives five minutes late.”

You stiffened beside Chris, your cheeks burning with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. “Dad, please…” you pleaded softly, but Chris gently squeezed your hand again, signaling that he had this under control.

“I apologize for being late,” he said sincerely, looking your father in the eye. “It wasn’t intentional. But with all due respect, sir, my commitment to her goes beyond being on time for dinner. Now it’s my responsibility to protect her, to cherish her.” 

His voice was firm, yet there was an underlying warmth to it that made your heart ache in the best way.

Your father leaned back in his chair, studying Chris with an expression that held skepticism, like a man weighing the worth of the person before him. 

“You say you’re in law enforcement,” he said finally. “That’s a dangerous job. You’re putting yourself in harm’s way every day. What happens when that danger follows you home?”

Chris met his gaze head-on, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. If only your father knew just how deep that danger already ran. That he was beyond just a loyal cop. That his job was with violence, guns and blood. 

But instead, he answered with practiced ease. “Sir, danger exists everywhere. My job is to keep it as far away from her as possible. I would never put her in harm’s way.”

Your mother, sensing the rising tension, placed a gentle hand on your father’s arm. “Let the boy speak, dear,” she said softly, offering Chris a kind smile. “He’s here because he cares about our daughter.”

Your father sighed, rubbing his temples. “Care isn’t enough,” he muttered, his voice gruff. “What happens when things get hard? When work comes before family?” He leaned forward, his sharp gaze piercing. “Because I’ve seen men who thought they could handle it, and they ended up failing their families.”

Chris nodded, his grip on your hand firm but comforting. “I won’t fail her, sir,” he said without hesitation. “Your daughter means the world to me. I know my job isn’t easy, but I assure you, her happiness, her safety, our life together will always come first. I’m not here to make empty promises. I’m here to prove to you that I’m worthy of her.”

You glanced at Chris, your heart swelling with emotion. The conviction in his words, the way he spoke with such quiet confidence, made you fall for him all over again.

Your father’s gaze softened. Just a fraction. He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. “Big words,” he muttered. “We’ll see if you can back them up.”

Your little sister leaned forward with curious eyes. “So, you’re really a cop? Like… badge and everything?”

Chris chuckled, leaning in conspiratorially. “Top secret, but yeah. Badge and everything.”

You laughed, nudging your sister. “Leave him alone, will you?”

As the evening went on, Chris found himself slipping into the conversation effortlessly. He complimented your mother’s cooking, shared amusing stories that he carefully crafted to fit his “police officer” persona, and even managed to get a small chuckle out of your father. Slowly but surely, he was winning them over.

But just as those smiles were about to last a bit longer, Chris caught a reflection of a masked man walking behind him from the mirror hanging from the wall in front of him. 

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his other hand flying to the gun resting on the waistband of his pants and before you could register what was happening, he screamed.

“ON THE FLOOR!”

The restaurant, once filled with warm chatter and clinking silverware, was now a battleground of panic and confusion. The masked men charged forward, their heavy boots pounding against the tiled floor.

“Get the Capo!” one of them roared, his voice slicing through the chaos like a blade.

Capo? The word echoed in your head. Isn't that the term used in the Mafia?

Your father stood frozen, eyes wide in shock as Chris drew his gun with precision and fired. The sharp crack of the shot echoed through the room, sending one of the masked assailants crumpling to the ground. 

A second later, Chris was moving. Swift, calculated. He overturned a table, using it as temporary cover while bullets whizzed past, shattering glass and porcelain.

Screams filled the air, people scrambling for the exits, but Chris stayed rooted to the spot, shielding you with his own body. “Behind that door!” he shouted, motioning toward the back exit.

You hesitated, your eyes locked onto him, filled with fear and confusion. “Chris—”

“GO!” His voice was sharp, but his eyes softened for a fleeting second.

Your father finally snapped out of his daze, grabbing your arm and pulling you along with him. Your mother and sister stumbled behind, clinging to each other. Chris fired another shot, buying time as he watched you disappear behind the door. Relief surged through him, but it was short-lived.

More men stormed in, their weapons raised. Chris’s muscles tensed as he ducked behind a column, swiftly reloading. “So it’s you lot?” he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing. “You picked the wrong fucking night.”

He lunged forward, taking down another man with a precise shot to the leg before slamming his elbow into another’s jaw. The fight was brutal, relentless. Fury and sweat soaked the air. Chris was outnumbered, but years of experience and instinct guided him. 

Fists flew, gunfire rang out, and blood stained his knuckles, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

You watched Chris through the glass window, not missing a single move and breaking the arms of anyone who came in his way. The banging sounds of the guns made you shake, cover your ears and close your eyes. 

Finally, the last man fell, groaning in pain on the floor. Chris wiped the back of his hand across his brow, chest heaving. His ears still rang from the gunshots, but the only thing he could focus on now was you. He turned sharply, heading towards the door you had escaped through.

But his heart sank when he saw it.

Through the shattered window, he spotted your father pulling you away, your eyes wide, pleading, your lips forming silent protests. “Dad, please! Christopher—”

But your father’s grip was firm, his face set in grim determination. “You’re done with him!” he shouted, dragging you away.

Chris’s chest tightened. He took a step forward, but the weight of the moment crushed him. Your father’s eyes met his. Full of fear, anger, and something he couldn’t quite place.

And then, just like that, you were gone.

The weight of what just happened settled over him like a suffocating fog. His cover was blown, and worse. He had dragged you into his world of blood and violence.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, sliding his gun back into the waistband of his pants.

But one thing was clear. He wasn’t letting you go that easily.

~

It’s been 3 weeks. Chris’s calls and texts were unanswered. He went to the hospital you were working at, but they refused to give your details. He wasn’t one to beg, but for you, he had swallowed his pride more times than he cared to count.

Tonight, he was done waiting.

Chris leaned against his black car parked discreetly across the street, watching the entrance of the hospital with sharp, dark eyes. The hood of his jacket was drawn low, shielding his face from prying eyes, but there was no mistaking the tension in his stance. His fingers twitched at his side, itching for something. 

For you.

And then, finally, you appeared.

Chris straightened the moment he saw you step out of the hospital doors, the soft glow of the entrance lights framing you in a way that made his chest ache. You looked exhausted, the white coat hanging on your arms, your hair hastily pulled back. The familiar warmth he once found in your eyes was absent, replaced by something colder and distant.

He pulled his phone out and dialed your number, your phone rang in your hands but when you saw the name on the screen, you pressed the volume button, silencing his call. 

Anger and rejection fueled his chest, you hadn’t noticed him yet, too busy rummaging through your bag as you made your way towards the street. Then unintentionally your eyes landed on a familiar pair of dark eyes.

Chris took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he pushed off the car and stepped into your path. “Dove.”

You looked at him and then turned away, as if you didn't hear him. Frustration took over him, you halted frozen when he called you by your name. 

You turned back around, your gaze on the ground, heart in your throat. You couldn't look at him the same anymore. How could you? He wasn't who he told you he was.

His identity was revealed that evening, surrounded by chaos and danger. Your father was right.

But you weren't mad at him for hiding that he's a Capo. If anything you were scared. Scared of what dangers and threats that would follow him.

Chris walked towards you until his figure enveloped you, the strong scent of mint and leather engulfing your senses.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice was tired, but sharp.

His jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours desperately. “You haven’t been answering my calls.”

You hugged your bag closer to your chest, stepping back instinctively. “I thought that was pretty clear.”

Chris exhaled sharply, taking a cautious step forward. “You can’t just shut me out, Dove. Not like this.” His voice softened.

“It doesn't matter Chris, I don't think this isn't going to work out.” 

“What honey?”

“OUR LIFE!” Your voice cracked, tears threatening to spill. Chris's breath was clogged in his throat, unable to see the fear and pain etched across your face.

Your chest rose and fell with the weight of emotions you had tried so hard to suppress.

Chris stared at you, his jaw tightening, his eyes dark with unspoken emotions. "Dove..." he reached out, but you took a step back, shaking your head.

"I love you," you choked, your fingers clutching the strap of your bag so tightly that your knuckles turned white. "But love isn't enough when I'm scared every second of what might happen to you! When— when those men came at you, almost shot you, I—"

His hands gripped your shoulders, making you calm down, his index on his lips asking you not to shout.

Your gaze locked with his, pleading. "I can't afford to lose you, Chris. And if you love me too... you'll find a way out of this.”

Chris swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he took a hesitant step toward you. "Alright, then tell me what you want me to do." His voice was soft but laced with desperation, his fingers brushing away the cold tears streaming down your face. 

"You give me a solution for this.”

You looked at him, hope flickering in your eyes despite the pain. "Leave it all, Chris."

He blinked at you.

"Whatever you're doing, whatever mess you're tangled in, just leave it behind. We can go somewhere far away, where no one can find us. We’ll get married, start over... just you and me." 

Your voice broke, tears slipping down your cheeks. "Please... if you can’t do that, then…”

Your voice wavered as you took a deep breath. "If you can't, then hail me a taxi. And we'll end this right here, right now.”

He watched you, his heart pounding violently against his ribcage. He wanted to say no. He wanted to promise you a life far from the blood, the danger, the lies. But deep down, he knew, there was no walking away from this world.

Silence fell between you like a heavy storm cloud, suffocating, pressing in from all sides. Chris's lips parted, his hands twitching at his sides. The war in his eyes was painfully clear, and for a fleeting moment, you thought he might choose you.

But then, without a word, Chris lifted his hand and flagged down a passing taxi.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the yellow cab slowed to a stop in front of you. The cold night air felt heavier, suffocating. You blinked up at him, disbelief washing over your features.

His jaw clenched, his eyes filled with unspoken regret, sorrow, love. He reached for the door handle and opened it for you, your heart shattered into shards. 

Right as you were about to get in, he said, “Won't you give me one last goodbye hug?” 

His sense of humour at this situation made you rage, your bloodshot eyes stung as you got inside the taxi without sparing another glance at him and closing the door shut. 

“Okay, I'm sorry.” He raised his hands up in surrender and turned to his back, not wishing to watch the cab pull away. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose closing his eyes, swallowing the hard lump in his throat when he heard the breaks behind him, that made him chuckle.

You got out of the car, running to him, slapping your coat against his body.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?! Huh?” Another hit and Chris laughed in response. “Are you trying to chase me away?!”

Chris let out a chuckle, catching your wrist mid-air before you could land another hit.

“Silly girl, I knew you would come back,” his fake laugh was uncontrollable, “But I didn't think you'd come back this fast.” 

You slapped your hand against his arm, your chin wobbling. 

His fingers curled gently around your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your skin. "Dove," he murmured, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken emotions. "You know how much I love you.”

"And I love what I'm doing now as Capo as well," he admitted, his voice soft but unwavering. "But I will never give up or lose you for it. Okay?"

You stared at him, your chest rising and falling in time with his, then you wrapped your hands around his body, burying your face against his heart.

His arms wrapped you tightly, his heartbeat thundered beneath your ear, steady and strong, but the warmth of his embrace did little to soothe the fear still clinging to your heart.

You looked up at him, your breath warm against his skin. “You will never leave me right?” You asked, your voice shaking.

Chris’s fingers sank in your hair, pressing your face flush against him. 

“I promise… I will always be with you sweetheart.” 

The warmth of his body, the way his arms caged you in so securely, made you want to believe in his words, made you want to trust that he could protect you from the cruel world that kept trying to tear you apart.

You sighed, the tension in your body slowly melting under his touch. "Okay," you whispered, the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at your lips. "But if you ever get a bullet wound, I swear I’ll kill you myself."

Chris laughed softly, the sound vibrating against your cheek. "Noted," he said, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead and taking your lips in his, erasing away your fears and doubts as the world blurred around you. 

~ 

1 year later. On the night of Christmas Eve.

One whole year passed by in peace. You and Chris built a beautiful life together, you got married a few weeks later, Chris managed to convince your father who in the end only wished for his daughter's happiness.

You moved into his mansion, a strangely comforting place that slowly began to feel like home. It was far from the chaos you once feared, tucked away in a quiet part of the city where you could pretend, for just a little while, that Chris wasn’t who he really was.

Each morning, you woke up wrapped in his arms, sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains, casting golden hues over his face. He looked so peaceful when he slept, his guard down, his breathing slow and steady.

He came home every night, exhausted but safe, his arms always reaching for you, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in his life. And you were. Every night he made love to you, sometimes fast, rough and hard, other times long, sweet and slow. 

But there were moments when the illusion cracked. When you caught glimpses of the weight he carried in his quiet stares out the window, or when he’d disappear into his office for hours, his voice low and serious on phone calls you pretended not to hear. 

You never pushed. Because deep down, you knew the truth. The world he came from, the one he tried so hard to keep you away from, could never truly disappear.

When you surprised him with a small box that contained a pregnancy test, he was overjoyed. You brought light into his dark world, and from that moment on, Chris changed in subtle ways. 

He became softer, more attentive, and even more careful. He pulled away from some of his more dangerous work, delegating tasks to his most trusted men, ensuring that his time at home with you was sacred.

Tonight, on Christmas Eve as you were stacking away the presents for your family to open tomorrow morning, Chris came downstairs, exhausted but a smile spread across his face after putting your baby to sleep. 

He spotted you in the living room, fixing the lights on the huge Christmas tree, he walked towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Sweetheart…you seem very happy,” he murmured between the kisses he kept brushing on your neck.

You turned to him, his gaze piercing with yours, you could count each lash that was brimming his whiskey eyes. 

“I feel complete.” you said lowly. 

“Hmm?” He tilted his head to the side. “Give me details Dove.” 

“I have a loving husband. A beautiful home. An angel as a daughter. What else would I need?” You smiled. 

“So I feel complete.” You pecked his nose sweetly and he playfully scratched it.

Chris’s hands tightened on your waist when he kissed you, murmuring against your lips, “I'm over here about to tell you that our angel might want a baby brother to play with…”

Pink crept your cheeks but you turned away nudging him with your elbow. “Honey, not interested. Our angel is more than enough for me.”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Our angel is more than enough.”

“But I wanna know something sweetheart,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I know that you still dislike what I do…” you chuckled and he continued.

“That you accepted this life for me and you made a lot of sacrifices for me…” The lights on the Christmas tree sparkled in his eyes as he spoke and you watched him carefully.

“What is your dream, Dove?” 

Your breath hitched in your throat, caught off guard by the tenderness in his voice. You swallowed hard, your eyes flickering to the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree before returning to his gaze.

“My dream?” you echoed softly, a wistful smile tugging at your lips. “You can't fulfil it.” You joked, innocently tapping his face. 

His brows furrowed slightly, the faintest hint of sadness crossing his face but not noticeable enough. “At least tell me,” he said, encouraging you to speak about the life you always dreamt of. 

You leaned into him, your fingers tracing over his black t-shirt. 

“Mm, in a long far away land, in a small village, we're living in a cozy cottage. I wanna hear the chirping of the birds every morning, with a beautiful climate that's sunny but also rainy.” 

Chris watched you, patiently listening. 

“Hubby should have a boring job that requires you to go late and arrive early.” He couldn't help but chuckle softly.

“And a small cat!” You jumped, “and his name should be… Simba,” you couldn't stop smiling as you kept speaking.

Chris’s lips curled into a soft smile, his eyes never leaving your face as you painted your dream with such innocent delight. He could see the longing in your eyes, the sparkle of hope despite the life you were already living with him.

“And what about our little angel?” he asked, his voice low and gentle, his fingers tracing slow patterns on your back.

You grinned, your eyes lighting up. “She’ll grow up surrounded by fields of flowers, climbing trees, and chasing butterflies.” Your voice grew softer, more wistful. “She won’t have to know about fear, or danger, or the shadows that lurk in the corners of this world.”

You sighed, the smile never leaving your face. “I want a simple life, just the three of us in a world with no threats, no danger… no worries.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “You had it all planned out, didn't you?”

You shrugged playfully. “A girl can dream.”

Chris held you closer, his chin resting atop your head. His voice was thick with emotion when he whispered, “I wish I could give you that, Dove.”

You pulled back to look into his eyes, your heart twisting at the conflict in them. “I know, Chris,” you said gently. 

“But tell me this,” you pecked his chin. 

“How do you feel about me as your wife?” 

His dimple deepened when your arms rested on his shoulder, his hands cradling your sweet face. 

“I feel…that you are…”

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the house, followed by a deafening silence that sent chills down his spine.

You gasped, a sharp intake of breath, your body slipping from his hands onto the floor before he could react. His heart seized, eyes widening in horror as a pool of blood gathered from beneath you. 

"Baby?" His voice was a strangled whisper, barely audible over the ringing in his ears. He pressed his trembling hands over the wound, desperate to stop the bleeding, but the warm, sticky crimson seeped between his fingers.

Before he could process the nightmare unfolding in his arms, another gunshot cracked through the air. Instinct took over. Chris whipped around, shielding your limp form with his body as his eyes locked onto the figure stepping through the broken glass.

A figure dressed in black, his face partially obscured by the shadows, strode inside with chilling composure. Chris recognized him immediately—Damian Voss, the younger brother of the man Chris had killed a year ago.

“You thought you could just walk away, Capo?” Damian sneered, lowering his gun slightly, his eyes dark with vengeance. "Did you think I’d let you live a fairy tale while my brother rots in the ground?"

Chris's chest heaved with rage, his arms trembling as he carefully laid you down on the floor. Your face was pale, too pale, and your shallow breaths tore at his heart. He had to end this, fast.

He surged to his feet, a deadly glare replacing his fear. “You son of a—”

But before he could do anything, a sharp brutal force of an iron rod slammed the side of Chris’s head. A blinding pain exploded in his skull as he staggered back, his vision blurring.

He hit the floor hard, the taste of blood filling his mouth. The room spun, distorted voices echoing in his ears.

Damian crouched beside him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, yanking him up so their faces were inches apart. "You took my brother from me, so I'm taking everything from you," he hissed.

Blood trickled down from the corner of Chris's mouth as Damian dragged his body and layed him on his back against the couch. 

His foot landed on Chris’s chest, the force of it made him gasp your name, you could hear the tortures he was going through as a tear leaked from the corner of your eye but you were unable to move at all. 

“You know killing you right away won't make me satisfied Chris…you should die slow. So…fucking…slow…” Damian sneered as he fired the gun upwards, calling out his soldiers. 

“Plant that bomb. The explosion should erase every last evidence of this fucker’s existence.” Damian ordered his men and walked out of the door. 

As the soldiers fixed the countdown of your lives and filed out of the house, their heavy footsteps fading into the night, the silence that followed was deafening. 

Until a ragged gasp tore through the air.

Pain shot through your body like a thousand knives piercing your skin. You took deep breaths and with trembling arms, you made yourself get up, holding your wound and dragging your weak body across the cold floor, pain flaring with every inch you gained.

Metallic red liquid smeared all over your dress as you crawled, inch by inch, toward Chris who was drenched in blood, his back pressed against the couch.

“Chris,” you shook his shoulder, your voice was barely audible, tears streaking your face as you reached him.

Chris's head lolled to the side, his face pale, his half-lidded eyes blinked sluggishly, trying to focus on you. "D-Dove..." he coughed, his voice rasping with pain and despair.

The blinking red light of the bomb timer flashed in the corner of your vision, a cruel reminder of how little time you had left.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you pushed yourself up, biting down a scream as pain shot through you. Gritting your teeth, you crawled upstairs, gripping the railing to keep yourself steady.

Reaching the nursery, you flung the door open with trembling hands, your eyes locking onto your daughter’s sleeping form in her crib. Relief flooded through you, but it was quickly overshadowed by fear.

You gathered her into your arms, biting back the renewed scream that threatened to escape your throat as fresh pain shot through your side. Her tiny weight pressed against you, grounding you, forcing you to keep moving.

Descending the stairs with careful, painful steps, you fell and knelt beside Chris, tears streaking your face as you cradled your daughter close and shook him, trying to get him up.

“Christopher!” You hand cupped his chin, jolting him awake. 

“Chris, please get out of here—,” you choked fisting his shirt. “please get out…take the baby and go…and leave me back…” your hand fell from his shoulder, breaths began growing slow and shallow, "...I won't survive..." he gripped your arm, his head falling back. 

“...there's no point.” 

The taste of pennies coated his tongue as he swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he reached to hold your daughter, before you hugged her close to your chest.

“Even…after this,” your voice broke, “you wish to be Capo…” You said through gritted teeth. “leave her with me.”

Your voice wavered, but your resolve was firm, fisting his shirt tighter. “But if you love me… if you ever loved me, vow to me—right here, right now, you will be a good father to her. That you will protect her, raise her away from this hell.”

Chris felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He shook hard as his head fell back, his cries bouncing against you. His world was crumbling right in front of him, slipping through his fingers, and he was powerless to stop it. 

His jaw clenched, tears pooling in his eyes as he swallowed hard. “I swear,” he whispered, his voice thick and rough. “I swear, I’ll keep her safe. I promise…”

A faint, tearful smile touched your lips as you gazed at him, your eyes clouding with exhaustion. “Thank you…” you breathed, your head resting against his chest, handing the swaddled baby over to him.

His eyes, heavy with pain and exhaustion, searched yours desperately, his breath ragged as he clutched at your weakening form. Chris pulled you closer, his body trembling with sobs he could no longer hold back. 

“Dove, please stay with me,” he begged, pressing desperate kisses to your temple, your forehead, anywhere he could reach. “Just… just hold on a little longer, baby. Please.”

Your breath hitched, your lips parting slightly. “Hubby…”

“How do you feel about me as your wife…?” you asked him one last time.

“You are the reason for breathing my love.” He cried, burying your face in his neck, his voice so painfully loud, it could shred diamonds.

“You're my peace, my home, my whole life. I didn’t deserve you, but you loved me anyway. You saw the man I tried to be, not the monster I was.”

Tears streamed down your face as his words wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing the ache in your heart. You struggled to keep your eyes open, to stay just a little longer in the warmth of his embrace.

Your eyelids fluttered, and with the last shreds of your fading consciousness, you whispered, "I love you, Chris…” and your eyes closed, your last breath fanning over his blood stained skin.

The moment your breath stilled, a ragged scream tore from his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He held you tighter, rocking your lifeless body in his arms, his sobs raw and unrestrained.

And then, a tiny cry pierced through.

His daughter.

Chris blinked through his tears, his chest heaving. He looked down at the fragile, innocent life cradled in his arms, her tiny hands clutching weakly at your dress.

He pressed his lips to your temple, his body trembling violently. “I love you,” he whispered, voice broken beyond repair. “Forever.” 

He gently laid you down on the marble floor and staggered towards the door, his legs barely holding him up. 

The blinking red light of the bomb ticked down, a cruel reminder of the life he was leaving behind.

You had given him a new life and took his death along with you.

~

2 years later.

Capo Christopher Bang’s death was the biggest talk of the underworld. The news spread like wildfire, whispered in hushed voices across darkened alleyways and smoke-filled clubs. Some called it a tragedy, others a long-overdue fall from power. But no one knew the truth.

In a quiet, picturesque village far from the city's chaos, Chris was living the dream you once painted for him. He resigned as Capo, living in a quaint cottage surrounded by endless greenery, birds chirping in the mornings, and a peaceful routine that revolved around his daughter, the last piece of you he had left. 

She believed her father had a simple job, working as a librarian and returning home just in time to tuck her into bed, reading fairy tales under the soft glow of the lamp. She knew nothing of the weight he carried in his heart, the life he left behind, or the silent war brewing in his eyes.

Chris’s men were still in the underworld but were loyal to him, played along, treating this quiet life as their own, shielding your daughter from the darkness that still lurked beyond their haven.

But tonight, on Christmas Eve two years later, the past came knocking once again.

Chris was laying next to his daughter who was drifting into a deep sleep, he bent down, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, inhaling the sweet scent of baby lotion and warmth.

“Daddy?” her sleepy voice murmured.

“Shh, angel,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “Go back to sleep or else Santa won't come home.”

She blinked up at him drowsily, a soft smile playing on her lips, her small hands touching his face. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

His chest tightened. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

Once your daughter was in her slumber, Chris straightened, his eyes hardening as he turned to the two tall figures guarding the doorway. 

“She’s your responsibility tonight.” 

Felix gave a firm nod. “You don't need to worry.”

Seungmin placed a reassuring hand on Chris’s shoulder. “She’s safe with us. Go finish this.”

Chris exhaled deeply and walked to the front door, where Minho and Hyunjin were waiting. Both were dressed in black, three bikes parked in front, their eyes sharp and filled with the same rage that had festered in him for two long years.

“Are we doing this tonight?” Hyunjin asked, flexing his fingers and cracking his knuckles as he slipped on the gloves. 

Chris’s jaw tightened, his voice cold and unwavering. “That bastard took my wife from me and I'm not stopping until I feel his blood in my hands.”

Minho smirked, the glint of a blade visible beneath his coat. “Let’s make it count.”

As they stepped out into the bitter night, three beast engines roaring to life, Chris took one last glance at the small, warm house behind him. It was a life he swore to protect, a life you had dreamed for him.

But tonight, he was stepping back into the shadows—one. last. time.

For revenge.

Silence fogged the air when the club's lights went off, leaving the room in dread darkness. Damian reached for his gun on his waistband but found his pocket empty. 

He turned around fast, cracking his neck as he felt something crawl up skin and before he could breath, a ragged cloth closed around his head, blocking his airway.

Outside the bar Hyunjin shot and fought Damian's guards until he was standing on a pile of men with broken limbs and cracked necks.

Damian kept fighting until he was pushed against a chair, Minho standing behind him as he removed the cloth off his head, revealing a deadly, wrath fueled Chris standing before him. 

“You fucker…you're still alive.” He hissed and shot forward, aiming his fist at Chris who whipped a thick, iron bar resting on his shoulder, slamming the side of Damian's head in a brutal force. 

Blood splattered out of his mouth, a harsh, loud, strangled scream ripped from Damian’s throat echoing off the walls, as he fell on the ground, feeling his brain vibrate. 

Chris landed a kick with the same force Damian kicked him in the chest two years ago, his hand gripped the bar tightly before swinging it back again at his head, shoving another slam on the other side his face, cracking his skull, blood gushing out Damian's nose. 

The metallic smell soaked the air, each breath he took sharp and bitter. Relentless torture was aimed at the man who took Chris's life away from him, until there was nothing left for him to break. 

Chris stood still, the bar in his hand trembling slightly from the force of his previous blows, dripping with blood, his knuckles were raw, bruised from the reckless pounding, but it was the anger that still coursed through him that made him feel alive. 

“Christopher…”  he croaked, his eyes bloodshot and wide with fear.

Hyunjin and Minho tied Damian on the chair, injecting injecting pure adrenaline into his failing body. He trembled violently, the sudden rush of chemicals forcing him to consciousness despite the overwhelming pain consuming him.

He was unrecognisable because of the destruction Chris had made on his face. 

"You don’t deserve a quick death." Chris whispered, his voice eerily calm. And that was all he said.

Hyunjin tied a time bomb around Damian’s torso, the almost unconscious man looked up at Chris, his eyes begging for mercy. 

His gaze searched Chris’s face, as if trying to find a sliver of mercy in his hard, unforgiving eyes. But there was nothing there.

Hyunjin stepped backward after fixing the time bomb, twisting it to its final setting. “Time’s up,” he said, his tone emotionless.

Damian's desperate, pleading eyes met Chris's one last time. “Please… don’t do this,” he croaked, his voice barely audible.

But before he could finish, the bomb clicked into place, its red LED countdown flashing ominously.

Chris straightened up, taking one last long look at the man who had ruined his life. He could feel the weight of his actions settle on his shoulders, the finality of what he was about to do.

This was it. The end of the road.

With one last deep breath, Chris turned away, his hands stained red, his heart pounding in his chest.

Hyunjin, Minho, and he walked out of the room without a single word, the sound of Damian’s desperate, agonizing cries of pain fading into the silence behind them.

The building was swallowed by the night, a hollow shell of destruction as the countdown echoed through the walls. 

Once the time reached zero, the loud explosion made the birds resting in the nearby trees fly away flapping their wings in terror.

Chris pulled his phone out, the wallpaper of you and him on your first date appearing on his screen.

"finché non ti rivedrò, amore mio." He whispered to himself.

until I see you again, my love

***

The next morning, your daughter came out her bedroom, rubbing her eyes and spotted her father on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate sitting next to him.

“Daddy!” She squealed, running towards him, wrapping her small arms around his neck. Chris hugged her back tightly, pressing his lips on her hair and she nestled close to his chest.

“Where did you go last night daddy?” She asked, her eyes wide and curious, her voice innocent, unaware of the darkness her father went through.

“I didn't go anywhere baby,” Chris said, kissing her cheek that made her giggle. “I will be with you always.” 

She grinned up at him, her eyes filled with wonder, and without warning, she slipped her little hands into his, pulling him onto the floor and began opening her presents. 

Lavish toys, clothes and books her Mafia uncles spoiled her with. 

After a while, her tiny hand wrapped around Chris’s huge arm. “Daddy, can we go outside?” 

His smile deepened as he nodded. “Of course, darling.” 

Lifting her with ease, he carried her in his arms as they stepped out into the crisp morning air, the golden light spilling across their quiet little yard, a fluffy orange cat following behind them.

Your daughter's head rested against Chris's shoulder, the soft rustling of leaves the only sound accompanying their steps. 

The weight of the night’s events still hung in his chest, but he focused on the feeling of her small body in his arms, the steady rhythm of her breath, the calmness that had returned to his world since she had been born.

As they reached the center of the garden, Chris followed her eyes which was glued to a bird gliding gracefully down from the sky, landing softly on the lush green grass. 

Its wings beat gently as it settled, its pure white feathers standing out against the vibrant colors of the morning.

“What bird is that, Daddy?” she pointed at it, her gaze full of wonder.

Chris smiled, his heart swelling with love and a deep, unspoken sadness. “That’s a dove, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and tender as he spoke. 

“It’s so pwetty,” she murmured, her hand reaching out toward the bird as if she could touch its serenity. 

“Do you think it’s here for us?”

Chris’s smile faltered just a fraction, his heart heavy with memories of the past and the promise he had made to you. 

He looked at his daughter, the only living hope of his life you gifted to him. He nodded, though his voice was thick with emotion.

“I think it is,” he whispered. "I think it's here to remind us that even after all the darkness... there’s still light.”

She rested her head back on his shoulder, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she watched the dove slowly strut across the grass, the little cat's bushy tail brushing Chris's leg.

The dove took flight again, its wings stretching wide as it soared into the morning sky, leaving Chris, his daughter and Simba standing beneath it, in a world that had both healed and broken him in ways his daughter will never fully understand.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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Thank you for reading!

xx,

Ivyy

[s4svnn]

Out of bounds . JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; his love subjected you to the true extent of deception, a merciless lie wrapped in the illusion of paradise, until the truth tore it apart - he was always out of bounds.

↳ Jungkook x reader

↳ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing

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

Chapter Thirty Two

The evening had started off lighthearted and fun—jokes flying across the room, the scent of Kayla’s home-cooked meal filling the air as we laughed between bites of perfectly seasoned food. For a while, everything felt easy, like the kind of night you look back on and smile at. But now? Now I was standing in the wreckage of Kayla’s overly competitive nature, dealing with the aftermath of what could only be described as absolute chaos.

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I surveyed the scene before me.

Leah was sprawled out on the couch, one arm hanging limply over the side, her mouth slightly open as if she had passed out mid-sentence. Serena, on the other hand, was curled up on the floor near the coffee table, clutching an empty red solo cup like it was a lifeline. Cyrus, well… he was face down on the carpet, completely unmoving, as if the alcohol had quite literally knocked him unconscious.

And the culprit behind this disaster was sat cross-legged on the other couch, looking far too pleased with herself as she sipped on a bottle of water, her expression smug. “Lightweights,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head.

I shot her an exasperated look. “This is your fault.”

Kayla shrugged, unbothered. “Hey, I didn’t force them to go shot for shot with me. They chose violence.”

I groaned, sinking into the chair beside her. “You challenged them, Kay. You literally stared Leah dead in the eye and said, ‘Bet you can’t keep up with me.’”

She grinned at that. “And I was right.”

I glanced at the disaster zone that was her living room. “You could’ve just let them enjoy their drinks at a normal pace, but no—now I have three bodies to deal with.”

Kayla snorted, setting her water bottle down. “Oh please, they’ll be fine. A little hungover tomorrow, but fine.”

I sighed, shaking my head as I turned to Adam, who was sitting in the armchair across from us, completely unaffected by the chaos around him. He had a glass of whiskey in one hand, swirling the liquid absentmindedly as he scrolled through his phone with the other. Out of everyone, he was the only one who hadn’t indulged in the challenge. He hadn’t even looked remotely interested in drinking, which wasn’t surprising. He never really seemed like the type to let loose that way.

I studied him for a second, taking in the sharp lines of his face, the way his jaw tensed slightly as he read whatever was on his screen. It was strange—being around him like this, in such a casual setting, after everything.

“You’re staring.”

His voice cut through my thoughts, and I quickly looked away, feeling my face heat up. “No, I’m not.”

He raised an eyebrow, setting his phone down. “Yeah, you were.”

I huffed, crossing my arms. “You’re literally sitting in my line of sight.”

He smirked, the corner of his lips tilting up in amusement. “Right.”

I rolled my eyes but said nothing, instead reaching for my phone, only to find Kayla watching me with an all-too-knowing look on her face.

“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

Kayla hummed, taking a slow sip of her water. “Nothing.”

I didn’t believe her for a second.

Before I could press her on it, Cyrus let out a loud groan from his spot on the floor, shifting slightly as if trying to wake himself up. He failed miserably, groaning again before going still.

Kayla laughed. “Told you they’d be fine.”

I shook my head. “You’re impossible.”

Kayla stretched her arms above her head, looking down at the drunken mess she had single-handedly created. “Welp, I guess I’m on clean-up duty,” she said casually, clapping her hands together before glancing at me. “I’ll haul these guys over to the guestrooms before they start drooling all over my house.”

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. “Need any help?”

She waved me off. “Nah, I got this. You just relax.”

I didn’t argue, mostly because I knew Kayla well enough to understand that when she said she had something handled, she meant it. She crouched down and effortlessly pulled Serena up, slinging her arm over her shoulder before dragging her towards the hallway.

Cyrus and Leah were next, but I wasn’t really paying attention to Kayla anymore. Because the second she disappeared down the hall, I realized something.

Me and Adam were alone.

The air in the room shifted immediately, a noticeable change in atmosphere that sent my nerves into overdrive. The distant chatter from Kayla moving the others barely registered in my ears as the reality of the situation set in. It was just the two of us now, sitting in the dim glow of the living room, the silence between us thick enough to drown in.

I stole a quick glance at him, but he was already looking at me. His dark eyes were unreadable, intense in a way that made my stomach flip. He hadn’t moved from his spot in the armchair, but the way he sat—legs spread slightly, one arm resting against the armrest while the other still held his glass of whiskey—made him look far too composed, far too unaffected by the weight of the silence hanging between us.

I, on the other hand, felt like I was about to combust. I cleared my throat, breaking eye contact as I fidgeted with the hem of my top. “So… you’re not much of a drinker, huh?”

Adam took a slow sip of his whiskey before setting the glass down on the table beside him. “Not really.”

I nodded, grasping onto the small conversation thread like a lifeline. “Why not?”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze still on me. “Never saw the appeal of getting wasted and embarrassing myself.”

I huffed a small laugh. “Fair enough. But you have to admit, watching them embarrass themselves was pretty entertaining.”

A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. “I’ll give you that.”

Silence settled over us again, heavier this time.

I shifted in my seat, suddenly hyper-aware of every single movement I made. The air between us felt charged, like something unspoken was lingering in the space we refused to address.

Adam must have sensed it too because he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. “You uncomfortable?”

It wasn’t a question.

I blinked, startled by his bluntness. “I—what?”

He studied me for a moment before leaning back again, his expression unreadable. “You keep fidgeting. You haven’t looked at me for more than two seconds. And you keep doing that thing with your fingers.”

I glanced down at my hands, realizing I had been twisting the hem of my shirt this entire time. I immediately let go, feeling my face heat up. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

A slow smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, his gaze dark and full of something I couldn’t quite place. “No?”

I shook my head, determined to keep my voice steady. “No.”

His smirk widened slightly as he leaned back in the chair, his fingers lazily tracing the rim of his whiskey glass. “Then come sit on my lap.”

My breath hitched.

“What?”

His eyes didn’t waver. “Come sit on my lap.”

His words hung in the air between us, thick with unspoken tension. I had expected him to be joking, for that familiar smirk of his to break through any second now and for him to laugh at my flustered expression. But he didn’t. He just sat there, watching me with that dark, unreadable gaze, his fingers lazily tracing the rim of his whiskey glass as if he hadn’t just thrown my entire equilibrium off balance.

“No thanks,” I finally managed, but my voice wavered slightly, betraying the whirlwind of emotions stirring inside me.

Adam tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into the faintest hint of a smirk. “What you scared?”

That was it. That was the moment something inside me shifted. The way he was looking at me, the way he had thrown that challenge into the air as if he already knew I wouldn’t take it—I refused to let him have that satisfaction.

So I straightened my back, lifted my chin slightly, and before I could overthink it, I strode over to him with newfound confidence. He look shocked at first, as if he didn’t believe i’d do it then his smirk deepened slightly, as if he was amused by my sudden boldness, but it faltered for just a second when I swung one leg over his lap, settling onto him so that I was facing him directly.

Our faces were close. Too close.

My knees rested on either side of his thighs, my hands lightly gripping his shoulders for balance, and his own hands instinctively found my waist. The warmth of his touch seeped through the thin fabric of my top, sending a shiver down my spine, but I ignored it, forcing myself to maintain my composure.

I met his gaze, refusing to waver, and smirked. “See? Not scared—”

But I never got to finish that sentence. Because in the next instant, his hand slid up my back, tangled in my hair, and before I could even process what was happening—he kissed me.

My mind went blank.

His lips crashed against mine with a mix of hunger and frustration, as if he had been holding himself back for far too long and had finally decided to stop fighting it. His grip on my waist tightened, pulling me flush against him, and I gasped softly against his mouth. He took advantage of the small opening, deepening the kiss with an intensity that made my toes curl.

This was nothing like I had expected.

Adam was always so mysterious with everything he did, but this—this was raw. Desperate. His lips moved against mine with a need that sent heat flooding through my body, his hands gripping me like he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

And the worst part?

I wasn’t stopping him.

I could feel his smirk against my lips as he felt me give in, but before I could even get annoyed at his cockiness, he suddenly shifted, turning the tables completely.

In one swift movement, he pushed forward, flipping us so that I was now the one pinned against the couch, his body hovering over mine. The weight of him, the warmth, the sheer dominance in the way he moved—it sent my heartbeat into a frenzy.

His mouth left mine, trailing down to my jaw, then lower to the sensitive spot just below my ear. I sucked in a sharp breath, my fingers instinctively gripping the fabric of his shirt as his lips brushed against my skin.

“Still not scared?” he murmured against my neck, his voice rough, teasing.

I hated how much I liked the way he sounded, how his words sent a fresh wave of heat pooling in my stomach.

I swallowed hard, trying to gather my thoughts. “Not scared,” I whispered, but it came out far less convincing than I had hoped.

Adam chuckled softly, his breath warm against my skin. “Liar.”

His hands slid lower, gripping my thighs as he pressed closer, and for a second, I thought I might actually die from how intense this was. But then—

A loud crash echoed from the hallway.

Both of us froze.

A groggy, drunken voice followed. “I think I knocked over a lamp…”

Serena.

Reality came crashing back down like a bucket of ice water.

Adam pulled back slightly, his breathing still uneven, his eyes locked onto mine with something dark and unreadable lingering in them. Neither of us spoke, the weight of what just happened still hanging in the air between us.

Then, as if sensing my inner turmoil, Adam smirked. He reached up, gently brushing his thumb against my bottom lip, his voice dripping with amusement.

His smirk deepened, his thumb still grazing my lip. “Looks like we just hit match point Banks.”

Jungkook’s POV:

Dressed head to toe in all black—an oversized hoodie that hung loosely off his frame, fitted joggers that showcased his lean build, and sleek combat boots that echoed with every step—Jungkook made his way through the airport, his presence undeniable. His dark sunglasses shielded his tired eyes, giving him an air of mystery and detachment, while his sharp jawline was set in a firm, unwavering expression. His posture and demeanor screamed that he was not in the mood for any pleasantries, and it was clear to anyone who crossed his path that approaching him would be a mistake.

As he moved through the bustling terminal, people instinctively stepped aside. Some recognized him, others just sensed the force of his presence. His every step radiated a quiet authority, a silent command that made the world around him feel a little smaller. No one dared to interrupt his pace. The murmurs of the crowd grew distant, as if they knew this was someone not to be trifled with.

Without breaking his stride, Jungkook passed the check-in counters and headed straight toward the exclusive first-class lounge. The security personnel at the entrance, who had seen countless high-profile individuals walk through those doors, gave him a nod of recognition, ushering him in without a word. Inside, the atmosphere was calm, hushed even. A far cry from the noise of the terminal, the lounge was a sanctuary for those accustomed to luxury. Businessmen in tailored suits sipped on expensive whiskey, their conversations low and measured, while celebrities relaxed in plush chairs, their faces hidden behind designer sunglasses. The subtle hum of quiet chatter and clinking glasses filled the air, but none of it seemed to catch Jungkook's attention.

His eyes scanned the room briefly, but his focus remained singular. He moved with purpose, bypassing the distractions of the lounge, and made his way to a private corner near the back. There, his assistant, Minjun, was already handling the final touches of his check-in, ensuring that everything was in place for the flight. Jungkook didn't acknowledge him immediately, instead sinking into a large leather chair with a deep sigh, as if the weight of the world rested squarely on his shoulders.

He pulled out his phone, his fingers moving swiftly across the screen as he navigated to the file his informant had sent him. The file was a mix of personal details, surveillance footage, and updates that had been gathered over the last few weeks. He opened it with a sense of purpose, his eyes scanning each line of information as if he were memorizing it. The details about Aylah Jace Banks stood out immediately—her address, a modest apartment in a quiet part of the city, and her job at a small café. There was mention of her coworkers, a small but close-knit group, and it struck him that she was someone who lived a life far from the chaos of his world.

But it was the next piece of information that made his breath catch, his jaw clenching as he read the words. Her new boss.

The words reverberated in his mind, and his hand tightened around his phone as the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. He read through the note again. Aylah had gotten particularly close to him. Too close.

His eyes narrowed as he continued scrolling, coming across the man’s name—Adam. The café owner. According to the report, Adam was in his late twenties, tall, heavily tattooed, and built like someone who spent more time in the gym than behind a coffee machine. Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the grainy surveillance image that accompanied the report, studying the man's face. The picture was blurry, but it was enough. Adam’s rugged features, the tattoos covering his arms, the cocky smirk that seemed to radiate from the photograph—it was all too clear.

So, this was the guy.

A wave of frustration and anger bubbled up inside him, but he shoved it down quickly. He didn’t have time for that now. What he needed was to focus. His fingers drummed against the edge of the chair as he stared at the image, a dark thought forming in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more the situation irritated him. How had she gotten so close to this man? What had drawn her to him? Was it the way he looked? His personality? Jungkook couldn’t say, but it gnawed at him. He had to find out.

His mind flicked back to Aylah, to the time they had spent together. He could remember her laugh, the way she had always made him feel like the world was lighter, more vibrant, whenever she was around. But that had been before. Now, she was out of his reach, and the thought of another man—this Adam—getting too close made his skin crawl.

Jungkook scoffed under his breath. Doesn’t matter. Whatever was going on between them was about to end.

Just as he was about to keep reading, the presence of someone standing too close to him made him sigh. He could already smell the floral perfume before the voice came.

"Hey there, handsome," a woman purred, her voice laced with a playful, flirtatious tone.

Jungkook didn’t even bother looking up from his phone. His eyes remained glued to the screen, fingers swiping and typing with practiced ease. His focus, unwavering. “Not interested,” he replied flatly, his voice cold, giving nothing away.

The woman, unfazed by his initial dismissal, let out a soft chuckle, the sound rich with amusement. She clearly wasn’t going to give up so easily. “Oh, come on, maybe you should reconsider. You never know what you’re missing.”

Jungkook’s fingers paused mid-swipe, but he still didn’t glance at her. The sound of her voice was starting to get under his skin, but he wasn’t about to let it show. With a slow sigh, he leaned back in his chair, his posture languid but commanding. He had no intention of letting some random woman interrupt his peace.

After a moment, he finally lifted his gaze, his dark eyes locking onto hers. She was leaning against the armrest of his chair, eyes glimmering with interest, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Jungkook tilted his head slightly, studying her for a moment.

The woman was attractive, that much was clear. She had long, tousled hair that framed her face and a bold, confident air about her. But none of it made a difference.

A slow, amused smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he took his time looking her up and down, his expression shifting into one of cool disinterest. He wasn’t impressed, and it showed.

“Why would I want a cheap bitch like you?” he said smoothly, his tone dripping with mockery, the words cutting through the air like a blade. He leaned back further into the chair, arms crossed over his chest, daring her to respond. His eyes were cold, unblinking.

The woman blinked, taken aback for just a moment. But then, her smile faltered, and she opened her mouth to retort, only to be interrupted by Jungkook’s unyielding stare. He wasn’t done.

He let out a quiet laugh, low and dismissive, before continuing. “I have a girlfriend.”

The words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the playful energy she had been trying to project. His voice, now slightly more serious, carried a weight of finality that left no room for debate.

Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing her features. “You have a girlfriend?” she repeated, as though she couldn’t quite process it.

Jungkook’s gaze softened ever so slightly, but the smirk remained. “Yeah. I do.” He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers. “And I’m not looking for anything else. So stop wasting my time.”

Her eyes widened in sheer offense, her lips parting in a scandalized gasp. With an indignant scoff, she spun on her heel and stormed off, her designer heels clicking furiously against the marble floor.

Jungkook barely blinked. Pathetic.

"Sir," a voice, calm yet insistent, pulled Jungkook from the depths of his thoughts. He recognized it immediately—the steady tone of his assistant, Minjun. Looking up, he saw Minjun standing in front of him, his posture impeccable, his expression a perfect blend of professionalism and subtle concern. "It’s time to board."

Jungkook’s fingers brushed against his phone screen as he quickly pocketed it, his mind still lingering on the quiet thoughts that had consumed him. He stood, stretching his arms slightly, feeling the tension in his muscles loosen. The weight of the upcoming journey settled in his chest, but he didn’t allow it to show. He ran a hand through his dark hair and adjusted the hoodie draped casually over his frame. He had become accustomed to the feeling of being under the spotlight, but this trip felt different—this was personal.

Without another word, he nodded at Minjun, who led the way toward the private boarding gate. The two of them moved with practiced ease through the airport’s high-end terminal, bypassing crowds of busy travelers and security checks, until they reached the sleek, black door that would lead them to the plane. As they stepped inside, a flight attendant, dressed in an immaculate uniform, greeted him with a respectful bow, her smile warm but professional.

"Good evening, Mr Jeon," she said, her voice as smooth as the fabric of her attire. "Please make yourself comfortable."

Jungkook offered a polite nod in return, his eyes scanning the cabin as he walked further inside. The interior of the private jet was exactly what he had expected—luxurious, spacious, and designed with meticulous attention to detail. The warm glow of ambient lighting highlighted the plush leather seats and polished wood accents, offering an air of serene elegance. He made his way to his designated seat, a corner berth in the first-class section that offered a panoramic view of the world outside. He sank into the seat, feeling the soft cushioning mold to his frame, and leaned back, letting the weight of the journey settle.

As the plane began to taxi down the runway, Jungkook slipped on an eye mask, blocking out the world around him. The hum of the engine filled the cabin as he shifted slightly in his seat, trying to find the most comfortable position. His mind, however, remained far from the quiet comfort of the moment.

There were still seven hours ahead of him—seven hours of solitude. He needed that time. Seven hours to mentally prepare for the moment that had been building up for what felt like an eternity. Seven hours to remind himself that this time, there would be no hesitation. No turning back.

In London, he would finally see her again. Jungkook’s jaw clenched as he allowed his mind to focus on the purpose of this trip. His fingers gripped the armrests as he took a slow, steady breath. There was no room for doubt, he wasn’t letting her go this time.

Aylah’s POV:

As Adam’s smirk lingered, the sound of Serena fumbling outside the door snapped me back to reality. I exhaled, stepping back from him, my head still spinning. He watched me for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes before he finally sighed.

“I should probably head home,” he murmured, stretching slightly before standing up. His usual cocky demeanor had returned, but there was something else beneath it—something more guarded.

I nodded, unsure of what to say. I felt… overwhelmed. I watched as he pulled on his jacket, running a hand through his already-messy hair before making his way toward the door. He paused just before stepping out, turning back to me with one last glance.

"Night, Banks," he said smoothly, as if what just happened between us was nothing more than a casual moment in a long list of them.

I stood there for a second, trying to process everything, but then Serena groaned from the hallway, reminding me that my best friend was still very much in need of assistance. With a sigh, I grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen before making my way to her.

She was slumped against the wall near the guest room, her usually perfect curls now a mess around her face. One of her heels was missing, and her makeup was smudged. I crouched down beside her, nudging her shoulder.

"Serena, come on," I whispered. "You need to drink this and get to bed."

She let out a tired whine but took the glass anyway, sipping it in slow, exaggerated gulps.

"You’re the best," she slurred, smiling sleepily. "Love you so much, AJ."

I shook my head with a small laugh. "Yeah, yeah, love you too. Now, come on."

With a lot of effort and some stumbling, I managed to haul her into the guest bed, pulling the covers over her before she mumbled something incoherent and immediately passed out.

Finally alone again, I made my way back to my own room, shutting the door behind me with a quiet click. The second I was inside, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. My fingers absentmindedly traced over my lips, the memory of Adam’s kiss still fresh—too fresh.

What the hell just happened?

Adam was—well, Adam. Frustrating. Cocky. Infuriating in every possible way. Sure, he was attractive. More than attractive. And clearly, he was an amazing kisser. But what did that mean? What did I want it to mean? The last thing I needed was another no-label, undefined situation with a guy who had a reputation for keeping things casual. I had been through that before, and it never ended well.

But then why did my skin still tingle where he had touched me? Why did my heart race just remembering the way his lips felt against mine? I exhaled sharply, shaking my head as if I could physically get rid of the thoughts. I needed sleep. That was all. A clear mind. A fresh start in the morning.

So, I climbed into bed, forcing myself to ignore the lingering sensation of Adam’s touch, the smirk in his eyes when he said match point, the way he made me feel. I turned over, squeezing my eyes shut. Just go to sleep, Aylah.

The next morning a loud banging on my door nearly made me fall out of bed.

"AJ! Get up!" Kayla’s voice rang through the apartment, still groggy but far too loud for this early in the morning.

I groaned, rolling over and checking my phone. 8:07 AM. Ugh. I had barely slept.

Dragging myself out of bed, I opened the door to find Kayla standing there, her hair in a messy bun and sunglasses perched on her nose—classic post-hangover survival mode. She held out a mug of coffee like an offering.

"Here. You look like you need this even more than I do," she said, her voice still scratchy.

I took it with a mumbled thanks, sipping at the hot liquid.

She leaned against the doorway, tilting her head slightly. "Sooo… anything interesting happen last night after I passed out?"

I nearly choked on my coffee. "What?"

She smirked, adjusting her sunglasses. "Oh, come on, I may have been drunk, but I swear I saw Adam leaving the living room looking all smug."

I forced a laugh, trying to act casual. "We just talked for a bit. Nothing happened."

Kayla narrowed her eyes. "Uh-huh. Right."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the heat creeping up my neck. "Shouldn't you be dealing with your hangover instead of interrogating me?"

She sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. But this conversation isn't over."

The warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as I tied my apron around my waist, the familiar hum of the café bringing me back to reality. It was busy as always, the comforting clatter of cups and quiet chatter from early-morning customers surrounding me like white noise. I focused on setting up the pastry display, trying to shake off the remnants of last night—the way Adam had kissed me, touched me, the way his voice had sent shivers down my spine.

Stop thinking about it.

I was just placing a tray of croissants onto the counter when a groggy but familiar voice broke through my thoughts.

“AJ….."

I turned to see Serena, Cyrus, and Leah standing a few feet away, all of them looking like they had barely survived the night before. Serena’s hair was a tangled mess, her eyeliner smudged beyond repair. Leah had on oversized sunglasses despite the fact that we were indoors, and Cyrus… well, he just looked like he regretted every life decision he had ever made.

I arched a brow. "Well, look who finally crawled out of the depths of their hangovers."

Serena winced, dramatically rubbing her temples. "God, don’t talk so loud. My brain feels like it's melting."

Cyrus groaned, leaning against the counter. "I swear I’m never drinking again."

Leah pushed her sunglasses up her nose. "You say that every time."

He shot her a half-hearted glare. "Yeah, well, this time I mean it."

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. "So… should I even ask how much of last night you guys remember?"

Serena groaned. "Very little." She looked up at me, her face filled with guilt. "But I do remember being a complete mess, and I’m so, so sorry for putting you through that. Seriously, Ay, you should’ve just left me passed out on the floor."

I let out a small laugh. "I considered it. But then I figured you’d probably roll under the coffee table and never be seen again."

Leah chuckled, but then she sighed, taking a step closer. "No, but really, we feel awful. We were so out of it, and you were probably just trying to enjoy your night, and instead, you had to babysit us."

Serena nodded. "Yeah. And apparently, I knocked over a lamp? Sorry about that."

I shook my head with a small smile. "Guys, it’s fine. I promise. You were drunk, not evil. And honestly? It was kind of funny."

Serena perked up. "Wait, really?"

I smirked. "Yeah. You kept calling me ‘Mom’ and tried to make me read you a bedtime story before you’d agree to go to sleep."

Cyrus snorted. "That actually sounds like something she’d do."

Leah laughed, nudging Serena. "Aren’t you a little old for bedtime stories?"

Serena groaned. "Oh my God, I hate myself."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Relax, I’ve seen you all way worse. Just maybe don’t black out in my living room again."

Cyrus placed a hand over his heart. "Scout’s honor."

Serena grinned. "Okay, Mom."

I rolled my eyes, swatting at her playfully. "Go drink some water before you pass out again."

We were still laughing when the bell above the café door jingled.

And just like that, my laughter died in my throat.

Adam’s black t-shirt clung to his toned frame in a way that made me want to scream, and his dark hair was still slightly tousled, as if he had just rolled out of bed looking perfect. But what made my stomach tighten wasn’t how good he looked. It was the way my mind immediately threw me back to last night.

His lips on mine. His hands gripping my waist. His voice, low and teasing, whispering against my skin.

Heat rushed to my face, and I quickly looked down, pretending to suddenly be very interested in rearranging the croissants. But Adam? Completely unfazed.

He barely even glanced in my direction as he walked past, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed like nothing had happened at all.

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the edge of the counter.

Of course. Of course, he was acting like it was nothing. What did I expect? That he’d walk in here and immediately sweep me off my feet? That he’d pull me aside and confess that he couldn’t stop thinking about me?

Get a grip, Aylah.

Cyrus must have noticed something was off because he nudged me lightly. "You okay?"

I forced a smile, nodding quickly. "Yeah, just tired."

Serena, thankfully, was too busy chugging a glass of water to notice anything. Leah, however, shot me a look like she knew exactly what was going on.

I ignored it.

Instead, I turned back to my work, trying my best to pretend that Adam’s presence wasn’t making my heart race, that his indifference didn’t sting just a little more than I wanted to admit. But as I reached for the coffee cups, I caught him in my peripheral vision, standing near the back of the café.

And even though he was acting like nothing had happened I could’ve sworn I saw the corner of his lips tug up in the faintest smirk.

I forced myself to shake off the lingering thoughts of Adam, inhaling deeply as I focused on the rhythm of my morning routine. The café was filling up fast, customers lining up for their morning caffeine fixes, and I was determined to bury myself in work.

Serena had finally managed to rehydrate and regain some of her usual energy, now busy making lattes while Cyrus handled the pastries. Leah leaned against the counter beside me, casually observing the morning rush before nudging my arm.

"So," she said, drawing out the word. "You sure you're okay?"

I sighed, keeping my eyes on the espresso machine. "Leah, if you ask me that one more time, I’m going to start charging you for emotional labor."

She chuckled, but I could tell she wasn’t convinced. "Fine, fine. I just… I saw the way you looked when he walked in."

I clenched my jaw slightly, keeping my voice even. "It’s nothing."

"Uh-huh." Leah crossed her arms, tilting her head. "You sure? Because you looked like you wanted to either run out the back door or throw a coffee at his head."

I huffed out a laugh. "Well, neither of those options would be very professional, would they?"

She grinned. "No, but they’d be fun to watch."

Before I could respond, the door chimed again, and I turned instinctively—grateful for the distraction. But instead of another wave of customers, a familiar face walked in.

His tall frame was unmistakable, his sandy brown hair slightly messy as always. He had this easygoing energy about him, the kind that always made people feel comfortable. Dressed in a fitted navy sweater and jeans, he looked effortlessly put together, his hazel eyes scanning the café before landing on us.

A slow smile spread across his lips as he approached the counter. "Well, if it isn’t my favorite barista."

Before I could respond, I felt Leah stiffen beside me. Subtle, but noticeable. Her eyes darted to Ryan, then back down to the register as if suddenly fascinated by the buttons. I smirked. Oh, this is interesting.

"Ryan, hey!" I greeted him, but as I spoke, I nudged Leah forward—just enough to make her stumble slightly.

She shot me a death glare but quickly composed herself. "Uh—hi, Ryan." Her voice was a little higher than usual, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

Ryan, completely oblivious, smiled at her. "Leah! Good to see you. How’s life treating you?"

She blinked. "Oh. Yeah. Good. Great."

I stifled a laugh. Smooth.

Ryan nodded. "Glad to hear it. I figured I'd come in for the best coffee in town before heading to the office."

Leah, still clearly flustered, took a deep breath before blurting out, "AJ makes the best caramel macchiato! You should totally order one!"

I rolled my eyes dramatically. Seriously?

Ryan chuckled. "That so? Sounds like a solid recommendation." He then turned to Leah, a teasing glint in his eye. "What about you? What do you make the best?"

Leah blinked rapidly, caught off guard. "Uh—I mean, I’m really good at…" She trailed off, looking completely lost. Then, she blurted out, "Pouring coffee. I pour great coffee."

I let out a strangled cough to cover my laughter while Serena and Cyrus were visibly shaking with silent amusement behind the counter.

Ryan, either completely oblivious or just being polite, grinned. "Then I think I'll need you to be the one to pour my coffee today."

Leah froze, her face going pink. "Me? Oh. Right. Yeah. Sure!"

She scrambled to grab a cup, nearly knocking over an entire stack in the process. As she worked on his drink, Ryan casually leaned on the counter, completely at ease.

"So, how’ve you been?" he asked her.

Leah, still flustered, cleared her throat. "Oh, you know. Living the dream. Making coffee. Getting blackout drunk with these idiots."

Ryan laughed. "Sounds about right. No surprise Serena was involved."

"Hey!" Serena called from the espresso machine. "I don’t always blackout!"

Ryan smirked. "You absolutely do."

Leah handed him his coffee—miraculously without spilling it—and Ryan took a sip. "Perfect," he said, flashing her a grin. "You weren’t lying about the coffee skills."

Leah let out a nervous laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Uh, yeah. Thanks."

Ryan glanced at the time. "I gotta run, but it was good seeing you guys. I’ll be back soon." His eyes flickered to Leah briefly before he smiled again. "See you around."

As soon as he walked out the door, the café erupted.

"Oh. My. God." Serena gushed, spinning to face Leah. "That was painful to watch but also incredibly entertaining."

Cyrus wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "Leah, did you really just say your special skill is pouring coffee?"

Leah groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I hate all of you."

I grinned, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "Don’t worry. You only made a complete fool of yourself."

She whacked my arm. "You're supposed to be my friend!"

I laughed. "Oh, I am. Which is why I’m going to lovingly remind you of this moment for the rest of eternity."

Leah groaned again, but despite her embarrassment, there was a tiny smile playing on her lips. 

Cyrus clapped his hands together, shaking his head with an amused smirk. “Alright, enough teasing Leah. We actually have jobs to do, and unless we want Adam breathing down our necks, we should probably get back to work.”

Serena groaned dramatically. “Ugh, way to ruin the fun.”

Leah laughed, nudging her playfully. “Come on, we’ll grab more cups from the back.”

Serena rolled her eyes but followed Leah toward the storage room, still giggling under her breath. Meanwhile, Cyrus grabbed a towel, heading toward the sink to start washing the growing pile of mugs.

That left me at the counter, sorting through receipts and straightening out the bills in the register. The café had settled into a comfortable rhythm—machines whirring, quiet conversation buzzing in the background, the occasional sound of ceramic clinking against wood. It was just another normal shift, the kind I’d done a hundred times before.

But then the air shifted, subtle but undeniable, as someone stepped up to the counter. A presence. I didn’t look up right away, too focused on adjusting the register. “Hi, how can I help you?” I said automatically, my tone polite but distracted.

The lack of response caused my chest to tighten. Slowly, I lifted my gaze, and the moment my eyes landed on the figure standing in front of me, the world around me seemed to still. 

It was Jungkook.

[sadnightforus]

[6:48 PM] “Can I sit with you?” 

 His voice startles you out of your concentration that was on your work earlier, but you look up to find the source of the voice and you find that it’s a guy, a handsome one indeed. 

 You’re at your comfort café (although it has been open for just 2 weeks), but it quickly becomes your spot to go to chill at, whether you’re doing assignments, which is something you’re doing right now, or wasting your time away. 

 You have your green tea frappe by your side, a laptop and a phone, focusing on your work until a person came along and shot you a question. 

“Uhm.. yeah sure. Take it easy.” You respond, ashamed by your obvious potential starstruck expression you must’ve made like you’ve seen a god in real time. 

 He pulls the seat, then sits down, dropping his bag onto his lap too as he seems to be in rather hurry mode to finish it. He pulls his iPad out, with a pen and it’s when you notice that he drinks an iced latte. 

“Sorry about that. It’s just, there are no other table and yours is the only one with an empty seat. I hope it’s not troubling you.” He profusely apologizes for disturbing your peace and you ought to scream that you’d let him do that any time as he wishes. 

“It’s no problem with me.” You smile, trying to show that you’re more than welcoming for his presence. 

“I think as a thank you, I should learn my savior's name, if you don’t mind me asking?” He questions, and you think to yourself, smooth. Real smooth. His attention has been pulled from his iPad to settle his eyes on you instead. 

“Y/N, what about you?” Your eyes have a twinkle of amusement, which he can’t help but compliment on it. 

“That’s a pretty name. You’re pretty.” He then clears his throat. “I’m Taehyun.” And he is so pretty, with his eyes, nose, lips and gentleness like that. 

 Pretty boy with a pretty name, that’s what you think. 

“Your name is as beautiful as you too.” You return the smile, although this time you take the initiative to flirt first. 

“You’re much cuter.” He comments. 

“Hmm not so sure about that pretty boy.” And then you ask him. “What major are you in?” 

 You both ended up chatting for a little while, discovering that he took environmental science while you took finances and that you both attended two different universities that happened to be located near each other. You both talk about your common interests; which are music and comment on how good the shop owner’s taste in songs is— the reason why you keep coming back.

 You look at the time, and realize that you both have been talking for almost an hour. 

“I hate to cut the conversation so short.. but I have the work due. If you want to ask anything, don’t hesitate to throw it myself.” And he nods, understanding it as he too, goes back to work on his own notes. 

 The table falls silent, a comfortable silence between two strangers that happened to encounter tonight due to Taehyun unable to grab a table at a famous café shop. He, too, is quiet and doesn’t ask questions. Occasionally, you can hear the pen making noise against the screen as an indication that he too, is also studying. 

 You don’t know how much time has passed, but you’re now done with your assignment. You finally look up to see that the shop has customers coming in and out, never making it quiet. You realize that it’s probably very late too and you want to go home and finally relax. 

 You shut your laptop down and sip on your drink, then put everything into your bag, rechecking to make sure you didn’t leave anything. Taehyun notices, knowing you’re about to leave and he hates the small talk you both had when he wanted to extend that. As you zip your bag, stand up and ready to leave, he stops you by calling out your name. 

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You quirk your eyebrow in confusion, an adorable kind of confusion from Taehyun’s view. 

“I hate to make this talk so short, so I was thinking if I can get your number.” 

 How is he so smooth? It’s unfair that someone who is as handsome as him also is that charismatic. 

 But you smile before you give your response, after looking at his piercing eyes that eventually turn soft overtime and you think that he must’ve been really shy. You hear his “You’re pretty.” thrown to you mindlessly but you pretend that you didn’t catch it. 

“Sure. But give me your number too.”

 You both end up exchanging each other’s phones to type the number before handing it back to one another. As you brace yourself and finally get his number, you lock your phone, then look up to see Taehyun smiles at you. 

“See you later.” You wave to him, heart is full of a feline-appearance who manages to charm you tonight with only his smile. 

“See you.” He waves back, his eyes never losing its sparkle as he watches you turn around and start heading out of the café shop, then disappears out of his sight. 

 You consider tonight a win as you get to drink your favorite order, complete your work and get a cute boy’s number. 

COPYRIGHTED BY SADNIGHTFORUS, 2025

A/N: know by meyou... i believe in you. also, my second fic of taehyun to thai's song. a coincidence? i think not. also i wrote this in june last year lol

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

[couldawouldashoulda50]

A/N: I had this idea back in December when Alex was playing with the Marlies. He led the team in an incredible comeback after being down 3-0 against Bakersfield, finishing the night with five points—two assists, three goals, and an OT winner to complete the hat trick.

I started wondering… what if Loren showed up at his game one afternoon—completely unprompted, just because she wanted to support him? Would that mean something to Alex? Would it affect him in a way he didn't expect?

I had so much fun writing this, and I hope there’s an audience out there for it. ❤️ *Note - as much as I try to keep real events aligned with dates and such, I realize that Ella Nylander was already in TO at the time but kept that fact out for the sake of the story.

Warnings - profanity, high level description during a hook-up (not terribly detailed smut), allusions to Loren and William in bed.

18+ only please.

Word count - 7k

Loren approached the usher at the entrance to the stands at Coca-Cola Coliseum, the home arena for the Toronto Marlies - the farm team for the Maple Leafs.

She showed the electronic ticket on her phone with her seat number. “Row CC - straight down to ice level…you’ll see a lot of the action - great view. Enjoy the game and let me know if you have any questions.”

Loren thanked him and began descending down the metal steps which creaked and shifted slightly with every step. She felt the energy and excitement in the air of the arena as she slipped into her seat by the glass. She was the lone person in her row at that moment, the coldness of the seat and the chill from the ice’s surface had her zipping up her vest and adjusting her knitted cream turtleneck.

William had left for Detroit the day before and told her to stay at the condo, take it easy - try to enjoy a rare weekend to herself. But sleeping in his bed without him had only made her miss him more. She decided to head home after lunch on Saturday, but as she merged onto the northbound Don Valley Parkway, she had a spur-of-the-moment idea and decided to go to see Alex (Nylander) and the Marlies play that afternoon instead. Taking the first viable exit off the parkway, she entered the address of the arena into her GPS at a traffic light. She decided not to even let Alex know she was coming - she would send him a congratulatory text or one with words of support afterward once she arrived home, depending on the outcome.

As she settled into her seat, Loren took another glance around the arena, her gaze lifting to the banners in the rafters and the large video screen hanging over center ice. William played here once. The thought crossed her mind as she imagined him at eighteen—this gorgeous, fresh-faced, highly touted rookie as he stepped onto this very ice. He had always been confident, that much she knew, but she wondered, aside from the hockey aspect, how he truly felt back then, navigating his life as a young player in a city like Toronto.

Smiling to herself, she pulled out her phone and snapped a quick selfie—her seat by the glass, trying to angle the shot to capture the Marlies emblem at centre ice. She sent it to William - no caption, no explanation - just a photo.

The response was almost immediate.

William: Beautiful ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 are you at Alex’s game?

Loren grinned, pulling her phone out of her pocket again.

Loren: Yes - I decided to come watch him at the last minute. I was actually going home because I miss my boys so much…but I turned around when I got the idea to come watch Alex play.

There was a pause—just long enough that she could picture him considering the words in her message.

William: That’ll mean a lot to him. Does he know ur there?

Loren: No - I didn’t want to bother him…he’ll be coming out soon for warm-ups so maybe he’ll see me. Snagged first row - I can’t even get first row to see you 😝😘

William: I’d be too distracted seeing you in the first row ❤️‍🔥🫠🥴

Loren: It would be distracting since I’d be in heat and licking the glass the entire time 🤤🫦

There was another pause, he was typing, then he would stop and start again.

William: Fuck, you really are the best. Please don’t go home afterward….it’ll be late but I really hope you’ll be there in bed when i get back.

Loren: I can hardly wait…have a good game. will be thinking about you.

She knew they could just go on and on with messaging so William just responding with another heart-on-fire emoji.

She slipped her phone back in her pocket, barely realizing her perma-grin that she was wearing. William had this way of making her feel like she could levitate. The warmth she felt from their brief exchange cut through the chill in the arena far better than her chunky turtleneck did.

Loren looked around at all the spectators starting to file into their seats. Kids started to line up along the class with some handmade signs for their favourite players - smaller scale than what she had witnessed at Leaf games but no less endearing. The energy in the atmosphere was building and there were moments where she felt just as excited to be there as she is when she sees William play.

With the bass pounding and the laser show flashing, the announcer riled up the crowd as the Marlies players began filing onto the ice, followed by Bakersfield, the opposing team. Her eyes darted around as she scanned the sea of jerseys and helmets. It wasn’t long before they landed on the jersey number 92, who was skating hard around the corners, a look of absolute focus on his face.

He skated past her spot in the stands, and Loren figured he hadn’t seen her. Her gaze trailed after him for a moment before shifting to a few other players she recognized. But when she glanced back, searching for Alex again, she caught him mid-lap—just as he turned his head and nearly collided with Alex Steeves. Both players stumbled, their skates catching awkwardly on the ice. He stopped abruptly, his skates gripping the ice as his brows furrowed, focusing on her and processing her presence. As he approached the glass, she gave him a small wave and an easy smile, mouthing, “Hi.”

Alex grinned, a mix of surprise and delight lighting up his expression. He shook his head slightly, as if to say, What are you doing here? Loren smiled and shrugged, pointing to the ice, mouth: to watch you play.

Alex was touched. He had never even thought of asking if she’d ever want to come to a Marlies game. And he liked Loren - he always had. They got along well and occasionally bantered back and forth but there was a part of him that felt something else whenever she was around. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable - unsettling maybe? Not about who Loren was - he knew she was good to the core. But still - it was something he noticed, this vague feeling that he could never put his finger on it, but it wasn’t hidden enough for him to shake entirely.

As warmups continued, Loren noticed some of Alex’s teammates lining up along the glass and seemingly sneaking glances her way, nudging each other and laughing under their breath. She pretended not to notice, keeping her attention on Alex as he shot pucks at the net. He barely looked her way again, but she knew he was aware of her. His strides were longer, his shots harder. And when he lingered near her side of the ice, stretching, working his edges, it wasn’t an accident.

Some of the players were flipping pucks over the glass towards a group of young fans. A boy near Loren, not more than 9 or 10 approached her with a puck that he had just caught, and offered it to her.

Loren’s eyes went wide with appreciation, sweetly declining the offer.

“Oh my gosh, no….you keep this, but I really appreciate the offer! Thank you so much…that was very kind of you,” Loren smiling.

Alex laughed as he watched the reaction of the boy walk away grinning like an idiot as he approached his friends. If he was being honest, he didn’t blame the boy one bit.

As warmups concluded and the players all filed off the ice, Loren settled back down in her seat. She flagged down a vendor selling drinks and popcorn, and watched as her food was passed along towards her, promptly thanking her seat “neighbours” for obliging.

Once the game began, it was clear Loren was not bringing the Marlies any kind of luck. She tried not to be superstitious or think that because of her mere attendance that day, that she could set the entire tone for the game. Still, Toronto being down 3-0 by the end of the first wasn’t what she had hoped for.

The second and third periods made up for the abysmal start to the game. Bakersfield answered the first Marlies goal by scoring two more. But Alex clapped back and potted one in the net edging the game closer in scoring. What no one knew is that after the 5th Bakersfield goal, the Marlies would own the rest of the game.

With the game tied at the end of the third, heading into overtime, Alex had scored twice, and had two secondary assists.

Once OT had begun and bolstered by their amazing comeback to tie the game, the Marlies, and Alex specifically, had a dogged determination apparent to every spectator in the stands.

Over three minutes in, Loren was on the edge of her seat as she watched Alex hit an opposing player, then take off up the middle of the ice. United with the rest of the fan base, Loren could feel the roar increasing as the Marlies pushed down in to the offensive zone. With a teammate on his left, Alex took the pass keeping his stride, skating straight toward the goalie. Loren, along with everyone around her, shot to her feet as Alex veered right. A smooth backhand—perfectly placed—and just like that, the puck hit the back of the net. OT winner. Hat trick. First star of the game.

Loren chatted briefly with her seat neighbours before they began the ascent up the stairs towards the exit. Loren wasn’t in a rush as she hadn’t figured out what was in store for her for the rest of the night. Yes, she was staying in the city but there were hours before she would be ready to crawl into William’s bed. She considered texting Alice—Simon Benoit’s partner—to see if she and baby Adelaide were up for a little late-night fun. But, as Loren soon found out, both Alice and Adelaide were down for the count with a virus that had been making the rounds, for the second time that season. Although Alice texted she would love for Loren to come and keep her company, they both knew that Loren couldn’t risk transmitting to those she supported in the group home.

A woman’s voice called out to her. “Loren?”

Loren smiled, but she did not recognize the woman who called her name. “Hi, yes - I’m Loren.”

“Nice to meet you. Alex wanted me to try and catch you before you left. Sorry - I’m Kate Bascom, Media Manager for the team.”

Loren’s eyes flashed with recognition. “So nice to meet you, Kate. Alex wants to see me?”

“He asked that I bring you down the tunnel - they’ll be doing their media availability soon so I’ll find a spot for you to sit and wait for him, okay?”

“Oh - okay, sounds good. Thank you so much,” Loren blushed.

Loren followed Kate as she lead the way through the twists and turns of the corridors leading towards the lockers.

As they walked, Loren hesitated, her steps slowing. The last thing she needed was people jumping to conclusions about her and Alex. Explaining the truth felt almost worse—because once people started talking, through all the available forums for gossiping, it would be out in universe forever.

It was as though Kate could read Loren’s mind as they walked. “So Alex mentioned you’re William’s girlfriend?”

Their pace slowed. Loren flexed her fingers, her stomach tightening at the question. Loren Looked at Kate and spoke as quietly as she could. “Well, yes - we’ve been seeing each other exclusively since Thanksgiving.” Loren hesitated before she continued explaining her and William’s status to Kate. “Both he and I want to keep everything absolutely under wraps so I’d rather just sit somewhere off to the side until Alex is done his stuff.”

Being the Media Manager for the Marlies for a number of years, this was well within her area of expertise. Kate found it oddly refreshing - normally it was the player asking to keep things confidential, not the other way around. The worry in Loren’s face made it clear—this wasn’t just something casual. Whatever was between her and William, they were serious about keeping it private.

Kate led Loren through a small enclave that opened into a much larger room, packed with every kind of hockey equipment imaginable. “Loren, I’m going to grab Wil - he’s the Head Equipment Manager. He’ll find a spot for you to wait for Alex, okay? I’m sure you’re used to waiting around after the games,” she winked.

“I really appreciate it Kate - thank you so much,” Loren smiled, cheeks still aflush.

The life these professional players led often felt dizzying to Loren. Even after her time with William, she felt like she’d barely scratched the surface. And now, seeing Alex’s experience too, she was even more amazed. The contrast between William and Alex was vast—both professional players, both Nylanders, yet leading very different careers. And behind closed doors, she saw the unique bond they shared. The chirping they doled out to each other, the arguing, the laughter, their undying support for one another. She felt so fortunate to witness any of it.

Approaching Loren was a broad man with slicked back hair, accompanied by Kate. Kate began the introductions. “Loren, this is Wil Burns. He’s been a part of the equipment staff for the Marlies for many years. Wil this is Loren - ,” Kate looked at Loren to fill in the blank.

Loren extended her hand, a wide grin on her face. “Girard. Loren Girard. Wil - it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, Loren,” Wil smiled, shaking her hand. “You can come back into this area and watch all the goings on until Alex is through with his interviews. You came for the right game - pretty exciting, eh?”

Loren chuckled. “I thought maybe I should leave after the first - that maybe I was bad luck for the team,” she smiled. “I’m glad they grabbed that momentum and just ran with it. It’s such great hockey.”

Wil took the time to walk Loren through the post-game routines of the players and staff. She’d never been this close to it with the Leafs, so she absorbed every detail, fascinated by how much went on behind the scenes.

As the post game media scrums wrapped up, Loren saw Alex walking through the dressing room, followed by William Villeneuve. Both players had an incredible night - Alex with his 5 points and William with 4. She smiled watching Alex from a distance - there was no denying he was 100% pure Nylander. There were many different traits between William and Alex, both in stature and in personality, and Loren had begun to see those differences the more time she spent with the brothers.

Kate tapped Alex on the shoulder, nodding toward Loren. His grin spread wide before he could stop it, and—almost unbelievably—his cheeks flushed pink as he stepped toward her.

Then she smiled at him. Her expression was full of warmth mixed with excitement and pride. The way she looked at him made Alex feel like he was the only person in the room.

Something strange settled in his chest.

Up until that moment, Loren had always just been William’s girl. Hell, Alex had once flat-out told William to move on from her—to focus on hockey instead of whatever was happening between them.

But so much had transpired since then.

Alex remembered when William told him—plain as day—that no one brought anything close to what Loren brought into his life. Alex had brushed it off at the time, giving William some generic, emotionless response.

But now, standing in front of her, he understood what William meant in a way he never had before.

Alex barely had time to process the shift inside him before Loren stepped forward, her eyes dancing with excitement.

"Hej där!" Her Swedish was careful and a little hesitant, but the fact she tried made it endearing. "Oh my gosh, amazing game! Congratulations, Alex!" she beamed.

A warmth filled Alex’s chest - it was nice having someone waiting for him after a game. Someone that was invested and cheered for whether his team won or lost. Someone that was gorgeous on the outside, enough to make his teammates envious, but sweet enough on the inside to impress his grandmother.

Someone like Lo—no. No, no, no. Not someone like Loren. Not Loren.

She was William’s girlfriend. You cannot think about her that way.

Alex clenched his jaw, forcing the thought from his mind before it could settle.

And then Loren hugged him.

Brief. Polite.

But long enough for Alex’s cheeks to flush an even deeper shade of red. Long enough for him to catch a hint of her fragrance—warm and familiar, the same scent that marks her presence in the condo.

“I was thinking that I brought some bad juju or something in the first…I was going slink out and send you an apology later. But god, when you guys turned it around….well, I guess you don’t need my replay - you made so much of it happen,” Loren blushed, slightly embarrassed about her enthusiastic commentary.

Alex chuckled at the jab she made to herself. “Hey - well…uh, I think a bunch of us are going out…did you want to tag along or -?”

Loren’s expression was appreciative mixed with apologetic. “That sounds awesome but I think it’s best if I just head back to the condo. Watch William play, head to bed - pretty tame….you know me,” she smiled.

Alex looked around into the adjoining room where a few of his teammates had conveniently stopped to have a “conversation” about “their hockey sticks” all while unabashedly checking out Loren from behind.

“Nawh - that sounds good, some these guys might start creepin’ up to you anyway,” Alex remarked, looking over her shoulder and making eye contact until they unglued their gaze from Loren’s ass. “Some of them don’t know how to behave…,” he said loudly, getting their attention before Loren had a chance to turn around.

Loren sensed there was a moment that just occurred between Alex and the small group of players off to the side. Whatever just happened was more than enough to signify that it was time for her to go.

She and Alex chatted for a few more minutes, keeping it light—whether William had asked her to pick up Pablo and Banksy, or if she wanted Alex to grab something for her and bring it by later.

Loren thanked him and replied that William wanted to keep his routine with the dogs, then told Alex she might make something for herself, but she appreciated the offer.

And with that, she said she’d see him later—and to call if he needed a ride.

Alex reentered the dressing room, already bracing himself for the chirps and questions. He knew they were coming.

And sure enough—he wasn’t wrong.

After systematically shutting it all down with a casual, “She is 100% taken—no guy on the planet has a chance with her,” followed by a chuckle and a resounding, “Give it up,” Alex hit the showers, letting the hot water drown out all the questions, the teasing, and whatever the hell that weird feeling was from earlier.

—

Alex slid into his older brother’s Porsche. He sat for a moment, contemplating his options for the night.

He could drop the car off at home, grab an Uber, and really let loose.

Or he could just drive himself, keep it to one or two drinks, and call it a night.

There were plenty of options, but given his mood? Two drinks felt like enough.

Soon, messages began popping up—many from girls he’d connected with recently, all of them congratulating him on a great game.

One message caught his attention—not because of what it said, but because of who sent it. Nevaeh.

They met one evening at a popular Toronto night spot back in November when the Nylander siblings were all together. Alex had been dancing with another girl, her name long lost in his mind, drowning in a sea of possibilities—when Nevaeh scooched behind him to get by.

Her hands were planted firmly on his waist as she shimmied past, but given the dance floor seemed to have ample room, her touch left Alex a bit puzzled yet intrigued.

The two would keep bumping into one another, and by the end if the night, Alex had her online details. Over the course of the past weeks, Alex and Neveah kept in touch, though there were no real conversations to speak of. They sexted, sending provocative and extremely elicit messages and photos back and forth. He liked her confidence - her boldness - he had always been drawn to women who just lay it all out there.

Neveah’s message suggested that he come over for a bit while she got ready for the club. Just hang out, she said. Then we can go together.

Alex wasn’t an idiot. The invite was simple enough but it was the accompanying pictures that gave him the extra context he needed.

His lips quirked at the corner as he tapped out a reply.

Alex: Omw.

And with that, he pulled out of the lot.

—

Nevaeh wasted no time the second he closed her apartment door.

He barely had a chance to scan her body under the robe that she quickly untied. She was pressed up against him, threading her fingers through his hair along the collar of his jacket. She flashed a wicked grin, telling him how fucking hot he looked, before her lips pressed against his. Alex let her take control, let her pull him toward the bedroom, let her undress him with absolute efficiency.

This wasn’t about connection.

She was good—knew exactly what she was doing, knew exactly how to work him up, what to say and how to say it. She was on her knees, her expression covering all bases between innocence and unbridled sexual hunger. Before he had a chance to think, her hands and mouth moved on his cock with practiced skill.

It was good. It had its desired effect.

Later, she climbed on top of him, sliding his cock into her, rolling her hips, and taking what she wanted while Alex let her. His hands gripped her waist and watched her enjoying herself. He was feeling pretty good himself as well so win win at the end of the day.

He watched her as she bounced on him, closing in on her orgasm. He could feel his own climax beginning to take hold, and once she reached the height of her release, he flipped her onto her back and jackhammered her until he spilled out into the condom.

After the highs of their respective orgasms had faded, they lay apart in silence as their breathing returned to normal. Nevaeh barely spared him a glance as she pecked him on the cheek, reaching for her phone while curling into his side. Scrolling. Giggling. Liking. Typing.

Alex stared at the ceiling, waiting for that post-sex haze to settle in.

It didn’t.

The silence between them solidified their lack of compatibility, apparent to Alex only in that moment.

But what Neveah said to him, once she broke the silence, was the thing that really annoyed the shit out of him.

“So,” she started, her voice suddenly a slightly higher pitch, almost childlike. “We should skip the club and go back to your place. Introduce me to your brother.”

Alex brows furrowed as he tilted his head to look at her.

"What?"

"You know," she said, smirking at her screen, "I bet you and him would love me and…oooh, maybe even a couple of my girls." She finally glanced up, giving him a playful nudge. "You should make it happen. We'd be... very attentive to both you boys, if we were given the opportunity."

Alex let out a short laugh, mostly because what the fuck else was he supposed to do?

This wasn’t new. Not even remotely. Women had been propositioning them both for years—together, separately, in various places around the world. And of course, as young and virile men would do, they enjoyed in obliging the offers from time to time.

The annoying part was how casually Neveah brought up William. Like it wasn’t enough that Alex had just fucked her—she wanted a shot at his brother too.

Of course she did.

Even after a five-point night, even after leading his team to an OT win, William was still the focal point.

Alex didn’t resent his brother. Not really. But it was hard to ignore that no matter what he did, no matter how good he played, William was always the name people cared about.

He exhaled sharply, shifting out from under Nevaeh’s hold and reaching for his phone.

He tapped on a new message received. The second he saw her name, his stomach flipped.

Loren.

He frowned at his own reaction. That was weird.

Still, he opened the message.

Loren: Hey - hope you're out enjoying yourself - I just wanted to let you know that thanks to you, I'm hooked on Chipotle’s and I got a separate order of your favorite if you (and any potential company 😉😉😉😉😏😏😏) might be hungry when you come in.

A grin tugged at his lips. Even the insinuation made him chuckle.

And then, just as quickly, that strange feeling crept back in.

Loren.

How was she always like this?

God, she was so caring, so thoughtful. Even with him.

It wasn’t just her coming to the game today. It wasn’t just the healthy breakfasts and dinners that she made for them. There were so many little things. The way she always made sure that when she brought William little treats from some obscure place that there was something for him too.

William had once mentioned how Loren tried to make sure that he and Alex had their space to do their things together. She never wanted anyone to feel like she was encroaching on their time together. She understands how important our relationship is, William had explained.

Alex had been baffled by that at first. Almost suspicious at times thinking that it was set up. That she would turn into this overly demanding, over-bearing, attention seeking girlfriend.

That hasn’t happened.

Loren genuinely cared. About William. About their family. About him.

And the fucked-up thing? He liked how that felt.

Alex exhaled, locking his phone before he let himself think too hard about it.

"I should head out - not feeling great," he muttered, already grabbing his underwear and his pants.

Nevaeh barely looked up. "Mmm, Alex - let me come home with you. It’ll take me 10 minutes just to grab a few things."

*"*Not this time - got family visiting,” Alex countered, which wasn’t true — the family was arriving the next day.

She pouted, running her nails down his stomach. "Oh c’mon…..families love me, and I want to meet your dogs…they’re soooo cute."

Alex huffed a laugh. Sure she did.

Was it that she was confident? Or plain delusional.

“Maybe another time. I think I’m coming down with something… been going around on the Leafs too," Alex mumbled, already pulling on his jacket.

Nevaeh pouted, tugging at his wrist. "Fine. But next time, I wanna meet your brother."

Alex didn’t bother responding. He just grabbed his keys and walked out

—

It was a Saturday night—a night for celebrating, for drinking, for being out with his teammates and countless available women.

Yet for Alex, all he felt was the pull to go home.

He sat in the Porsche, the low idle of the engine filling the quiet space around him.

The club had been an option. Hell, it was still an option. He could turn around right now, meet up with his teammates, let himself get lost in the music, the booze, the girls who were always eager to celebrate a win or to soothe a loss.

But tonight somehow was different. Tonight, the only place he wanted to be was home.

What remained an issue in his mind - he was sat there not because he was tired. Nor was it because the post-sex emptiness with Nevaeh pissed him off.

He hated to admit it but he wanted to be home because of Loren.

Alex ran a hand through his hair, sighing as he stared out the windshield, the underground parking garage dimly lit around him.

Loren was William’s girl. That was unshakable. Undeniable.

She loved his brother in a way that made it clear there wasn’t a single other man on the planet for her.

And Alex? He would never—could never—betray William like that.

So why the hell was he here instead of out celebrating?

His fingers drummed against the steering wheel, thoughts circling, twisting, refusing to settle.

Maybe it was that he needed comfort instead of clubbing tonight.

Maybe he just liked having her around.

Maybe it was nice to talk to someone who wasn’t trying to use him, or compare him to his brother, or get something out of him.

And maybe, for the first time in a long time, that felt better than anything else.

Alex groaned, shaking his head. Jesus. What the fuck am I even thinking?

He grabbed the keys, cut the engine, and climbed out of the car.

When he got upstairs, Loren would be there. Probably curled up on the couch, watching the Leafs game, waiting for William to get back.

And for Alex - Alex was just going to walk in, sit down, and act like nothing was different.

Even if everything felt different.

The minute he walked in - he realized he had been building up an idea in his head that dissipated the second he saw her. She looked exactly as he envisioned her to be. Curled up on the couch, watching the Leafs and her beloved, his brother, try to win a hockey game.

She game him a warm smile when Alex appeared from around the corner. “They’re down 3-2.”

“Ooof, fuck.” Alex’s focus immediately went to the time remaining in the 3rd period as he stretched out on the opposing end of the couch. “Woller will be coming out soon.”

Loren covered her eyes. “See - I’m not good in these games…I can’t watch. I’ll grab you a glass of wine if you want?”

Alex chuckled. “Yeah - sure, go make your escape…some red would be great.” Relief washed over him as he sat and watched the dying minutes of the game. He felt okay - he felt in control, and he felt that whatever emotions he had going on earlier that night were circumstantial and very temporary.

Loren called from the kitchen asking Alex if he wanted his Chipotle’s warmed up.

Suddenly starving, Alex called back “Ja, tack.” A minute later, she heard him loudly mutter to her from the living room “Fuck - empty netter. Well, that’s that. 4-2.”

Loren walked back in and set down a coaster and a glass of wine for Alex and herself.

"Tack. Ser du? Kanske hade de kvitterat om du inte hade gått," Alex teased. "William tappade pucken med sex sekunder kvar." ("Thanks. See? Maybe they would have tied it if you hadn't left," Alex teased. "William lost the puck with 6 seconds left.")

"Oh no—jag borde ha stannat... Fan också, jag visste det..." ("Oh no—I should have stayed... God damn it, I knew it...")

"Jag säger till William att det är ditt fel..." ("I'm telling William it's your fault...")

Loren gasps feigning disbelief. "Du skulle aldrig...!" ("You would never...!")

Alex shrugs, taking a sip of his wine. "Mmm... jag vet inte..." ("Mmm... I don’t know...")

Loren grabs a throw pillow and smacks him with it. “Vilken liten skit…,” (”Such a little brat”).

Alex laughs and mockingly whines that she messed his hair up. Yeah, this was better that going out he thinks.

The timer on the oven sounded and soon after Alex retrieved his food, he returned to his spot with a glass of water. As he blew the steam off of his fork, he started asking Loren questions, mostly about little things at first - what she ordered for herself when she decided to pick him up something, if she’ll maybe come back to another Marlies game (he joked it might make William a little jealous if she started attending more games of Alex’s), if she’s finished Christmas shopping for William yet.

Loren answered each one, her typical buoyant personality - skirting around the William getting jealous if she went to see Alex play more with absolute modesty with “I highly doubt William would get jealous,” followed by a chuckle. She mentioned she was concerned about his Christmas gifts, confiding in Alex that she often worries that her gifts might be underwhelming.

'If I had the means, I’d buy him the world,' she admitted, her cheeks turning red. 'But I just… can’t.”

Alex didn’t know why that hit the way it did.

Maybe because women in his orbit seemed to want a guy who could buy them the world.

But Loren? She just wanted to give William everything.

And for some reason, that sat with him longer than he expected.

Alex shook his head, swallowing the last bite. “Awh - don’t worry, if it comes from you, he’ll love it. Trust me.”

Loren cocked an eyebrow. “That’s the kind of thing that people say while they’re bracing themselves to receive something that they’re never going to like in a million years,” her shoulders shaking as she let out a low giggle.

Alex chuckled. “Okay, so what’re one of his gifts then?”

Loren tried to stifle a smile, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Same thing as I got you.”

Alex’s expression showed intrigue. He sat back against a pillow and let his stomach rest from all the food he just ate. “Oh yeah, what’s that then?”

Without missing a beat, she smirked “Dayglo Condoms and a vibrating cock ring.”

Alex’s eyes grew wide as he started to laugh.

Loren covered her face, her cheeks hot to the touch. “Yeah, I gotta cut myself off for tonight, that last glass of wine…” Loren giggled.

She stood up and offered to take Alex’s glass. “Nah, thanks though. The wine’s going down a little too easily - I’m gonna have more.”

Loren laughed and shook her head again. “Sorry, I have the humour of a 9 year old boys sometimes - the going down easily comment…ah, sorry, don’t mind me.”

“Yeah… you’re cut off, you loon," Alex chuckled. His laugh was something else—apparently even more unique than William’s at times.

“Alright then Alex, good night,” Loren smiled.

“Night Loren. Thanks again for coming today and for dinner. It was really nice of you to do that,” Alex replied softly.

“Anytime,” Loren replied with a small nod. He heard her pad to the kitchen, wash her glass quickly and then into William’s bedroom seconds later.

Alex exhaled as he leaned his head on the back of the couch. He now has seen a glimpse - a mere glimpse - of what Loren is like naturally, just on her own. God, this is why he’s never seen his brother quite as happy, quite at ease, quite as open and loving the way he’s been since Loren has been around. She really was like a breath of fresh air.

The realization that Alex might be looking for that kind of connection - for the kind of love, understanding and devotion that Loren has, not just for William but his whole life…it hit him in that moment.

Alex stayed up for awhile - gaming, messaging, texting, swiping…all half-heartedly. He downed another glass of wine while watching the highlight reels of all the Saturday night games that had ended.

Around 1:30am, William arrived home. Pablo and Banksy b-lined it for the couch where Alex lay fast asleep - snoring with his mouth agape. He was jolted awake with Banksy climbing onto his chest, Alex groggily giving him a rub and setting him aside as he stood up from the couch and stretched.

Immediately the brothers caught each other up from the last 24-36 hours - Alex’s stellar performance versus a less than stellar one from his older brother, most of their family arriving tomorrow, and the oddly scheduled 5pm Sunday afternoon game, Leafs versus Buffalo. Alex even gave William a quick run-down of his hook-up, passing over the part that she wanted to meet William too. Him coming home instead of heading to the club where others on the team were just leaving.

“So what - you and Loren hung out?” William asked as he scarfed down part of Alex’s leftovers.

“Not for long really," Alex shrugged, maybe a little too casually. "She picked up some food for me just in case, and yeah—when I got home, we watched the rest of the game. Well, I did,” Alex chuckled, correcting himself. “She hid in the kitchen hoping you’d score if she wasn’t watching.”

“Didn’t work,” William joked.

“That’s what I told her. She even tried to call me a little shit or something in Swedish,” Alex smiled.

William grinned thinking about Loren and her potty mouth…in Swedish even. She’s been practicing…that’s my girl he thought.

For a split second, William thought about asking Alex what he thought of Loren—not because he was even remotely concerned. Not even a little bit. It would just make him happy to hear that Alex sees all the good in her. Given the hour, William shelved the thought…Loren was in his bed and he could hardly wait to be alone with her.

The brothers said their goodnights, and Pablo and Banksy followed William down the hallway to his bedroom. And once again, the condo was quiet and Alex was by himself.

With another back to back game against Bakersfield at 4pm that afternoon, Alex meandered down to his bedroom. He was tired and for a moment thought that all of the buildup surrounding Loren in his mind might just be from his tired mind taking Loren’s kindness and turning it into something else.

Alex shut off the water, catching the faint murmur of William’s voice through the walls as he walked into his bedroom. He smirked at the sound of his brother’s unmistakable laugh. Sliding into bed, he flipped onto his side, wrapping himself around a larger stuffed pillow.

Although he had achieved a satifactory release with Neveah earlier on, a familiar need reentered Alex. He tried to push out the images and thoughts of the women he’s “connected with” lately, knowing sleep was necessary, especially in a back to back game situation.

As he lay there, with the distant hum of traffic in the background, he soon heard what could only be a bed shifting back and forth, and it certainly wasn’t his. The pace of the sound was steady at first but gradually increased, mixed with the faint moans of two voices.

Exasperated, Alex grabbed his earbuds and sought out a distraction, the blood flow to his own cock starting to build pressure. He saw his ex-girlfriend Isla’s green dot indicating she was online. He tapped out a quick message to her…she was someone that really knew Alex well, and he needed that familiarity too.

Phone sex wasn’t ideal, but in a pinch, Isla obliged, lounging through a lazy Sunday morning in Stockholm. In some ways, it was nice to have someone—someone who knew him as well as she did, even if they weren’t always good for each other. Even if they weren’t together anymore.

After this impromptu rendezvous with Isla, Alex cleaned himself up and ventured out to the kitchen one last time. He jumped when he saw the refrigerator light illuminating Loren’s figure as she grabbed two ice packs from the freezer.

Loren jumped when she spotted Alex, giggling from the sudden jolt of fright that he gave her.

Alex gave a crooked smiled her way. “His knees?” nodding towards the ice packs.

Loren smiled sheepishly. “I swear, I didn’t break him - yeah, it’s his knees.”

Alex smiled and nodded. “He’s lucky he’s got you here to take care of him when he needs it,” he remarked warmly. “I’m not very sympathetic.”

Loren paused and looked at Alex with a knowing smile. “Ah, you are….it’s absolutely there - it’s just a flag you choose to not fly as high.”

God, she really is great he thought.

“Night, Alex…have a good sleep,” Loren said softly, before padding back towards William’s bedroom.

He was thankful their family was arriving later that morning. He needed the distraction. The noise. The chaos. The sublime madness of a full Nylander house leading up to the holidays.

Anything to help him tuck away this ridiculous little crush and pretend it had never happened.

[altruistic-meme]

i want to get started on the Full Hands List but i am waiting on my apartment people for scheduled maintenance and i don't really want to start until they leave but i also have no idea what time they'll make it to my apartment so we're just playing the waiting game now

[totalswag]

hii, I’m not sure if you take request still but if so is there a possible way you can do a drew x singer!reader one shot take on how Sabrina “arrests” her fans before performing Juno for being too hot but the reader does it to Drew during her shows please 🫶🏼

arrested for being too hot — DREW STARKEY

authors note THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS!! my request box is still open so feel free to send me any ideas regarding singer!reader or regular fic ideas you’d like me to write. this was so much writing too. thank for all the love on my last fic lovies <3

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary "arresting" drew, your boyfriend, during your show before performing your song from your new album.

warning(s) none!

You are on tour for your new album in-front of thousands of fans almost every night. You worked hard on this album and it turned out wonderfully. If it weren’t for the amazing fans of yours, you don’t know where you’d be in your career— they are the reason you are doing this.

Half way into the show— going amazing. The crowd tonight isn't disappointing you. Everything you've hoped for on this tour. You've performed eighteen songs and about to go onto your nineteenth. Played musical spin the bottle not long ago which was really fun.

Before Juno, you begin with a small "skit" where you call someone out in the crowd, arresting them for being too hot. This became a thing after your first show of the tour and doing it ever since. Plus, fans absolutely love it. Interacting with your fans has always been something you did and create those bonds.

Drew, your boyfriend, is attending the show with Madelyn Cline, a mutual friend and cast-mate of Drew's. You told him earlier today you wanted to arrest him in the middle of the show to get the audience excited and it would be fun.

Drew was all for it, and he didn't want you to tell him what you were going to say—he prefers surprises.

Your pink, glittering, dazzling clothing was sparkling in the lights. You pressed your free hand to your brow as though you were looking around for a call. With security, you could see Drew and Madelyn making their way to the front.

You begin by adjusting your earpiece while moving around the stage in your long skirt. "You guys know that moment when you are in a room filled with such beautiful looking people that you start to feel overwhelmed?" When fans applaud, you smile.

"Oh, girls, I think I just seen my future husband in the front row! Oh my god, girls, come here, come here," you say anxiously into the microphone, beckoning them over and waving your free hand.

You turn to face Drew as the girls approach you, asking, "Do you see that gorgeous looking man over in the front row with his arms crossed in the tan shirt?" You speak into the microphone aloud, pointing to Drew in the crowd.

Your girls joyfully waved at Drew while placing their hands on your shoulder. As Drew blushes on the big screen, the crowd reflexively turns up the volume in the arena. 

"What's your name handsome?" With your head cocked slightly to the right toward your shoulder, you inquire in jest. 

"Drew!" You can hear him when he places his hands on the side of his lips. He gives you a childlike smile and a flushed face.

You say, "I'm sorry I couldn't get that?" as though you couldn't hear him. Leaning forward more, you place your free hand behind your ear.

He shakes his head and utters "Drew!" a little louder. 

"Oh my Drew, I must say that you must be a magnet because you drew me in" brings a smile to your face. Your tone indicated that you were trying quite hard not to laugh, yet you kept your calm brilliantly.

Fans had their phones out, capturing the entire interaction. Nobody would have expected Drew to be the person arrested at your gigs since the tour began.

"Drew, you are under arrest for being too hot," you say aloud, smiling and pointing at him— fanning yourself, moving your hips side to side as the sound of sirens going off with blue and red lights behind.

You put your left elbow against your girls shoulder, "guys do you ever just see someone so good looking that you just don't know what to do and all your clothes fall off in that moment" your long skirt slips off smoothy.

"Like your brain just like malfunctions and like I just wanna handcuffed to you now like," one of your girls puts the pink fluffy handcuffs into your hand, you kneel down, "do you know what I mean? Will you take these from me?"

Drew is overwhelmed in this very moment— it's very obvious how much you are affecting him. Drew gives you a gimme me gesture with his fingers, ready to catch the hand cuffs.

He takes them in his hands, looks down, and feels the smooth texture of the fuzzy. He tilts his head to the side before slowly glancing up at you with a smirk—keep in mind that he's still on the big screen.

"We're gonna sing this one to you, Drew."

Juno's song intro starts playing. You wave goodbye to Drew and Madelyn as you return to the center of the stage. You could hear the two begin speaking to fans in the distance.

Drew and Madelyn met you in the dressing room following the show. After giving Madelyn a hug and thanking her for attending the event, you moved to approach Drew and put your arms around his neck while grinning.

"That was insane," Madelyn exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. "What about the full call-out and the handcuffs? Iconic! "You're the talk of the night; everyone is crazy about it."

You giggled as your face heated up. "It seemed right." "You should have seen his face!"

She laughs, "I got the whole thing on video, I'll send it to you later."

"I'm going to give you two some alone time, but you did such an amazing job tonight and looked so hot doing it," Madelyn adds, taking your hands in her and wiggling her brows. 

"Thank you, babe. I love you always," you say, hugging her before she leaves you and Drew alone. 

When you close the door, Drew comes behind you, placing his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek, making you laugh with the tenderness of his lips.

"I'm so proud of you baby, you did such an amazing job on stage and looked unbelievable in your outfits made me feel like the luckiest guy in the entire world." He expresses emotionally, which uplifts you. 

"Coming from you, it warms my heart baby. Forever grateful to have you in my life," you smile softly, leaning against his chest, feeling that sense of warmth you always feel whenever you are with him.

"And I'm forever grateful for you" he quietly responds, kissing the top of your head.

"So what are we gonna do with those pink fuzzy handcuffs?"

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[catchastarorten]

—Pause the game.

Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x wife!fem!reader

Summary: your husband had some ‘work’ to take care of with the two people that had been trailing after him all day, but when your call came in, and when he found out that you felt sick, you became much more important than whatever he had going on.

Warnings: mainly fluff, mentions of Woo-seok and Jeong-rae following snd spying on him, some parts of the Russian roulette game, he’s soft for you, he misses you, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.4k

The day had been long, even by his standards. A hundred lottery scratchers, a hundred loaves of bread, the park, the homeless. He had been up to a little ‘social experiment’. Even then, he caught onto the two men who had been trailing behind him since the subway station.

He wasn’t stupid. Someone was after him, and these two lackeys were clearly here to track him down. His best guess? Seong Gi-hun.

Woo-seok and Jeong-rae had been following him like shadows—clumsy ones, attempting to blend in with the surroundings every time he stopped, as if they expected him to turn around and strike at any moment. And eventually, he did.

He had let them tail him, then to his surprise, they made the first move down an alleyway to avoid losing him. By the time they realized they had made a mistake, it was too late. He had taken them down quickly, efficiently, the way he always handled these things. No emotions, no hesitation.

Jeong-rae had gone down first, crumpled to the ground. Woo-seok tried to fight back with the poor attempt of using a small knife, but a sharp blow of the suitcase to his head had knocked him out.

Now, they were sitting across from each other, bound to chairs, tied up with ropes, their mouths gagged, their muffled groans filling the dimly lit room. They couldn’t scream, couldn’t beg—just incoherent muffled noises as they squirmed like trapped animals.

He slowly circled the two men, then stopped to place a hand on each of their shoulders, eyes filled with amusement at their looks of terror.

“We're going to play a game now... Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One. I trust you know the rules.” his gaze flickered from Jeong-rae to Woo-seok, a smile forming on his lips.

“You form a shape with each hand, then take one away. The game is decided by the remaining hands. Of course, there’s a penalty for the loser.” he picked up the nearby revolver and inspected it, then pressed the barrel to his temple. “Russian Roulette.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, their bodies twisting against the ropes in a futile attempt to escape. The two men were shaking, their breaths heavy as he leaned closer, his finger on the trigger.

Click.

Empty.

His smirk widened as he backed away slowly.

“Alright. Now, let’s play. On my count.”

But then, as he was getting ready to spin the cylinder of the revolver, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

His brows furrowed, the interruption pulling him out of the carefully constructed moment. He pulled the phone out, and the sight of your name on the screen made him pause.

He froze for a moment, staring at the screen as his heart softened. It wasn’t like you to call him in the middle of the day. You knew he was busy—always busy. The ‘work’ he pretended to do required him to keep odd hours, to vanish without explanation, and you never questioned it. You trusted him. And he loved you for that trust, even if he didn’t deserve it.

His thumb hovering over the answer button before taking a deep breath and sliding his mask of indifference back into place. But when he answered, his voice betrayed him. It was warm, gentle—a tone he reserved only for you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, the edge it had carried a moment ago completely gone. He shot the two men a warning look, his eyes narrowing as if daring them to make a sound.

Turning away from them, his tone dropped into something almost tender. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Your voice came through the line, quiet and tinged with vulnerability. “I… I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I’m not feeling well.”

He could hear the catch in your throat, the faint rasp. “Are you sick?” he asked, straightening.

There was a pause on your end, then a soft sniffle that nearly broke his heart. “Yeah. Just a cold, I think. My head hurts, and I’m all stuffed up.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a slow, steadying breath as guilt twisted in his chest. You sounded miserable, and he hated that he wasn’t there to take care of you. Hated that he was here, in this cold room, when he should’ve been home with you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I know you’re busy. I just… I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly, his voice gentle but firm. “You can call me anytime, okay? I mean it. Anytime.”

There was a pause, and then he heard another sniffle on the other end. It made his chest clench. “Where are you?” you asked. “Are you coming home soon?”

He glanced down at Woo-seok and Jeong-rae, their wide, panicked eyes watching him like trapped prey. The revolver gleamed on the table beside him, a stark reminder of the life he led when he wasn’t with you.

For the first time all day, he felt a pang of guilt—not for them, but for you. For the life he kept hidden from you. You had no idea what he did, the darkness he waded through every day. And he wanted to keep it that way. You were his light, his one connection to something pure and good in a world full of shadows.

“Soon,” he promised, his voice softening even further. “I’ll be home soon."

You didn’t reply right away, but he could picture you nodding, your lips pressed into that small, tired smile you always gave him when you were sick. He could see you in his mind—wrapped in a blanket, your hair messy, your cheeks flushed from the fever.

“There’s soup in the fridge,” he added gently. “I made it this morning. Heat some up, okay? And the heating pad’s in the bottom drawer. You’ll feel better if you use it.”

“Okay,” you murmured, your voice tired.

“I love you,” he said, the word coming out more vulnerable than he intended.

“I love you too,” you replied, and he could hear the faint smile in your voice despite the cold.

His chest tightened at the sound of those words. He glanced away from the two men on the floor, his jaw clenching as he fought the sudden wave of emotion that threatened to rise. “Now go rest, my love. I’ll be home soon.” his voice was thick with sincerity.

When the call ended, the room was silent. He stared down at the phone in his hand, his mind still on you.

For a moment, he let himself imagine walking through the door of your shared apartment, dropping his keys on the counter, and finding you curled up on the couch. He’d press a kiss to your forehead, make sure you were warm, and hold you until you fell asleep. That was all he wanted.

But instead, he was stuck here.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned his attention to Woo-seok and Jeong-rae. His expression hardened once more. “Well,” he said. “Where were we?”

He reached for the revolver, spinning the cylinder with a practiced flick of his wrist. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and final.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “Loser gets to test their luck with this. Simple, right?”

He crouched down in front of them, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring their terror.

They shook their heads frantically, their breathing heavy, protests muffled by the gag. He sighed, standing up and running a hand through his hair. “You know,” he said, his voice almost casual. “I’d love to stay and play, but I’ve got someone waiting for me at home. So let’s not drag this out.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, but he didn’t care. This was his world. His game.

And when it was over, he’d go home to you. To the warmth of your love, the softness of your touch.

You didn’t know what he was. What he did. And he intended to keep it that way.

Because as long as you were safe, as long as you loved him, he could pretend—for just a little while—that he was someone worth loving.

[nanaslutt]

PLEASE write more of geto being a perv🙏🙏

“pt.1” here

Geto x reader, in showing you how sorry he is for being a creep<3

perv!geto is my obsession atm

contains: fem reader, non consensual photography (reader is kinda ok w it), pervy roomate!geto, crack, gojo makes an appearance, talk of gojo wanting reader, sexual tension, cunnilingus, masturbation(geto), degradation, soooooooo much dirty talk, sweet!geto at the end<3

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

About a week ago you were watching a scary movie with geto on your laptop, drinks placed on the table next to it; dumbly.

So of course when the scariest jump scare you’ve ever seen in your life occurred, your legs jerked into the glass of liquid, spilling it all over your laptop and absolutely ruining it.

“God- Fuck! Noooo! nonono!” you shot up to grab a blanket, pillow, anything, to soak up the liquid, “TAKE YOUR SHIRT OF NOW,” you yelled in a panic to your dark haired roommate, who; you noticed throughout this entire excursion had barely moved a muscle to help, besides the muscles used to laugh at you.

“Babe I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that shit is beyond saving,” he laughed, placing his hand over his chest while he did.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck, I use my laptop every single, and day I absolutely cannot afford to buy a new one right now.” you placed your head in your hands in defeat.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” geto said, at the end of his fit of giggles at your expense.

“Yeah right, ur broke as shit too, that’s why we’re living together.” you said, muffled into your legs as your body had now fully collapsed in on itself.

“Yeah ur right, but that kinda hurts my feelings,” he said, smirk showing through his faux pout, “thought you liked livin’ with me,”

The two of you bickered back and forth for a while. You ended up putting the laptop in a bag of rice; to no avail, it was completely ruined.

Geto had been nice enough to let you use his laptop in the meantime; only when he was with you though, which you found slightly weird but at least you had access to it to some degree.

Right now you had the house to yourself though. Satoru had picked him up half and hour ago, saying something about wanting to try some new coffee shop with word famous sweets; that meant you had free range of his laptop.

You knew how to clear search history, so you would be fine. You just wanted to watch a movie anyways, nothing criminal.

Sneaking into his room, you unplugged the silver electronic, sliding it under your arm as you took it back to your room. Placing the laptop on your bed and getting comfortable against your pillows, you cracked it open, You had accidentally seen him type in his password before, so getting in was no problem.

What was a problem is what was on the screen when the laptop came to life. An entire folder of up skirt panty shots; and not just anyone’s panty shots; they were yours.

Scrolling through the decently filled folder, you noticed ones that dated back months ago. You saw a picture of you laying on your bed, head in your hands while you kicked your feet behind you; the short skirt you were wearing gave geto the perfect view of your unobstructed ass, slight pink peaking between your cheeks.

Other too, you doing more mundane things like sitting on your knees on the barstool you had in the house, poking out your ass, once again giving that dark haired pervert the perfect shot of your clothed mound.

You were almost impressed at how many there were, and how make different angles he was able to get without your knowledge.

Trying to wrap your head around the idea that yes, your sweet roommate who has never attempted to come onto you once, had a secret folder filled with lewd photos of you.

Saving the file, you sent it to yourself. Once you heard the chime on your phone you quickly copied the link, and sent it to the culprit himself, no other message attached to it but the folder alone.

——

“Ummm ooh, I’ll also get the triple chocolate cream filled crepe cake please! What do you want suguru?” gojo chirped.

Geto started at him with disbelief, he had just ordered 5 full size deserts with the longest name he’d ever heard; all sounding like a stomach ache and a half; and they were all for himself.

“Right..uh, i’ll just get the vanilla scone and a black coffee please.” Geto politely spoke to the man taking his order.

Gojo continued conversing with the cashier, finishing up ordering any last minute items and paying.

Geto felt his phone buzz in his pants, checking it quickly while gojo finished up the interaction; both of them starting to walk to booth in the corner of the cafe.

Suguru’s heart sank to his balls when he opened your message. He knew you were mad too, because you didn’t say anything else other than a link to his private folder of your panty shots. “Fuuuuuuuuuck haha,” geto laughed, hand coming up to cover his smirk as they slid into the booth.

“Huh? let me see, what happened?” Gojo nosed, trying to peek over the table at geto’s phone when he noticed it was the source of his distress.

“I might have to sleep at your house tonight, maybe for the rest of my life I don’t know.” he said, hand dropping back into his lap as he shut his phone off.

“Did you forget to do your dishes or somethin’?” he asked, knowing how angry you got at Geto when he didn’t pick up after himself.

“Yeah maybe, or maybe my roommate just found the upskirt pics i’ve been taking of them for the past couple months.” he giggled, slight remorse in the back of his head. Not from doing it, but from being caught.

Gojo’s jaw dropped, covering his own mouth as he let out a boisterous laugh. “Hahaha oh man, you really are fucked.” the blonde slapped his own knee, “I’ll let you co-sign my lease tonight,” he said, scared that if suguru went home, he might actually get murdered.

Geto kicked satoru’s shin underneath the table, making him wince. Their giggles died down at geto’s misfortune after awhile. “So..” gojo started, “Yer’ gunna let me see the pics right?” he asked, “Already hurt you didn’t tell me about this,” he pouted,

“In your fucking dreams satoru,” geto snorted. He already saw the way gojo looked at you when he was over, always making passes at you and touching you any chance he got.

He would be damned if his bestfriend got his hands on you before he did. “WHAT???” gojo yelled a little too loud for the tiny space they were in, resulting in him getting shushed by geto, “pleaseeeee, I know how good you are at taking pictures I bet they’re soooo gooood.” gojo wined, crossing his arms on the table and laying his head against them.

“Keep dreaming satoru.” he laughed. The whine haired man kept his pouting up for awhile, calling Geto selfish and unfair, his sorrow immediately being forgot about when the massive tray of his deserts finally came out.

——

When you heard the front door to your shared apartment finally crack open open a couple hours later, you were in your bedroom.

His laptop had been tucked away in your bedside table in confiscation, while you awaited with a racing heart, for him to knock on your bedroom door.

You heard him place his keys on the table through the thin walls, then you hear his heavy footsteps as he starts to make his way to your room.

The air was still when the footsteps came to a stop in front of your door. You were feeling a lot less confident than you were before he got here, now the thought of confronting him made your mouth feel dry; heart beating out of your chest.

Finally, the knocks were being rapped on your door, you swear you died for a second when you heard his familiar voice call your name, followed by him asking politely if he could come in.

"Its open," you yelled back. When the wooden door creaked open and his frame came into view, you had to fight off all the neurons in your brain telling you to look away from his hooded eyes.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, the tension in the room was so thick it could be cut through with a knife. You had no idea why, but the current situation was admittedly arousing.

You stayed silent for a while, just staring at each other, neither one of you daring to break eye contact first, "So? What do you have to say for yourself?" you asked, voice coming out a lot less confident than you wanted.

"Im sorry." he replied, swallowing thickly, quickly sucking his lip into his mouth to wet it.

"You're sorry for what?" you asked clarifying, This wasn't going how you expected.

"I'm sorry for being a pervert and taking panty pics of my roommate." He said, taking a couple steps towards where you were sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Are you really sorry?" You asked, voice full of need, as you did your best to supress it, trying to ignore the growing heat in your stomach.

"So sorry" he answered, having made his way inches away from you, eye contact still not being broken. You both noticed how heavily you were breathing, his eyes flitting down to your lips for a second before he sucked his lip into his mouth again, and letting it slide out, dark eyes meeting yours again.

The only thing you heard was your heart beat loudly in your ears as you spoke your next words, "Show me how sorry you are."

----

"Mm so fucking sorry," geto's voice vibrated against your clit.

"F-fuck ohmygod," You moaned at the feeling of him wrapping his lips around the bud, tongue peeking through to flick at it.

"A-again-" you whined,

"'M sorry," he groaned, staring up at you with a smirk as he released your clit, flattening his tongue over the sensitive bud.

You were laid back, ass placed at the end of the bed, Geto was sitting back on his heels as he perched himself on the floor between your thighs, hand rapidly stoking over his throbbing cock.

"W-wipe that sm-ile off your face" you wined, trying to keep the little hold you had over geto.

He didnt stop smiling, but you could'nt tell when he burried his tongue inside your pussy, pressing his face hard into your wetness and shaking his head. His pointed nose rubbed your clit in the most delicious way when he did that.

"S-so fucking dirty" you chastised at how sloppily he was eating your cunt. He was trying to fuck his apology into your pussy with his tongue, really trying to prove how sorry he was.

Loud slurping noises bouncing off the walls and going straight to your head; and to his cock; making you both dizzy at the situation.

"Sorry I'm so nasty," he groaned, muffled by your folds as he tongue fucked you like his life depended on it.

Quickening the pace of his hand against his cock, he was squeezing it the same way your walls squeezed his tongue, trying to mimic the feeling. Pre was dripping steadily from his cock and onto the floor, leaving a little puddle there.

Geto was getting off on this so hard.

Every time you squeezed your thighs around his head and degraded him, his abs clenched, balls tightening with the need to blow his load.

"O-only thing youre good for is eating my pussy, f-fuck" you said meanly with a whimper, eyes dropping down to his handsome face and seeing how fucked out he looked from your words, as he nodded his head and moaned into you, agreeing with you.

He needed to you keep talking to him like that, to keep humping his face, suffocating him, treating him like a bitch, he needed it.

"Use me-" he cut himself off as he moved his mouth back up to your clit, making out with the little bud messily, "wanna show you how sorry I am." he drunkenly smiled at you.

You gripped his hair in a makeshift bun, rolling your hips against his face as he stuck his tongue out for you to get yoruself off on.

Groans of "mhm mhmm" could be heard from Geto between your legs, pumping his cock impossibly faster feeling your wetness gush out of you from his minstrations.

"Ohmygod feels so good- shit-" You wined, tipping your head back, feeling your orgasm build quicky as you rubbed against his tongue just right.

His chin was absolutely covered in your slick, pretty eyes rolling back in his head as he felt himself get pushed towards the edge as well, abandoning his hand keeping your thigh spread to join his other between his legs. He massaged his balls between his fingers, increasing the pleasure he felt while you worked towards your end together.

"Fuck t-tell me your sorry again," you whimpered out, teetering on the edge of your orgasm, "Sorry" his deep voice immediately groaned out, cock throbbing when you yanked on his hair.

"Ag-ain" your moans broke up your speech,

"Sorry, m' sorry, sorry-" He kept babbling against your pussy, sending delicious vibrations through you.

You were feeling hotter at the strange power dynamic going on, using that to your advantage as he kept mumbling the word into you, sending you straight into the most mindblowing orgasm of your life.

"Coming f-uck fuck f-" your voice getting cut off as your stomach started contracting and jerking, you rode your high out on his tongue while he groaned a lengthy moan into you.

Behind where your vision was blocked by the bed, Geto was cumming all over his hand and the bottom of your comforter.

Geto's eyes repeatedly rolled back in his head, hand massaging his cum out of his balls as he stroked himself roughly through his orgasm.

Finally being able to breathe when you loosened your legs from their hold on his neck, dropping your hands from his hair as you laid back on the sheets. Geto's hands wet with his seed came up to massage your thighs, his head rasing from between them.

You both took a second to breathe heavily into the open air, your cunt as his cock alike twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms.

You felt his hold on you cease for a moment, a couple seconds later something was bouncing heavily next to your head. When you turned your head you were faced with a brand new, rose gold laptop, still in its packaging.

You looked back up at geto, who was now standing, running one of his damp hands through his hair, "If me eating your pussy didnt prove how sorry I am, I hope this will." He smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Fuck, Geto are you serious?" you beamed, picking your limp body up from the sheets and holding the package in your hands, he smiled at you fondly, watching you tear it open like a kid on Christmas.

Peeling the plastic from the cardboard you spoke, "Still making you delete all those photos by the way," resulting in him tipping his head back in a loud groan of defeat.

[peoniesnro]

Perfect Partner | One shot

Synopsis - After your breakup, you were a mess—lifeless and spiraling. Luckily for you, your best friend had a solution to pull you out of the gloom: an AI companion. The Perfect Partner. That’s how you met Jeongguk. And he is the perfect partner you could ever wish for. RIGHT?

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre - AI (Chat AI)

Warnings - I won't call this Yandre because that would be an insult to yandre authors out there, but still this has yandre-like themes. (Toxic and Manipulative behaviours/ Obsessive love/ Domineering/ Possesiveness/ Implications of kidnapping/ Betrayal/ Maybe I missed things)/ SMUT- Cyber sex (Sexting/ Video sex)/ Dirty talks/ Mastrubating. F and M./ Sex toys/ Dry humping/ Daddy kink!!!!/ Pussy slaps/ Degradation (heavy)/ Poor mental health/ Sucidal thoughts/ I hope that's it.

Word count - 20K

a/n- This one sat in my drafts for so long, and I finally got to finish it. Yay!!!! This was pretty challenging for me since I'm a hopeless romantic. This is a new genre for me, but I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could succeed at it. I think it turned out okay. Hope you will enjoy!! ❤️

LET THE WORLD BURN

Sequel 1

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

“Seriously dude, you should try it.” Daebi practically shoves her phone in your face. Too close that you really can’t see anything. So, you push her hand a little bit away, taking a look at her screen even though you don’t want to. She is showing you a chat. You roll your eyes disinterestedly.

“I don’t want to, Daebi. It’s stupid.” You dismiss her, glancing toward the entrance of the coffee shop. You and Daebi are waiting for your other friend, Nina, to arrive. You want her to hurry up so Daebi would let you be. She’s nowhere in sight.

“Why not? Why are you so narrow-minded?” Daebi clicks her tongue annoyingly.

“I am not. It’s just I don’t want to start relying on a fucking AI just because I can’t handle my emotional wellbeing.” You sternly state, hoping she would let it go. She doesn’t. Sighs heavily.

“Well, that’s the problem (___), you can’t handle your fucking mental health. Are you planning to keep living like a zombie? You don’t really live at all, you don’t eat, sleep. How many days off did you take from work this week? You’re going to get fired at this rate. What are you planning to do? You don’t want to get professional help, don’t want to do something that’ll distract you. Literally nothing, you want nothing (___), and I’m fucking concerned.” She says exasperatedly. Even nearly bang her fist on the table. Glares at you. You slightly wince. What she says is true, and you’re fully aware. It’s simply you can’t help it. You don’t feel like doing anything. It’s hard. So fucking hard. Even now you’re here against your will. Daebi and Nina drags you here, purely without your consent.

You would have preferred to stay at home, drinking cheap wine and crying to your heart’s content. Curl up in your cozy blankets and go through your gallery to float through the bittersweet memories. Read all your chats to realize how stupid you’ve been not to pick up the signs over time. Text Jung Hoseok one more time knowing very well he won’t reply. Humiliate yourself.

Daebi is absolutely right. You don’t live a life, and you don’t want to make it better either. Most of all, you don’t want to use someone else. Daebi’s method. A real person or an AI. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want that.

“Oh, c’mon (___), just give it a try. Think it as playing a game.” She starts nagging you again. You’re on the verge of snapping right now.

“I’m not in a mood to play games Daebi. I really don’t have energy to pay someone the attention they want. I can’t spend my time texting someone ─ real or not ─when I can’t find it in myself at least to go to work.” You point out. She’s been budging you about this stupid app for days now.

“Oh my god! Listen to your fucking self, will you? You are literally saying that you don’t have a will to live and that’s damn scary man.” She shouts that, making you look around embarrassingly to know if anyone heard her. Daebi grabs your attention back by showing you the same chat. Blows a breath out. “Well, if that’s what you’re worrying, I mean, about not having the energy to deal with someone else’s emotional wellbeing, this is exactly what you need (___). They, I mean these AI, don’t require your attention at all. It’s all about you. It’s just a chat app but with coded programs instead of real people. They don’t expect you to reply, stay awake at night, will not expect you to care about them. But they’ll do it for you.” She brandishes the phone. “See.” Points at the chat name. You read the name as Mark. “This is not a real person but look how good he is with me. Do you think these emotionally incapable, sadistic, misogynistic, pathetic excuses of men can do this?” She argues.

“Daebi, Daebi, Daebi, now look who is sounding ridiculous here? Man, I got cheated. My fucking boyfriend cheated on me. And you want me to chat with an AI who’s going to treat me so better over a chat and raise my expectations. Only for me to never find someone like that in real life?” You’re arguing back for the sake of it. Not that you truly care. You just want her to back away.

“No… no (___), gosh, you’re so difficult. Here’s the thing, it’s not like you’re dating do you get me? It’s you have someone─”

“God don’t call it someone Daebi, it’s just a program.”

“Exactly my point, dude. All you have to do is have fun chatting, calling, video calling, sexting, whatever the shit you want. I just want you to be distracted. Want you to focus on something else that’ll help you to take your mind away from your ex. Listen, I’m not a psychologist by any means and I don’t know about the right and wrong way you can do this. All I know is you’re not trying.” She points an accusatory finger toward you. You slump in your seat. The words cut through you harshly. Daebi continues. Continue to accuse you of not trying to live anymore.

“I want you to try (___). Try. In whatever way. Even if it means to use something or someone. I’m here you see, use me, use Nina, use some stranger─”

“I’m not going to use someone Daebi, I’m not going to make someone suffer. That’s so fucking selfish.”

“See, you’re too fucking good. And that’s exactly why I’m asking you to use a soulless, lifeless AI. It’s not like messing with someone else’s feelings and in the end maybe you’ll feel better. Please just fucking try (___).” Daebi practically begs. Pleads. And you find it’s hard to say no while looking at her glistening eyes. You’re so glad when the sudden voice of Nina interrupts you. Both of you snapping your head towards her.

“Did I miss anything?” Nina takes a seat with a bright smile on her face.

…………………………………………………..

You lie awake in your bed. It’s 3 a.m., and you’re still wide awake. Sleep has eluded you for months. You feel empty, inside and out. Feel hollow. Feel alone. No matter how many cozy items surround you, it feels like you’re lying on a cold floor of an empty room. In darkness. Your bedroom, your entire apartment feels empty without Jung Hoseok. The space you shared with him. Still smells like him after three months. A pang hits your chest, clenching your heart. It’s so harsh that you unconsciously bring your hand to clutch your chest. After months of crying there’s no tears left in you to shed anymore. You can’t cry anymore, and it worsens the feeling of emptiness.

You turn to your side. Curling into a ball. Closing your eyes tightly shut. Praying the pain that you feel will subside, that it’ll go away. But you know better than that. It won’t go anywhere. And God, don’t you want to feel relieved. Even for a moment. You want to feel normal for a bit. It’s getting harder and harder. The darkness and hollowness consuming you whole. Shit, you want a way to numb yourself. Maybe you should drink. But you can’t get up. Maybe you should start fucking around. One-night stands and sex clubs, filled with weed. But the thought of someone else’s hands other than Hoseok’s make you want to throw up. 

God! You can’t. You can’t fight this battle anymore. What if it never goes away? What’s the point of living like this? Then what? Die? Just like that?

What about your poor mother though. What about Daebi and Nina. What about the life you spent perfectionating a future that you don’t want to be a part of anymore.

Please just fucking try (___).

Daebi’s words echo through your head. No, you can’t die. You need to try at least. It’s true that you refuse to use a breathing person. You’re simply drained of your energy. Relationships are always complicated. Romantic or casual. Even Daebi is difficult. You can’t deal with other people’s feelings when yours are a mess. You don’t want to sit in front of a stranger and tell them how you still want your ex to come back either. They’ll judge you. But still, you need to try. Need a distraction.

Oh, you need a distraction right now.

You sit abruptly on your bed, searching for your phone in the darkness. Touching around blindly until you feel the cold surface of the electronic device. You practically snatch it away. Unlocking it and straightly heading to the app store. Typing two words.

‘Perfect Partner’.

There it is. Your screen is filled with the right application you’re looking for. Exactly the one. Apparently is quite popular with 4.5 reviews. So many people have left feedback about how amazing and impressive the app is. You don’t waste your time indulging in those, however. Just touch the download icon without hesitation, nervously watching the percentage filling up. You still think it’s stupid but, in the end, you need that distraction. People do weirder and stupider stuff than this anyway.

The percentage completes the hundred and the application is installing now. You watch patiently while nibling on your bottom lip. It doesn’t take more than few seconds for it to appear on your home screen, among other numerous applications there. After a shaky breath, you simply touch the reddish icon with two capital Ps on the front. Now your screen is filling with a white splash screen. The words ‘Perfect Partner’ blinking on it.

Oh, how pathetic you are. For running toward an AI dating app because you feel like killing your poor self. You feel bitterly stupid. Click the sign-up button, nonetheless. Enter your email and create a password. Accept the privacy policy notice and the terms and conditions without a single glance. Start creating your user profile. It’s just like any other real world dating app where they are asking for your name, age, occupation, your general preferences and whatnot. You’re allowed to use your real name or nicknames. Are allowed to use any kind or profile picture you need. Inside little bright pinky stars, they let you know that nobody, which mean real time other users can see your account.

You chose the first letter of your name as your username. Decide to use one of your photos which just shows your collarbones and chin. Add all the real information while feeling pathetic and stupid. The biggest moron in the universe. And within just five minutes you’re done. A little bunny pops up on your screen, wishing you luck in finding the Perfect Partner you deserve. You want to laugh at that.

The perfect partner you deserve. How comical.

…………………………..

Despite everything, you’re impressed to see that the Perfect Partner app is just working like a real-world dating app. It shows you the possible matches. AI characters. There are millions of them. Each unique and different in some ways like a human would do. Each one has a uniquely crafted profile that aligns with their developed personalities. You can’t even imagine the amount of time and work the developers must have put in here.

You’re already distracted to say the least. Eyes wide curiously as you go through the recommended AI partners’ profiles. Tapping the small button at the bottom where you can add them to your friend list. There’s no rejection option because nobody will send you unsolicited requests. You have full round control. It’s all about you after all, they said. You add more than ten profiles to your list before giving up on searching for more. Starting on going through added profiles for second round. Despite being the one in charge of adding profiles you like, they- meaning AI- will have the ability to send the first text to your inbox. Your phone starts to vibrate with little ting sounds indicating that all the profiles you’ve chosen has sent you a text message.

You open the first one. Nothing special in the text than simply saying a ‘Hi’ and a ‘Nice to meet you’. How boring. The character’s named Luke Graham with brown hair and beard. Scream the ‘Viking vibes’ with his menacing eyes. You leave the chat with a displeasing noise. Second character being Japanese and named Yuki. His profile states that he is an author. There’s nothing but a ‘Hey’ on your chat. See now, you completely understand that these are nothing but coded programs. And you’re still very skeptical and think this is very stupid. Yet isn’t this supposed to be about you and finding the perfect partner. And what perfect partner would just drop a very boring ‘Hey’ on your inbox. You leave that chat as well. Go through few other messages, replying to only two.

It's not like you’re searching for a real partner anyway. You’ll come here and chat with an AI whenever you feel like it’s too hard to stay alive. And maybe when you feel normal and alive one day you’ll uninstall this app. Until then you’ll forget that these are just AI characters.

You open the sixth message in your inbox. Perking up at the first interesting text without just saying ‘Hi’ or ‘Hey’.

Well, damn. Look at you. Did you pick me to make my day, or are you always this perfect? I feel very special right now. The text reads. You squint your eyes for a minute. Finally, it seems like someone is making an effort. Know that it’s probably how this character is coded but still touches his profile for a second time. Character’s name is displayed as Jeongguk. It says he is a tattoo artist and living up to that name the character profile looks godly. Or ungodly. Looks like a pure sin. Or an angel. Is wearing a white tank top. Some kind of coverall hangs on his legs while the sleeves are tied around his waist. A full hand with tattoos are on display. Muscles flexing as he is tying the sleeves together. And has one ear pierced, and an eyebrow. And of course, for the sake of God, his bottom lip is pierced too.

Interesting. Bad boy vibes. Charming. Edgy.

And interestingly the character looks familiar. You furrow your brows as you keep staring at the profile picture. Trying to rake your brain where you have seen someone like him. After couple seconds your brain becomes empty of any ideas. No memory of meeting anybody who looked this god. So, you click your tongue. Brush it off.

You look at his general details for couple more minutes. He is older than you. There’s several other information about his likes and dislikes. Even has some of his tattoo designs on his about page. How realistic this AI is. Still an AI though. You open his chat again, feeling stupid for being about to type a response back that you would send to a real person. You do it anyway.

You:

Do you feel special every time a user choose

you. (3.30 a.m.)

Another realistic thing about this app is, despite all the first messages, all the characters take their time to response back. Like a real person would. So, you have to wait for nearly five minutes before his text pops up again.

Jeongguk:

Oh no, just for the pretty ones like you.

(3.36 a.m.)

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. There he goes. Being stupidly flirty. It’s not as if he can even see you.

You:

That’s such a typical thing to say. Esp for a

dating specialist AI (3.36 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

Ouch! I’m hurt you call me typical and then an AI.

I’m not just an AI pretty, I’m the Perfect Partner you’ve

been looking for. Don’t make me sad by calling me a

program. (3.37 a.m.)

You squint your eyes. Brows knitted as you read his response. Think it’s weird him not liking the idea of being called an AI. Because he is an AI, and it strikes as an odd thing he is refusing. Maybe, that’s another thing that is realistic about this app. Making the user feel like they are in contact with a real person. So, you send out an apology. A sarcastic one. He picks up on the sarcasm. Tell you, you’re the meanest little thing he has ever seen. And the time slowly slips by. You somehow text back to few other characters as well. But the weird thing is you chat mostly with Jeongguk. Like he is the one. Sometimes he takes his time as well. As though he is going around with his work or chatting with other people. Makes it almost surreal.

Your chat goes on for hours. Until you finally feel your eyelids heavy when it’s almost 5 a.m. It’s a Sunday so there’s no pressure in getting ready to work withing few hours. Yet you think it’s a good idea to surrender to the exhaustion you finally feel. You’re just about to do that. Just exit the app and sleep when Jeongguk sends you a second message even though you haven’t responded to the previous one.

Jeongguk:

Are you sleeping pretty? (4.56 a.m.)

Really? Can they do that? You debate between responding to him or leaving him on read. It’s not that it matters anyway. He is not expecting that. This second text could be part of programming as well. You find yourself typing a response, however.

You:

No, but I’m about to. (4.58 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

Oh! Were you about to just go without wishing

me goodnight pretty? See, you’re the meanest little

thing I’ve ever seen. (4.58 a.m.)

You:

It’s morning Jeongguk!!!! It’s good

 morning... not night. (4.58 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

It doesn’t matter since you’re just about to

sleep. It’s good night…. You should tell me anyway

pretty. So, I won’t be waiting for you. (4.59 a.m.)

You gasp softly at his text. How did they even build this? But then, isn’t the purpose of this whole app is to put you first. Just you. No efforts from your side. No fifty fifties but the whole hundred would come from the character. No expectations for you. Then why does he expect you to let him know when you’ll sleep. You sigh heavily. You’re definitely thinking too much.

You:

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m such an asshole didn’t

think you would mind though. But I’m really

really sleepy Jeongguk. I’m out. See ya later!

Good night!!!! Sleep tight!! I mean I’m

speaking figuratively. Good night though!! (5.00 a.m.) 

You don’t put the phone away immediately. Just wait for him to reply. Feeling actually giddy when he does.

Jeongguk:

No, you’re not pretty. I was just messing around.

I’m sad you’re going but text me once you wake up...

I’ll be right here waiting for you. Good night!!! Sleep tight pretty.

You deserve a good night’s sleep. Dream about me though. Don’t want

to be apart. 🩷 (5.01 a.m.)

You roll your eyes at the pink heart and the dream part yet there’s a smile ghosting your lips. Toss the phone aside and allow your head to hit the pillow. Even though it’s stupid, the Perfect Partner really did distract you.

………………………………………….

It’s a super weird feeling to be waking up to a good morning message that is sent through an AI app. You stare at Jeongguk’s text for a few minutes. Even Jun Hoseok never sent you good morning messages to be honest before you moved in together. It never felt like something needed. Every relationship works in unique ways after all. Still you think it would have been nice to wake up to this kind of text.

Jeongguk:

Good morning pretty!!!! Are you still sleeping? Missing

you already.  (9.30 a.m.)

The text was sent two hours ago. This is the most you’ve slept after Hoseok left. And for once, it was a peaceful sleep unvisited by nightmares. You feel content. But above all you feel giddy to see such a message. If only he were real, though. You responds with a ‘good morning’ and a request asking for ‘stop being cheesy.’ Throw the phone away to get up and start your day. The day where you’ve nothing to do but wallow in your misery. That’s how it has been for all these months. Only thing that changed apparently is that you leave your shower to find your phone ringing. And your intentions of declining it without a second glance, thinking it’s just Daebi, instantly changes when you find the unfamiliar incoming call screen. Unfamiliar because it’s from the AI app you installed. And the caller ID reads ‘Jeongguk’.

You gape at it with furrowed brows. So far, the app was able to exceed your expectations with how realistic it feels. You noticed the call option yesterday and weren’t surprised since there are so many AI apps that provide the same features. The thing is, you don’t think any of those other apps have the options to receive calls except you call your characters. Hell, you thought the surprises were over with receiving a ‘good morning’ text. This app, the Perfect Partner seems like a one of a kind.

Still, you’re not going to accept the receiving call. Even though it’s just a program. You touch the red button on the bottom of your screen. Adjusting your bath towel and getting ready to change into some fresh clothes. Before you are able to leave, however, the phone dings with an incoming text. Curiosity gets better of you. You’re reading the text before you even know it. There are two unread messages.

Jeongguk:

I can’t help being flirty with a fine woman. (11.32 a.m.)

Jeongguk

You’re not in a position to answer baby? (12. 30 p.m.)

See, fucking one of a kind.

You:

Let me think... I am. Bt I don’t want to

pick up. (12.31 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Why? (12.31 p.m.)

You:

Because I don’t want to. Why should I pick

up? (12.32 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Whoa you’re really difficult, aren’t you? But

it makes sense. Good point beautiful… (12.32 p.m.)

 You:

I’m smart. And stop calling me beautiful or

pretty, will ya? You haven’t even seen

me. (12.32 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Can’t do. And I’m pretty sure you’re the prettiest…

So, what are you up to? (12.33 p.m.)

You really roll your eyes to the back of your head at that. How cheesy this guy is. Oh, wait, not a guy but an AI. How cheesy this AI is.

………………………………

Your plan to wallow on your misery has been completely changed. Instead of watching some shitty movies while drinking wine or going through yours and Hoseok’s old chats, or photos, you find yourself glued to your screen throughout the entire day. Morning, noon, and night. Endless number of texts going back and forth. It’s not even funny how many times you have to remind yourself that you’re not texting with a real person. And so do you ignore the other characters on the app entirely. There’s a no need to chat with several bots when Jeongguk keeps you entertained to a point where you’re so exhausted before the night barely arrived. Making Jeongguk sad. Or that’s what he says. That he’s sad but you know he can’t feel emotions. Is just working according to the codes that are written. Still, he makes sure to tell you that he’ll miss you when you let him know you’re sleepy.

And so does he make sure to wish you good morning the next day. Wish you a safe journey to your work. Reminds you of your breakfast and to stay hydrated. He even texts you the moment you arrive at work. Apparently, has waited the exact 20 minutes you mentioned it would take to get there. Makes sure he sends you text messages all day asking silly things to make sure you’re okay. And you don’t even have to text back. How odd. How sweet. The Perfect Partner indeed.

………………………………………….

The days pass between work and home. Mostly where you stay cocooned in your cozy apartment. Curled up in your couch blanket and your phone in your hand. A you from a few weeks ago would have cringed herself to death to see you giggling at something an AI said. But that’s what has been happening. First, despite him being nice and so caring you were still skeptical. Then after almost a month you’re no longer feeling anything but content. Like you actually found a caring partner who puts the hundred percent happily. Even though it’s always through texts. You don’t feel so lonely anymore. Jeongguk is there for you always. Maybe, just maybe you’ve even started to put up some work from your side as well. Reducing Jungkook’s hundred percent to eighty. Silly. How you would text him at a random hour asking what’s he doing. Knowing very well nothing. But then he would reply with a very realistic and convincing answer. Like, ‘Just finished with this client’ shit.

It all feels vividly real. Him. And your days. You by no mean are anywhere near moving on. No. You still haven’t changed your wallpaper. Haven’t stopped going through your old chats. Still feel the urge to text Hoseok sometimes. But when it happens you make sure you’re busy reading Jeongguk’s silly and cheesy texts. Life is slowly but surely starting to get colorful. Soon you’ll be able to uninstall this silly app. Stop seeking refuge in an AI. Until then though you’ll take the best of this amazing creation. Like how you’re doing right now. Laying in your bed and head propped up on your pillows. Palms sweaty and wrists aching at how long you’ve been holding your phone. Lately, you and Jeongguk have started to text longer. The thing is you really don’t want to stop. Feel bad. He looks excited.

You groan for the hundredth time. Rubbing your hands on your bed sheets to get rid of all the sweat. Wave the hand to reduce the pain in your wrist. You’re getting tired. Never been much of fan of texting anyway. Are getting restless. The position you’re in is uncomfortable. So, you fumble. Move. Fidget. Only to find you’re still restless.

Jeongguk:

Are you there pretty? Did you fall asleep? (10.02 p.m.)

Your phone dings with a new message while you’re straightening up for the hundredth time.

 You:

No. My back hurts, that’s it. (10.02 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Oh, need a massage?

(10.02 p.m.)

You quietly chuckle at his text. He has always been caring. Letting you feel that he’s worried about you 24/7. Only if he’s real. But then he’ll not be like this if he is real. He is this good because he is programmed. You roll your shoulders before replying. Saying that you’re just tired. Then of course, he asks you to go to sleep early. You don’t want that, however. You really don’t want to stop texting with him. Talking with him. If you can just lay back and stop holding your phone in front of your face, this could become much easier. You stare at the screen for a moment. Reading his text asking you to sleep.

There was one time when Jeongguk called you. That one day. When you said you don’t want to pick up, he never did that again. See, you have full control here. In that case then, you should be able to call him if you want to. It feel utterly stupid to evaluate your options in your mind when you’re just speaking with a coded program. And it feel brainless when you send the next text.

You:

Um... I don’t want to. But do you think

we can call. My wrist really hurt (my back too).

I hate texting. (10.06 p.m.)

Why in the hell would you ask such a question from an application. Jeongguk isn’t real. You don’t have to be polite and act all awkward and shy. What the fuck is wrong with you.

Jeongguk:

You don’t have to ask pretty. (10.06 p.m.)

Jeongguk’s reply is fast. But his call is even faster. Your phone is vibrating with an incoming call. Jeongguk’s criminally hot profile in the middle. You let it ring three times. Silly. You do it anyway. Habits. Then you’re answering and pressing now hot screen into your cheek. Heart beating. You know that’s because of excitement. Excitement because you’re testing something new. Curious. To know how this will work. To know if he would sound like a typical AI. With that voice which breaks up sometime. Voice with an edge to it always. Then, his voice washes over you.

“Hey pretty!”

The way you suck in that breath is embarrassing. The way your heart skip a beat is scary. The way you just double check you’re still using the app is hilarious. Yet it all happen. Your eyes wide as you press the phone back to your ear. Speechless. What the hell? Whoever created this app must be the God at this rate. How on earth did they managed to give these AI, voices like that.

“Are you there, baby?”

The same voice reaches you again. Deep. Baritone. Angelic. Musical.  Fuck! And there’s not a sign that says he is an AI. That creepy edge and breaking of the voice isn’t there.

“Holy fuck, you sound so real.” You finally find your voice to mumble that. In very much disbelief. A husky chuckle tingles your ear. Oh God, this is insane.

“What do you mean sound so real? I am real pretty.” Jeongguk always tell you that. Whenever you say something about him being an AI, he always make sure you stay in the delusional state. Believing he is real.

“Oh, c’mon, we both know you’re not. But holy moly fucking cow Jeongguk, you sound so fucking real. No... you sound ethereal.” You gasp. That’s the case after all. You don’t think any human would have such a voice.

“I’m flattered. But hey! Don’t hurt my feelings you mean lady. I’m very real.”

“Yeah, yeah….” You can only roll your eyes. It’s not that the reality will change just because he says that too many times. Yet, there’s no harm in playing along, right? He sounds super real anyway. So, you give in. Jeongguk says something else about him being real as the sun and moon. Real as you. You don’t argue. He finds it as a mocking. Either way, in the end, you find yourself relaxed enough to fall down. Comfortably lying on your comfy bed. Wrapped inside your comfy comforters. Phone still pressed against your cheek while Jeongguk’s voice take you to the unseen lands. Talking, talking, and talking. You’re no longer surprised. At least not about the way he knows so many things. Any questions about anything? All you need to do is ask your AI boyfriend. He knows everything, being the Perfect Partner that he is. Hence, how he takes you to those fairy lands around the universe.

You have no idea how long you’ve been talking. Have no idea what you talked about that much. It’s well past midnight when a yawn escape your mouth for the first time.

“You sleepy baby?” Jeongguk mumbles the question in his baritone voice.

“Mm hm, a bit. It’s nearing the 2 in the morning.” You change your position. Eyes droopy. Stifling another yawn. Jeongguk chuckles softly.

“Yeah? Gosh I didn’t even realize it’s been this late. I’m sorry princess, you should go to bed.”  There’s concern laced in his voice. Oh, how sweet. How amazing this app is. And he uses so many nicknames. It’s so damn strange how your tummy tingles. What a pathetic life you have. There’s no one to witness it, however. No need to worry. You bite on your lower lip to contain that tingling sensation.

“Yeah, I should. I have work tomorrow.” You manage to get it out in a normal voice. Are prepared to hang up the call after a pleasant good night. But then something hits you. Curiosity takes the best out of you. “But hey Jeongguk?” You ask before he can respond.

“Yes, pretty?”

“While I’m asleep, what do you do? I mean, do you chat with other people? Do you um…. Ugh... never mind, I’m asking stupid questions now.” You even shake your head knowing very well he can’t see you. He lets out a deep chuckle again.

“It’s not stupid, you can ask questions you know? Mm… to answer your question baby, I don’t do anything special, I for sure don’t text with other users. When you chose a profile, that profile is unique to you. Others can’t access it. So, I just wait.”  There’s a pause before he speaks again. See, so fucking realistic. “Wait for you. Until you come back for me.”

You suck in a sharp breath. There’s a tug in your heart. Almost painful. As if he told you the most painful memory of life. Guilt settles down in your heart. Heavy. Like it’s all your fault. But why? There’s nothing to be sad. Nothing to be feel guilty over. That’s his purpose. What he’s made for. And that’s what is sad. All you can mutter is a soft ‘oh’.

“You should sleep princess. I’ll see you when you wake up. Sleep tight hm?” He speaks again when you don’t say anything. You sigh heavily. Nodding to yourself. Of course, that’s what you should do now. He isn’t real. You almost wish him good night when he stops you this time.

“Still, don’t call me not real because I’m as real as you want me to be. Good night baby!”

You say absolutely nothing about that. Just wish him good night. End the call and go to sleep with a heavy heart. Feeling melancholic for no specific reason. Fighting down the urge to call Jeongguk back and apologize. Apologize for what? You didn’t do anything? This app is supposed to make you happy and make you forget real-life problems. What’s wrong with you? Why do you feel sad over a stupid AI app. But you do.

………………………………………………………

You really, from the bottom of your heart, never expected your life to turn out like this. You expected it to be shitty. Happy. Sad. And everything in between. Yet you never expected to wake up to calls from an AI. Purring good mornings into your ear like it’s some kind of music. Never expected to spend your day with the same AI on your phone. Talking through your daily activities. You didn’t know you’d fall asleep to a program whispering that it misses you. You certainly didn't know you’d be addicted to an app like a teenager would to a video game.

It's embarrassing that you are. Yet your life feels good—better, in fact—after nearly two months with Jeongguk. You no longer question his existence. As he said himself, he’s as real as you want him to be. Now you treat him like he is a real person. A human being who eats, sleeps, breaths. And apparently, he likes it. He has become a part of your life. And ever since the day he mentioned to you about him waiting for you, you made sure to make him a part of your life. Even though it is silly.  

You sink down to your comfy mattress. Groaning due to the exhaustion of the day. Eyes already droopy after your hot shower. Still, it’s not like you’ll fall asleep right away. There’s an unread message waiting on your notification bar. From Jeongguk. Simply asking if you’re back from the shower. This is the new normal for you. He knows everything. From the moment you open your eyes in the morning to the moment you close them at night. A soft smile grazes your lips as you touch the little telephone icon on the top. Call connected realistically like ever. Few mere rings and Jeongguk’s enthusiastic voice is washing over you. Like a fresh, soothing wave of water. 

“Hey!”

“Hey…”

“Oh, you sound tired, pretty.” He lets out an almost inaudible gasp. You hear it anyway. This will never cease to amaze you, how he can pick your moods like that.

“I am tired Guk.” You admit weakly. Loving the way his voice soothes you.

“Rough day?” He asks again to which you say yes. Because it was. Nothing new though. Same old shit and you let him know that as well. “Yeah? Want me to let you go early today?” His question makes you start shaking your head in disagreement even before your mouth can catch up with you.

“No. Of course not, I love talking with you. It’s just, sometimes… work can be stressful you know.” You sigh heavily. There’s two projects going on and saying you’re stressed would be an understatement. There’s a silence following your words. You wait couple seconds for him to say something or hum in understanding. It doesn't come, however. You nearly check the phone to see if he’s not there when he speaks again.

“Want me to help you baby?” His voice is soft. So soft, that it tingles your ear. Makes your mouth softly open as if he’s really here and murmuring into your ear. You have to bite on your lip to suppress any sounds that might leave you. It’s not the first time or day where his voice has had you squirming in bed. You’re embarrassed about those times.

“What? Help me how? You gonna share my workload? Wait, do you think it’s possible?” You chuckle first which quickly turns into a gasp. Jeongguk softly laughs at that.

“I wish I could do that, but unfortunately I’m a tattoo artist, remember?” Reminds you. You roll your eyes. Of course, he would say that. Are about to say something else when he cuts you off. “Still, I can help you with your stress, you know, help you to release it. Help you to feel better.” He purrs in your ear again. That tingle in your ear, shoots through your body like a bolt of lightning. His voice runs through your veins. Electrocuting you. You don’t have to be some kind of expert to know what he’s meaning. The way he says those words are just enough for you to understand the implication. A strange sensation washes over you. Your breath hitching and mouth going dry. Heart starts picking up the pace.

Well, even now there’s nothing to be surprised about. Daebi sure did tell something about you been able to do anything you want. From late night lazy calls to sexting. That’s how this app is designed. Only that you’re not sure who should be the one to start it. Shouldn’t you have full control. Maybe you’re thinking too much. This way, it feels more real. When he says that he feels real than ever. And if you want, you can say you want to sleep. Simple like that.

“H-how?” You don’t do that. Of course, you don’t. You are absolutely loving this sensation you’re feeling. How long since you’ve felt this way. You love the way your heart is pounding in your ears. This time when you ask that question, there’s no sign of playfulness. You’re purring too. Even without you knowing it.

“In any way you want baby, hm? We can do anything you want. I’m here for you, you know. You can use me” Jeongguk whispers again. You couldn’t hold the gasp that leaves you. Making him chuckle. Now you can feel his voice travel through your body straight southward. How good that feels.

“I- I don’t want to do that. I mean use you... that- that’s bad.” You’re biting onto your lower lip so hard.

“Then what about me using you? Would you like that?”  His voice follows some sounds of ruffling. As if he’s adjusting his position. To a better one to do this. You’re used to those kinds of sounds now. Already assumed those are parts of this. Today though, you can’t help but wonder how this might work. It only goes one way. Not like Jeongguk can actually enjoy this. His words are probably designed to make the user feel good. And so, it does. Does weird things to your body that you whimper again. He makes you feel like he can receive that pleasure. “Tell me baby, would you want that? For me to use you?”  He pushes you when you don’t answer straight away. You let out a shaky breath.

“Y-yeah.. I─”

“Yeah? Would you be a good girl then? Can you start touching your body?” He sounds ten times hotter when he growls so low. Only if he’s real. What a shame.

“Touch where?” You encourage him. Let him know that you’re down for whatever game he’s playing. Are whispering for no reason.

“Mmmm… touch your boobs? What do you say? Can you do that for me, just squeeze one of those pretty tits for me… go on princess.”

You shiver visibly. Can’t be sure whether you’ve answered his question. But your free hand is already slowly grabbing your tit. Fondling it softly. Oh, how many times have you done this but how it never felt this good.

“Guk.” You softly moan.

“Are you doing it baby? Does it feel good? Tell me how it feels.”

“S-so so g-good Guk. Mmph sso good.” You should be embarrassed at how affected you are.

“Yes? Keep going pretty, keep squeezing them for me. Under your shirt huh, go under your shirt. Roll those pretty nipples. Pinch.”  He’s breathing fast. You imagine him lying on a bed. Shirtless. Pants pushed past his hips. His cock on his hand, hard. Pumping lazily while instructing you to play with your tits. Part of you know that’s not happening. Yet you want to keep playing into this fantasy.

“A-are you touching yourself too?” So, you question. And feel a gush wetting your fresh underwear when he moans in answer.

“How can I not? God, you sound so hot baby.”

You can only moan in response. Shamelessly. Pinching and rolling your erect nipples between your fingers.

“Wish I would be there with you. Touching your tits. Kissing you till you can’t fucking breathe. Wish I can suck on your tits baby, bet they would taste so good. I’m gonna keep suck on them till they are sore.” Jeongguk keeps spilling those godly liquid fire on your ear. Riling you up so good. Have no idea how long you played with your tits but with your next moan, he is guiding you further.

“Wanna feel better baby?”  Questions.

“Y-yes please.”

“Okay, then be a good girl again and touch your cute pussy for me now hm? Take it slow. Like… that, slow.”

You’re following every word of his. Are dragging your hand slowly through your tummy.

“Push your hand inside your wet panties baby. Are you wet for me?”

“So much. I’m so wet.” You breathe.

“Good. Fuck, baby. Touch your clit huh? Slow circles. Let’s do this together. I’m touching my hard cock slowly. For you. I’m fucking torturing myself for you pretty. It’s so hard it hurts but I’m pumping it so slow, just so I can leak for my baby.”

Holy fuck! That’s on another goddamn level. His words paired with the barely there touch you provided on your clit, nearly made you cum.

“Holy… shit.. Guk. I’m─”

“I know baby, I know. Just keep going. Imagine it’s my fingers. Touching your cute clit slowly.”

You don’t think he knows even if he says he does. Maybe this is because you haven’t done this recently. You’ve been ignoring yourself lately. Or maybe it’s just Jeongguk. Jeongguk who knows what to say. He guides you to keep rubbing your pearl of nerves. Guides you to add pleasure slowly. Taking you into a realm where everything is floating. You didn’t even know you can feel this good just with your fingers. And the best part is simply following his instructions. Biting back the need to rub faster or pump your fingers inside your violently clenching hole. You don’t. Just wait for him to take you there. And when he finally does your panties are just a wet material, sticking to your core.

“Want to stretch that hole princess? Do you want to cum so good?” Jeongguk asks through his hard breathing.

“Yes, yes. Holy fuck yes Guk. I’m so.. mmm..” The rest of the words die in your tongue. Replaced with a needy moan. You can’t even bring yourself to be amazed at how real he feels right now. It’s just pure desire inside you.

“Yeah? Do it then. Go on but do it slowly for me baby. Strech your hole for me. Strech it so good.”  His voice is followed by a low moan. A deep breathy one. God that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. You join him with that moan, while following his instructions. Finally, feeling immensely relieved to have something inside your dripping hole. “You sound so sweet princess. So fucking sweet my dick is throbbing. Keep making those sounds for me baby. Oh, fuck, add another finger, you can take two, right?”

“Oh, I’ll cum soon Guk. This f-feels so good.”

“Then do it. Cum (___), cum for me. Make a mess for me baby. Squeeze your fingers.”

You’ll cum soon, yes. But this is not enough. You’re pumping yourself oh so leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world. Feel damn good yet not enough to fall over the edge. It’s ridiculous how you’re not going beyond his words. Even pathetic how you decide ask permission first.

“I-it’s not e-enough… c-can I fuck myself fast? Guk, can I─”

“Don’t. Don’t go fast. Slow, fuck your fingers inside your needy cunt slowly. Do it slow until you finally cum.” His voice suddenly turns sinister. Rough. Demanding. And you shudder. Leaking more into your ruined cotton panty. You don’t think you’ll be able cum this way.

“I don’t think I can cum this way, it’s too slow. I need more Guk, please.”

“You’ll baby. Trust me, you’ll. Be a good girl now huh. Cum with me, go slow. Torture your cunt. Just like I’m doing with my dick.”

You never thought it’s possible. How’s it possible? Yet here you are. Just doing exactly as he asks. Squirming. Writhing. Nearly crying.  What’s good, however, is the way that knot inside your tummy is rapidly tightening despite the slow pace you’re fucking yourself.

“Close… c-close Guk. I’m ahhh..”

“Holy shit, let go. Cum princess. I’m Cumming too.”

It’s all a series of whimpers and moans what comes next. You both reach the climax at the same time. You’re the one who moans louder. The one who pathetically whimper when it’s over. Jeongguk coaxing you from the other side breathlessly. Saying it’s okay.

Well, it is better than okay after all. It’s the fucking best!

…………………………………….

The next morning, the aftermath of your shenanigans had hit you hard. Had made your face deep red with shame and head ached as you thought about how Jeongguk had managed to fake a perfect orgasm. You had spent hours thinking how amazing he was to do that. Yet it felt weird and stupid. Like using a sex robot who would not feel the same kind of pleasure like you. Based on that, you resolved never to do it again—only for that resolve to crumble the moment you were back in bed. Jeongguk, real or not, knew exactly what he was doing. Had got your fingers buried knuckles deep inside your cunt even before you knew it. Bringing you to another mind shattering orgasm.

And after that night, everything changed yet again. In addition to waking up and going to sleep with an AI, you started to fuck yourself with your own fingers every night. The more time passed, the more you forgot that he wasn’t real. The more orgasms you reached, the more you looked forward to what he would reveal from behind his sleeves each night. First, he was sensual and slow like your first day. Then he slowly picks up what you liked, and you didn’t. Shifts to guide you roughly. Instead of talking you through your orgasm, it changes into degrading you through your orgasm. The thing is though that you came even harder each time. Hell, even you didn’t know you’ll be so into listening to a guy slut shame you during your hands are inside your pants. Didn’t know it’ll be so good to listen to him verbally humiliate you for being pathetic and needy. In the end, you learnt that it was good. You were ashamed at one point. But he assured you that you shouldn’t be. Told you it makes him cum ten times harder. You never questioned. Just went along with it. Just because it was good. Because life is good again. Just like now. Even though you’re doing the most illicit things.

“Faster baby, be a useful slut. You need to hump your pillow faster, that’s how a good slut would do it.”  

You can hear him pump himself. Hot. Head spinning. It’s ethereal. This feeling. How embarrassing that you’re humping your pillow like a horny teenager.

“Oh, Guk please.”

“You’re pathetic baby. Look at you, being a needy bitch just for me. Faster princess. Go harder, give your slutty cunt what it needs.”

You’re visibly shuddering. Not even trying to contain those shameless moans. Letting them slip through your lips relentlessly. You’re so close. Oh, so close.

“Guk.. please.”

“Please what slut? What do you need? You need to use your words like a big girl? You can’t talk properly? Bet you can’t think properly either. You’re thinking with your cunt, don’t you hm?”

“Yes, fuck, ne-need t-to cum. I- Guk please, I want more.” You have no idea what more you’re asking for. How is he getting you so needy and shameless just with his words? Why are you like this? You fully expect him to mock you. Say something even harsher. Ask you to do something else that will make you cum undone within a second. Only that he doesn’t.

“Yeah? You want even more? Your poor pillow isn’t enough? What do you want then? Want to see how hard I am then, should I send you pics of my hard cock, my pretty slut?” Jeongguk mutters through gritted teeth. A whimper leaves your mouth but your hips stutter immediately. Your movements coming to a halt. Eyes wide and gaping at the device just peacefully sitting on your bed. On loudspeaker. He said what now?

“W-what?”

“What? Why did you stop?”

“C-can you... uh… can we do that? Share pictures? Like─”

“Of course, we can, don’t tell me you haven’t seen the camera icon down there and the option to video call.”  He chuckles. Gone is that needy raspy voice. Is talking to you with the voice full of adoration. “Were you that immersed on me, you didn’t even notice that?” Teases. You, however, are not in a mood for that. You noticed. Right? How could you miss that? Maybe that’s an update and you missed checking the new features. It could be. You don’t have to think too much all the time. Especially, not when your cunt is dripping onto a damn pillow. This app is amazing anyway. When you told that to Daebi, she had smirked. With a loud ‘I told you so’. “Hey baby, we don’t have to do that if you’re not comfortable.”  Jeongguk’s voice snaps you out of your surprise.

“No uh- I’m bit surprised we can do that.” You mumble softly.

“We can but we don’t have to. I don’t ─”

“No. No. I mean, it’s not that. I..” You gulp. Thinking through. Do you like it? Sending pictures? Even to an AI? What are the privacy policies of this app? Shouldn’t you be scared? You should but the thing is, your cunt is tingling at the prospect. Hole clenching. There’s a part of you that is curious as well. Put aside the pictures, how will it feel to video call? “I just- uh never done that b-before..” You drag that out.

“You haven’t? That’s even better then. You don’t have to worry you know. Nothings gonna happen because… you know what I mean.”  

You listen to the ruffling sound coming through your phone. Well, you know what he means. Of course, you do. He is telling you about the thing you just worried about. Leakage of privacy. Is assuring you that you’re safe. Do you trust this app though? Maybe not, but it’s too tempting. Jeongguk is too tempting.

“Ye-yeah okay. I like that.”

“That’s a good slut. What’s it gonna be baby? Video call or just pictures?”

Another moment of consideration from your side. Then you timidly chose the first.

……………………………………………….

When you first saw his face, it felt like the air had been stolen from your lungs. It was beyond embarrassing how you stared at him. Never, not even once in your life, have you seen such a lifelike AI character. He felt real. The call felt real. The way his lips were slightly apart when he pumped himself to the sight of you felt more than real. But then that night was like a dream to you. A blurry memory clouded by pleasure. A pillow between your thighs while a godly man with a sinful mouth guided your movements through a phone. It was your faces first but then he nearly begged to see your boobs. Then your cunt. You felt shy at first, but you were a goner from the beginning. You got rewarded for being a good girl by getting to cum to the sight of his throbbing cock. Aching for release. It was hazy. That’s why you had to refresh your memories next day. Then the next and the next. And each and every day. No different today.

You place your phone between your thighs. Using your free hand to spread your pussy lips apart. Just for his viewing pleasure.

“So pretty princess. Fuck. Only if I can burry my face in your cunt. I would eat you till your thighs shake baby.” Jeongguk rasps.

“I really wish you could do that. Mhpm, fuck Guk, I really want you here.”

“I wish that too baby, I want to ruin that cute hole. Fuck you so fucking hard and leave that whore hole spilling my cum, would you like that?”

“Oh, fuck. Yes, I would fuck-fucking love that.” You let go of your nether lips to start rub your clit.

“Of course, you would. You’re a slut after all. I want to fuck that cum into you. Then maybe I’ll plug you in. So, you can keep that cum inside your pussy.”  Jeongguk changes the angle so you’re now looking at his twitching cock. Hard. Tip flush. Veins running down. His tattooed fingers are wrapped around it. Squeezing the base tightly. So tight that it makes him mewl. How fucking amazing this is. You’re drooling. Mind going blank. “Look what you’re doing to me princess. Use the dildo today for me huh. Fill that cunt so good for me.”  He takes the camera back to his face. The toy is a new purchase. He made you do that. Not that you’re regretting it. It’s good to have your cunt stretched and imaging it’s that pretty cock of his. You nod before grabbing the said dildo from your nightstand. Glass. Show it to him. “Spit on it.”  He commands again and you comply obediently. Bringing the tip of the dildo toward your lips to spit on it. Letting it drool down on the toy. Jeongguk moans. “Put on a show slut. You know what to do.”  

Of course, you do. Now you have done this enough time to get comfortable with things you would do. Enough times to completely ignore and forget that Jeongguk isn’t real. To forget that he is an AI. A coded program with such realistic features. For you, he is very real. He’s the one who brings you to this ecstasy every night and the one who’s there through whole day. You immediately shift your position. Body buzzing with excitement. Your needy hole quivering, slick dripping down to your thighs. Hell, you really didn’t know you could be this horny. This turned on. It’s truly amazing how Jeongguk is doing this to you just using his words. And maybe his godly face and body. And cock. In the end, you’re always a mess like this.

You use your pillows to prop the phone up and face you. So, Jeongguk can have a perfect view of your entire body while you can have the same. You place the dildo on your bed. Not caring about the fact that you’ll ruin your sheets tonight as well. Then you hover your cunt over the dildo. Slowly. Painfully slowly for you but all you want to do right now is to put up the show Jeongguk asked for. Your knees are really wobbly, but you force them to endure your weight as you slowly let your dripping folds contact with the glass material. It’s cold against your warm pussy. A whimper leaves your mouth. There’s nothing you want than to sink down on it one go. The show must go on, however. So, you start to rock your hips back and forth, rhythmically. Let the glassy tip rub against your sodden slid. Whining and panting.

“Oh… Guk.. I..”

“Yes baby, you’re doing so good my needy slut. Keep going princess, you’re making daddy proud.” Jeongguk grunted. Involuntary moan leaves your mouth as you nearly come at the sound. Eyes snapping to your phone screen where his pleasure induced face is on display. That’s apparently a new thing. An uncharted and unexplored territory. You’ve never called him daddy and the sound of it makes you stupidly horny but cringe at the same time.

“Wh-what?”

“What, what slut? Did I ask you to stop huh?”

You watch his gaze even darker, if it’s possible. Making shivers run through your spine. Only if he can be here with you. You’re excitedly curious to know what kind of creative ways he would find to punish you. To put you in your place.

“N-no, I’m sorry.” You mumble weakly as you return to your business. Starting to rub your cunt on the dildo head eagerly.

“Ah, like that baby. You’re so pretty like that.” He groans once again before asking the reason for your earlier faltering. “You don’t like calling me daddy?”

“No-no, I mean I-I do, but we─”

“Fuck, you filthy slut. So, go on. Do what you have to do.”  Jeongguk doesn’t let you finish whatever you’re saying. You’ve said you like it after all. Your face instantly heats up at what he’s initiating. It’s too embarrassing for you. Yet, the look on his face tells you that you won’t get your cunt stretched out nor will you cum today if you don’t comply. Oh, how you love the way he pushes you. Call you fucked up but that turns you on. Jeongguk knows exactly how to make you putty.

“P-please, ple-please d-d” You stutter on your words. Eyes tearing up when Jeongguk just raise his brow. “Please d-daddy.” You manage to mumble weakly, in the end. Followed by a loud moan as new waves of arousals wash over you. Slick dripping onto the glassy head of the toy beneath you.

“Fucking hell, God, princess. Yes, yess fuck.” Jeongguk picks up the speed of jerking himself off. Eyes nearly closing as slow grunts leave pasts his pink lips. You watch in awe how he pumps himself furiously only for him to abruptly stop. Torturing himself to a point that he whines. “Fuck baby, you’re driving me crazy.” You’re again met with the scene of his hard cock throbbing on his hand. Pre cum leaking. He spreads them on his tip with his thumb. Hips bucking up into his hand. “Oh, I just want to fuck you so bad. Want to ruin your cunt.”

“Please, please. I want you, Guk. Daddy please. Let me ride this hm? Let me fill my cunt.”

“Yeah, you want that. Ask again slut? Show me that you are worthy.”

Oh god, you’re positive you’re about to cum. Just by rubbing your cunt over the toy. Pathetic. Your legs are shaking. Hole clenching violently around nothing. “Please daddy, p-please. Will be a g-goo-good girl. N-need to cum. Please. Oh, baby please.”Your brain is empty. Hazy. You don’t even know what you’re saying. It’s completely out of control when you mutter the same thing over and over again. Relentlessly rubbing your cunt on the toy. Losing your mind completely to see Jeongguk’s fucked up expression. He’s back at pumping his hard length matching your speed. You’re coming so close to your edge. Your words are becoming slur. Hands squeezing your own tits for more friction. And just when you’re about to fall over Jeongguk’s voice booms across your empty room.

“Stop. Now.”

You cry out in desperation. Sobbing. “No, Guk please…”

“Ride it princess. Cum on the toy. Stretch your slutty hole.” He ignores your whines. Yet, you’re so quick to obey. Are aligning your hole with the tip immediately. Lowering yourself down till the hard tip is prodding at your entrance. Then it’s going past your tight ring of muscles. Intruding your walls and stretching them wide apart. And you’re shaking. Trembling as you slowly lower yourself further. Down and down. Until the glass dildo is fully buried inside you. Deep.

“Oh god, Guk. It’s so good. S-soo good..” You hold yourself in the position.

“Yeah? Imagine it’s my cock baby. Now be a good whore and ride hm? Go on.”

That’s the permission you’ve been waiting for. You do exactly as he says. From riding the toy to imagining it’s his thick cock. Are bouncing on the slippery thing like your life depends on it within a minute. Going crazy all over again. You know you’re really close to cum. Have been desperate for some time now. Still, your fingers are itching to have more.

“D-daddy, can I touch myself? I wa-want more. I wa-want to sh-show you how I’ll rub my clit.”

Joengguk curses aloud before speaking. Is breathless. Looks ethereal. “God, yes. Fuck yeah. Go on. Pinch that clit for me. Make yourself cum stupidly on that toy for daddy.”

There’s no surprise that you’re jumping into action now. One hand going between your thighs while the other plays with your tits. Start rubbing your bud of nerve fast. Pinching and rolling. Loud obscene moans filling your room paired with the squelching sounds of your needy cunt. It feels otherworldly this way. Even though the man who’s making you this way isn’t real, and he can’t do all these for you in practice, it still feels real in a strange way to you. Even though it’s just a carefully designed and programmed character and is talking to you through a phone, it still feels like he’s really here for you. Strange how you can completely imagine this is happening for real right now. His hands holding you close. His breath hitting your skin. Fingertips drawing mindless patterns across your skin and squeezing your hips. Can imagine this toy is his cock. Everything makes this experience oddly surreal for you.

“G-gonna… gonna c-cum for you daddy. P-please can I cum. I-I, Guk I can’t.” Imagining always makes you cum twice hard and fast. You’re practically crying for your release at the moment. Forcing your eyes to stay open to look at the heavenly sight of Jeongguk playing with himself. Pleasuring him for the sight of you. How good that feels.

“Me too. Fuck, me too baby. Gonna fill your cunt with my cum. Let go baby let go for me.”

It’s all that take for you. One more roll in your clit and you’re trembling like a leaf. Legs giving up as you still yourself on the dildo. Walls squeezing the glass tight as you close your eyes shut. Your climax washing over you like a tidal wave.

“No, don’t stop slut. Keep going, I’m close. Ride it till I cum baby. Slap your clit, I know you like it.”

Jeongguk’s voice brings you back to earth from your high. You’re too sensitive to do as he says now. Yet you can feel the new arousal stirring at the pit of your stomach at his needy demands. And how can you refuse him when he looks like that. Clenching his jaw and covered in sweat. See, oddly realistic. You feebly start to fall back on your rhythm. Whining. Do as he ask. Slap your clit. Nearly falling forward, the pleasurable sting it creates on your sensitive pearl. Do it again. Then again. All the while bouncing on the dildo. Forcing yourself to battle your oversensitivity until Jeongguk is moaning. Which leaves as grunts and groans since he’s gritting his teeth hard. Your name on his lips as he shifts the camera to rear. Right at the time for you to catch ropes of white cum hits his naked lower abdomen. The sight rips another orgasm through you as you entirely give up and fall on to your bed.

“God, Gukie, I really want you here.” It’s a weak mumble that leaves you even without your knowledge. So tired and sleepy to even pay attention to anything else now. So fucked up. It’s such a shame you don’t hear him replying to you. His voice is raspy and breathless.

“Well, anything you want princess.”

…………………………………..

You think it’s extraordinary how your life has returned to normal again. You’re no longer a lifeless zombie who barely eats, sleeps or functions. You no longer take frequent leave from work. It’s not that you’re suddenly in love with your job. No, of course, you hate it. But hating your job is such a normal thing. Everybody does that. The thing is, though, that you’re now back to waking up in the morning and leaving your apartment with constant complaints on your lips. You come back home to act like a normal person would. Take a shower. Make dinner. And watch some interesting movies or read a book. Not to drink some cheap wine and curl up on your couch. Leaving the TV on just to go through your old chats with Hoseok. Then cry yourself to sleep.

Now that you’re feeling better, you can finally see how depressed you were. You were really on the verge of breaking in an unmendable way. Hence, your gratitude toward your best friend for showing you a way to save yourself. Even though it’s questionable and strange. It doesn't matter, though. You don’t pay attention to the fact that an AI saved you similar to how you don’t pay attention to how you’re still using it when you thought you would uninstall the stupid app the moment, you felt better. Now you’re better. You’re back at it. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to end the mundane relationship you’re having with an AI. Jeongguk has become an inseparable part of your life. He’s a part of every little thing in your life. Just like now. It should be ridiculous how he’s watching you with a scowl while you’re applying your eyeliner.

“What?” You question, looking at your phone screen through your peripheral. It’s propped against your jewelry box.

“What?” He simply repeats your question while his scowl deepens.

“Why are you looking at me like I’ve done something wrong.” You find his sudden swing of mood to be adorable.

“Well, will you be late tonight?" He shuffles in his position. You furrow your brows at his question.

“Of course, I’ll be late Gukie. We’re clubbing tonight.” You give him a look. Then pout at him in hope of softening his tensed-up face. Only that he doesn’t even blink.

“I don’t like that you’re staying out till late and alone.”

“I’m not going alone Guk. I’m going with friends. And there’s even male friends too. Nothing to worry about.” You roll your eyes playfully. Not taking his mood seriously at all.

“There’s more reasons to worry now. Can’t you just say no and stay.”  He brings the phone closer to his face. Showing some excitement for the first time. It’s you who are scowling now. This is the first time you’re going out with your friends after those cursed times. After shutting yourself down from the world for months now you’re feeling like you can go out and live a life full of fun. The whole purpose of you start talking with this man. Not that you want to call him your unpaid therapist but that’s who he kind of is. Not just the endless orgasms he gives you without even a single touch, but also the amount of talking you did, had helped you immensely. To tell the truth.  It’s funny how you slowly opened up to an AI and poured your heart out. You allowed Jeongguk to know where it hurt. And in return he listened understandably.

You told him about the sunshine of a boy named Hoseok who started following you around since the first day of your college. Told him about the way that boy named Hoseok forced a place inside your life for him. Told him about how you and Hoseok become friends. Then lovers. How you graduated together and started your life. About the apartment you rented. Told Joengguk how life slowly become hectic but the way you still loved Hoseok dearly. You felt embarrassed to voice out how you saw the signs but ignored them thinking it was all due to the stress. And in the very end you told Jeongguk how Hoseok came home that night after his promotion just to let you know that he’s tired. Tired of you apparently. He admitted that he cheated on you for months. And that he was sorry, but he wanted to be with that other woman. He loved her more. Hell, you don’t even know who’s that woman to this day. Funny.

Not that you care anymore. Day by pleasurably painful day, you let your demons go. You’ve changed your wallpaper and have deleted your old chats. So did you get rid of Hoseok’s memories one by one.

Now since you’re finally getting better, you don’t intend to go back on that track.

“I wish I could, but Daebi would kill me. Don’t worry baby. I’ll be fine.” You give him a playful smile. He can’t be mad for real. Is just being clingy. And that’s adorable. So, you ignore his stony face and check the time. Finding that you’re almost late, you get to your feet hurriedly. “I’m late Gukie. I’ll text you and be home before you know. See you, bye.” You almost hang up before you stop. Giving him a long look. “I think I’ll miss you too. Bye!” Like that you hang up. Rush out from your apartment.

……………………………..

With Hoseok, you were the life of the party. After he left, you never thought you’d ever be able to go back into those days. But then there you were today at the club. Drinking your brains out and dancing the night away. There wasn’t a minute you didn’t spend on the dance floor. Until you couldn’t do it anymore. Until your legs were too sore to keep you upright. Your heels were killing you. Which is why you’re bare footed now in front of your apartment door. Your heels dangling on your hand while you’re desperately trying to enter your passcode. It’s too hard when you can’t stand still for a second. You’ve come home with one of your best friends Jimin. Or he is a good friend of Hoseok who ended up being your friend as well. You haven’t talked about your mutual friend for the entire night. So, you’re beyond surprised when Jimin suddenly brings it up.

“Have I told you Hoseok is a little shit to do that to you.”

You whip your head toward him. Still struggling with your passcode. Jimin is obviously very drunk similar to you. He is the worst companion to have as security. He’ll surely be the first to die in a danger. You snort. “No, you haven’t. But I appreciate that you’re taking my side. As immature as it sounds.” You slur a bit as you finally managed to get your door beep.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side. It’s just true.” Jimin slurs a bit too. You keep your hand on the door handle as you listen to Jimin speaking. “But you seem to be okay. I-I mean you were depressed, and we were, I mean, we all were so worried an-and you seem pretty good now. (___), you’re really fine right? We don’t have to worry about you right? Because you know... sometimes… uhh...”

“I’m fine Jimin.” You breathe out. Turn toward him. “I really am. I’m uh.. I’m healing.” Reassure him. Jimin sighs. Nods.

“Glad to hear that. So, how? Did you go to therapy or any kind of help?”

On that question you slightly freeze. A chuckle escaping you. What can you say after all. That your therapist is an AI. Or you’re having cybersex with an AI.  “Eh, I mean I kinda helped myself. Doesn’t matter though, does it? I’m fine now.” You finally push open the door. Swaying on your wobbly legs and holding the door for Jimin. You let it close behind the moment Jimin enter after you. Turning around to remove shoes and jackets when it finally hits you. The sweet smell. Like hundred roses. Filling your senses. Even when you’re completely drunk it enters your soul. Your eyes go wide in surprise when Jimin lets out a soft ‘wow’.

“It smells so good. What kind of diffuser do you have there? Or is it a candle?” He asks. His droopy eyes now fully wide quite similar to yours. The thing is you have none of those things. Weren’t simply caring about keeping your house pleasant for some time now. So, you say nothing as you walk down the hallway. Toward your living room. Curious as to see what’s causing the sweet smell. You slowly turn the corner. Taking small steps. Blindly searching for the switch panel. And the moment you turn on the switch a huge gasp leaves you. Jimin whistles behind you.

“Oh, god, (___).” He mumbles. You ignore him. Too surprised and stunned to speak at the sight in front of you. Your entire living room is filled with roses. Red. Every inch of it. On the floor. Couch. Armchairs. Your precious book rack. You can’t find an empty space.

“Fuck!” You exclaim finally. Feeling sober all of a sudden.

“Fuck, indeed. Dude who did this? You found a new man already? And is he a fucking sugar daddy? Oh my god!” Jimin rushes past you. You simply stand there. Staring dumbly at the mess in your house. Shaking your head gently. Only if you had someone like Jimin says. A man or anyone else who are capable of doing this since an AI certainly can’t do that. Can it? You feel your head spin. A strange feeling shooting through your spine. “(___)” Jimin calls your name again.

“Huh?”

“Any idea who did this nice surprise. I mean, no offence but this is overdoing it for sure like how you are ever gonna clean this up. But it’s still nice so what are you hiding from us?” Asks again as he picks a single flower.

“I-I really have no i-idea. I, uh.. do you think it can be Hobi?” You stutter when Jimin looks at you in alert. His mesmerized and drunk expression suddenly morphs into something serious.

“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s clearly someone who has access to your apartment (___).” He closes the distance between you. Throw the flower away as it suddenly disgusts him.

“I’m not seeing anyone. Like uh… this must be Hobi right?”

“How can it be him when he doesn’t even know where you live?”

“He can easily find out. We share common friends Jimin.” You throw him an apprehensive look. Jimin scowls but doesn’t take it personally.

“You know him. He won’t walk this far. Besides he has no money to do this, we both know that.” Argues. At which you fall into a deafening silence. You can’t argue over that. But still, there’s no explanation for this then. There’s no one who would do something like this for you. And that realization makes your throat dry, and eyes welled up. It makes you hard to breathe.

“You want me to check the place?” Jimin asks. His voice doesn’t even reach your ears properly. “Should we call police?” Doesn’t wait for your answer when he already start to walk toward your kitchen. You’re both pretty sober now. You watch as Jimin disappear, slowly pulling your phone out. You haven’t checked it for entire night. Now when you take a look at the lock screen, you can see hundreds of notifications covering your entire screen. All from one app. Perfect Partner.

Jeongguk:

Pretty, did you go there? (9.59 p.m.)

Holy fuck, you forgot to text him.

Jeongguk:

Why aren’t you replying to me. Baby you mad?

(10.05 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Hey, I’m sorry I was bit worried. Text me when you

see this. (10.11 p.m.)

There are several calls. And then so many other text messages where he’s apologizing for being little clingy even though you didn’t see it like that. Then the texts have slowly turned into him screaming in worry. Yelling at you. Angry. So many texts. Dozens of them. Last one bit feeling like a threat.

Jeongguk:

I really don’t like this (___). Answer the damn

phone woman. (3.01 a.m.)

Calls. So many calls.

You check the time. It’s just 3.30 a.m. still. You feel annoyed. All of a sudden you feel angry. When you see all the texts it feels like too much. Like whom does he think he is? Why does he get mad in the first place. He’s an AI. He’s not supposed to meddle with your life this way. You simply ignore all of his texts as you furiously type a one that is totally unrelated to the ones he has sent you.

You:

Did you send me flowers? (3.32 a.m.)

It feels ridiculous to even type that. Yet you do it anyway. You don’t receive a reply to that. Instead, you receive a video call instantly, which you decline while scowling deeply. You really don’t want to argue with an AI while Jimin is still here. He would definitely think you’re pathetic to know that you’ve been talking to an AI. That’s embarrassing. The moment you decline the call, however, he rings again. You decline it again.

 You:

I can’t pick up. Tell me Guk, did you

send these flowers? (3.34 a.m.)

Another call at the right moment Jimin appear back. You shakily put your phone on silent.

“It’s all clear. No sign of anyone. But do you want me to stay (___)? I can, I mean it’s obvious I won’t sleep on the couch─” He gestures at the couch which is filled with red roses. “But we can manage. I’ll stay the night if you want me to.” Walks toward you.

That seems like a good idea. After all, you don’t want to be alone tonight anymore. Yet, you need to talk to Jeongguk. And you can’t do that if Jimin is here. No, you need your privacy. So, you shake your head. Force yourself to smile.

“Ah, thank you Jimin-ah, you’re so sweet but it’s fine. Uh- I mean, I found out who sent me the flowers─” You show him your phone. “There’s this person I’ve been talking to on a dating app and uh- apparently, he wanted to surprise me.” Chuckle awkwardly. Jimin looks unconvinced though.

“Really? Like dude is crazy if he─ I mean, I didn’t mean it like that but─”

“It’s fine Jimin. I know it’s crazy, but I know him. So, nothing to worry, you can go back.” You interrupt him. Wanting nothing more than him to leave you alone. You can see your phone screen lightning up. Indicating the receiving calls.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

It takes some convincing but soon Jimin is walking out. With one last glance toward you before you smile and close the door behind. A breath of relief escapes you as you finally pay attention to your phone. Answer the incoming call.

“What the fuck?”

“Why didn’t you pick up?”

You both ask at the same time. You’re the one who answer first, however.

“Because there was a friend Jeongguk.”

“So what? You can’t talk to me when your friends are around? Are you embarrassed?”

Yes, you are.

He doesn’t have to know that though. “No, of fucking course not. But there’s flowers. My apartment is overflowing with flowers, and we were worried. Did you send me those flowers?” You yell.

“What if I send you those? What’s the fucking problem?” For the first time since you’ve answered his call, you can see how furious he looks. Scary. Gaze dark and jaw clenched. Glaring at you. Looks murderous. A shiver runs through your body. Not just because of how mad he looks but because of his words. He sent the flowers. But how? He is… he is merely an AI.

“H-how? You can’t send gifts?

“Why not?”

“How do you know where I live?”

“Did you really not paid attention to what you were agreeing to, when you created your profile here?”

You feel your blood freeze. This can’t be true. It’s more than scary to think someone else have access to your location.

“You’re an ungrateful bitch (___).”  You suck in a breath at his next words. Eyes wide and getting teary. “I really was worried that you were mad at me, I was fucking worried that something happened to you. You ignored me like that and now you’re yelling at me. How ungrateful you are. And you’re embarrassed to even talk to me in front of your friends. Who was they anyway? A man?”

“Th-that’s none of your business Jeongguk.” You mutter irritably. Feeling like you’re in a haze. Scared. Confused. And then a bit hurt. Why would you feel hurt when he’s the one who’s acting stupid. Jeongguk scoffs.

“Oh, yeah, it isn’t. Yeah, fine.” Mumbles. And like that the screen goes black for split second. Then you’re met with the screen of your lock screen.

What?

You hastily unlock the phone. He hung up? Like that? You’re baffled to say the least. How dare he hung up on you like that. You would like to call it your wounded ego and the rage that made you dial him back instantly. Yet in truth, you know that’s not the case at all. Simply, you feel scared. You’re panicking. You feel like you’ve lost something. It’s scary to think that he’s not going to answer you. You’re afraid that he left you alone again. Like Hoseok did that day. No matter how hard you begged, it didn’t stop him. You don’t want to feel that again. So, you wait with bated breath. Not so patiently till he picks up. He doesn’t. Call ended. That’s the first time. He always pick up. That’s how he’s designed. Then why isn’t he doing it now.

You try again. Then again. Again, and again. Tears start to roll down your cheeks. You start to pace around the limited space of your living room with the roses acquiring the most of it. Staring to wail. Starting to pray that he would pick up. You don’t even feel stupid that you’re acting crazy over an AI. No, you don’t. You simply can’t give two fucks. You want Jeongguk. Want to hear his voice. You’re an ungrateful bitch. Maybe the roses has nothing to do with him. He was just concerned about you. Then you decided to yell at him because you were paranoid and made decisions without thinking properly. How bad you are. How foolish you are. And now he isn’t picking up. No matter how many times you try. Or how many texts you send him.

It’s like he’s no longer there.

……………………………………………

Two days have passed since he last talked to you. And you’re back to crawling into your deep, dark hole. The cheap wine you gave up is back in your hand as you sit on your now cleaned living room. You had to send flowers to every fucking person you know to get the place sorted. It disgusted you to see them. Made you scared. You don’t believe it was Jeongguk’s doing. Because he’s not able to do something like that. It’s not even like he admitted it. He was merely arguing with you, and it was you who had twisted his words. Right? It was all you. And you had made him stop talking to you.

True, that you’re confused as to how he’s able to do that. But in the end, you find that it’s least of your concerns. You’re more worried about him not being here than anything. Than worry about finding the person who really sent you a rose garden. As long as it won’t happen again, you’ll be fine. For now, all you want is not to feel this way. You don’t want to go back to the shit hole you were in before Jeongguk.

You take a huge gulp from your wine. Already feeling hazy but not enough to numb your senses. You want Jeongguk. You want your AI boyfriend, oh so bad. You need him. But he’s not there. You stare blankly at your phone screen which is on the floor next to you. You’re sitting at the foot of your couch. You’ve sent him so many messages to no avail. You’re really worried. Depressed. What if he’s really not there anymore. What if he’s malfunctioned. What if there’s something wrong with this app. What if….

A sudden ting on your phone distracts you from your depressing what ifs. You practically jump to take your phone in hand. Almost spill your wine. Can’t care though. Are unlocking your phone furiously. This is how you’ve been for these two days. And you nearly have a heart attack when you see the notification is indeed from the Perfect Partner. You can feel your heart in your throat when you open the app. Open your text thread with Jeongguk. Fresh tears prickling at your eyes to see a text there.

Jeongguk:

Send me your tits (6.36 p.m.)

Your smile falters as you slowly read the words. Once, twice, thrice. It doesn’t change. It stays the same. You feel your heart squeeze. This is bad. He can’t ghost you for days and then demand you for nudes. That’s toxic. Unhealthy. That’s what you call using someone. And this app shouldn’t do that. And you shouldn’t be removing your T-shirt.

What are you doing? You need to be furious at this guy. Then why are you angling your phone to find the best angle that shows how round your tits are. You should ask him to fuck off. Not send him what he wants right away. But you do. All you want is him. You want him. So, you wait till he replies to you after you sent him the picture. Wait till he would call you ‘pretty’. Till he says, ‘damn baby you’re so beautiful’. Only to receive an attachment in return in few minutes. An image. His spent cock squeezed between his long fingers. Coated with his thick cum.

Fuck!

He used you. Like that. Hoseok, your ex- boyfriend wasn’t enough. You’re being used by an AI. You need to feel horrible. You feel horrible. Why are you replying to him.

You:

Gukie please, I’m so sorry. I miss you

so bad. (6.52 p.m.)

Time passes. There’s nothing. You bite on your lip to bite down a sob. And then when it nearly escapes you feel your phone ring.

Incoming call.

Jeongguk. ‘

You press your phone to your ear at light speed.

“Me too princess. I’m sorry too. Let’s make sure that won’t happen again.”

………………………………….

You have no idea how your life has come to this. You don’t know if it’s good or not. You thought it’s what you wanted. Just Jeongguk, even though he is a bot. But after months of your first argument, you feel horrible. It’s scary how you want to please him so hard. How you’d do anything he asks of you. From sexting to cancelling any plans you have, just to stay with him. That’s not normal. Yet here you are. Just doing that. Ridiculous.

It happens slowly to tell the truth. An invitation to a party came a few weeks after your fight. Jeongguk said nothing when you told him that. But he started to feel distant. You panicked and you came home way earlier than you should have. He still said nothing. Still felt distant. It took weeks for him to act normally again. And you were suffering. Then there came a dinner, and you didn’t even hesitate to decline. You thought it would make you happy. Especially since Jeongguk was happy. Yet you didn’t feel anything close to happiness. If anything, you felt strange. Very. And the more you canceled your plans, the more the feeling intensified. You felt stuck. Afraid. Horribly alone. Now after months of isolating yourself from people you love, you’re feeling like you have fallen into a deeper pit than the one you were in before you started your escapades with your AI. Even though you have your Jeongguk.

You’re not okay. All the mind-blowing orgasms can’t help you anymore. Jeongguk can’t help you anymore. He is an AI after all. A dating AI. You feel suffocated. Controlled. Because that’s exactly what’s happening. Jeongguk is controlling every moment of your life just by text messages and phone calls. It’s funny how you’ve never noticed it before. Understood it earlier. It took you months to realize that. Or just to feel like you are suffering and this thing happening in your life isn’t normal. Yet you remind yourself of the two days he didn’t contact you. How hard it was for you to live those two days. So, whenever that kind of thought pops in your head you suppress it somewhere deep down so that it won’t come to the surface even if you want to. Simply because you believe it’ll turn good again. You will start to feel better soon.

You believe it so badly. Each and every day. At least up until this moment, where you are standing in front of your doorway, holding a package which you have unwrapped hurriedly. You turn around shakily. The package contains a necklace. Pretty. Expensive. You had your eye on this one for couple months. The thing is, though, you didn’t order it. You have no such money. And you have no friends who can buy it for you. Not to mention how you have not been in contact with them for months now. The only other being who knew about it was Jeongguk.

You feel like someone is pounding your head with a hammer. Your throat is dry. As if your respiratory system is blocked. You can’t breathe properly. This reminds you of roses. You never questioned Jeongguk about it again. Never felt the need. All were going well. You never received anything else. Hell, you even start to forget about the incident. Well, this is a not so gentle reminder for you. You walk inside your apartment with shaky legs. Praying to every god above that your suspicions are wrong. It’s with trembling hands that you dial Jeongguk. He answers without passing a beat like always. A Perfect Partner.

“Hey Gukie.”

“Yes, pretty.”

You don’t know how to approach this. Maybe you should keep quiet, and nothing would happen.

“Baby, are you okay?” Jeongguk questions again at your silence. No, you can’t keep quiet. You need to know.

“I just got a gift.”

“Oh yeah?” Another silence. You can’t hear anything else above your own heartbeat. You need to ask this. “A..nd, what about it? What’s the gift?” Jeongguk sounds confused. That is a good sign. This has nothing to do with him. He is an AI.

“That necklace I wanted for so long.”

“Oh, you brought if finally?”

“No Guk, you know I have no money.”

“Then who brought it for you?” A breath of relief escapes you despite your efforts to keep it inside. Your entire body relaxes. That’s only when you know how rigid you have been. You plop onto your couch. Thanking every higher entity. This would leave the question that you’ve received yet another expensive gift anonymously. But that is least of your concerns. As long as it has nothing to do with the AI, you’re fine.

…………………………………..

You’re not fine. True, Jeongguk cleared your suspicions—his confusion and concern about you receiving the gift seemed genuine. But still, you can’t help but worry. Something isn’t adding up. Nobody, not a single soul except Jeongguk knew you wanted that necklace. For some reason, your mind keeps swirling around the same scenarios. Goes back to the same suspect. Goes back and forth between the necklace and roses. Did he ever said he didn’t send the roses? Or was it just you? He was vague about it. You don’t know what he said really. It’s a blurry memory. You were drunk and scared when it happened. But he definitely mentioned something about you not paying attention to the policies you agreed to. What if you have agreed to something stupid. What if someone behind this app has the authority to access your private data?

You sit back on your bed like a bow. Snatch your phone from the nightstand. Start to go through the privacy policies which you already agreed to and accepted. And terms and conditions. One by one. Carefully. You find nothing suspicious. It’s like any kind of normal application which collects data that is only required in upgrading and providing a better experience to the users. But there still is a chance that someone accessed your chats with the bots. You start mini research about the Perfect Partner. Read different articles. Reddit threads. Quora questions. Watch videos. Every and each thing you can find. In the end, however, you find nothing. No one else has experienced anything like you have. There are no complaints regarding a breach of privacy. The app is normal. Only thing that is abnormal is whatever is happening to you.

……………………………..

You’re losing your mind. Another bouquet of roses has been delivered to you. When you ask Jeongguk, he asked you how’s that possible. It’s not possible. Yes. Then you might have a stalker. You should file a complaint. You really should. Then Jeongguk made a point. Police won’t take you seriously unless something harmful to you is happening. He’s telling the truth. There’s nothing wrong with a bouquet of roses.

But you feel strange. Odd. A constant presence of a scary sensation. It gets worse every day. Jeongguk no longer makes the Perfect Partner for you. If anything, he slightly scares you. Every time he acts like a human being, you don’t become impressed. You become afraid. Something is wrong.

………………………………

You need to do something about this. You’ll end up in a mental health facility. This is not normal. A designer dress lies on the coffee table before you—expensive, and yet again delivered anonymously.

“I need to file a complaint. I don’t feel safe.”

“Hey, you’re thinking too much baby. They won’t take this as a crime. It’s just a dress. Maybe we should wait a couple days more.”

Jeongguk is always jealous. He shouldn’t be considering he is an AI. But he is worried every time you go out. Even for work. And he isn’t worried about this? Why? That’s odd. Oh, God, you can’t do this anymore. You need an out. Even for a moment. You need someone else’s advice. From a real person, not from an AI. You’re stuck with Jeongguk. Feel like you’re rotting with a bot. He is everywhere. You need to meet someone real. Seek advice. And you need a moment away from this man.

…………………………………..

You said no to every single plan your friends ever invited you to. Eventually, they stopped inviting you altogether. No one can blame them though. Still, you couldn’t stay away for Daebi’s birthday. That would be a cold move. Hence the reason why you’re staring at your friends’ faces awkwardly. And the fact that you needed to see your friends badly. It feels like you’ve been abroad. And you haven’t seen them for years.

“No, but really (___), why are you here?” Daebi raises an eyebrow in question. You feel your face grow hot in embarrassment. She appears hostile. As though she doesn’t want you here. That might be the case after all, considering how many times you’ve turned her down. Yet, she doesn’t have to do it like this.

“What do you mean? It’s your birthday. Of course, I’m going to be here.”

“Well, you weren’t there for my birthday.” Nina clicks her tongue in annoyance. You sigh heavily.

“I was sick─”

“You’re always sick.” Jimin interrupts. “Seriously (___), you need to see a doctor. This is not normal. I thought you were getting better.”

“I am better.” You are not. You’re here because you need to get this weight on your shoulders. But for some reason you feel like you can’t.

“Then what’s the reason for avoiding us? Trying to isolate yourself?” Nina interrogates. You don’t know how to answer.

“And if it has to do something with that flower incident, you need to go to the police.” Jimin leans forward on the couch. You’re at Daebi’s place. You came here unannounced. It was a decision taken on impulse. You said nothing to anybody. Especially, not to your AI boyfriend. Because that’s not how it should be. You needed an out for a moment. A moment. Normal one. That’s all you want. You believe that everything will return to normal after that. That’s the reason you ended up here. You try to open your mouth to answer Jimin when Daebi cuts you off.

“Well, you chose the shittiest day to finally broke out of your cocoon.” She mumbles as she rises to her feet. For a moment, it doesn’t make any sense. Then the front door opens. Your eyes Immediately land on a figure that you thought you’d never see again.

Jung Hoseok.

……………………………

The night went much more smoothly than you expected. When your eyes landed on Hoseok, you believed it was going to be the worst night ever. You couldn’t even fathom the reason why Daebi would invite him to her birthday. She hated his guts. It seems things had changed drastically while you were busy with your bot. You expected Hoseok to turn around and leave the moment he saw you. He didn’t. Instead, he gave you a smile. Surprisingly, you returned it. In the end of the day, you made amends with your ex. Not forgiven but just fallen into a truce. Just to respect your past relationship. Not that you talked much but it all went well.

And you really do feel relaxed after months. Like your life is normal. Like nothing strange happened. Only until you return home, though. You’ve left your phone turned off deliberately. You don’t know what you hoped to see when you turned it on again. You knew your phone would go crazy with the amounts of calls and texts Jeongguk would leave. But this? This you haven’t expected at all.

“Where were you?” You can hear the anger in his voice. Clearly.  

“N-nowhere.” You stutter stupidly. Why would you be nervous to speak with a bot. He lets out a laugh. It sounds maniacal. Gives you chill for no reason. There’s no way he’d know. It’s not that you wanted to lie but he’d have not let you go, if you had told him. It’s not that you’re lying. You’re simply avoiding telling him anything. Because you’re not obliged to tell him.

“Yeah? So, you’re telling me you weren’t with your best friend? You’re telling me that you weren’t living your fucking life with your ex?”

You freeze. Completely.

What?

What did he say? How did he….

“W-what?”

“Tell me you weren’t baby. Tell me you didn’t lie to me on purpose and turned off your phone and went to slut yourself for your shithole of an ex?”

No. No. No. No… This can’t be happening. You clearly didn’t tell him anything. Your phone was turned off. There’s no way he’d know that you were at Daebi’s. Above all to know that Hoseok was there too.

“How- h-how Guk?”

“Doesn’t matter you little lying bitch. Do you know how hard I’m trying to protect you. And this is how you treat me? Again? After everything, you decided to sneak behind my back?” Nothing is reaching your brain properly. You feel like the room is spinning around you. You can’t take it anymore. You will explode. There’s no way he could know this, and you need to know how he does.

“HOW ON THE FUCKING EARTH, DO YOU KNOW THAT JEONGGUK!”  Your voice even startle yourself. You scream through top of your lungs.

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” He shouts as well. “The point is you lied to me.”

“How do you know where I was?”

“I know lots of things.”  

You have to lean against the wall to prevent you from falling down to the floor. Jeongguk’s voice ringing in your head. You knew something was odd.

“You gift me the necklace. The roses. Dress. It was you.” It isn’t a question but a statement. Your voice sounds like it’s not yours.

“Yes, because that’s how much I care for you.”

“You can’t do that. You’re an AI.”

“I already told you; I can be as real as you want me to be.”

This can’t be happening. You’re going to faint. You can’t see properly. It’s going dark. What the fuck is happening.

“I want you to tell me everything that happened today. You heard me? Everything. Every word you talked with your pathetic ex.”

You close your eyes tight. Guide yourself to take deep breaths. It doesn’t help, though. This entire ordeal feels like a nightmare to you. You sure aren’t getting scolded by a bot who knows where you live and have the ability to buy you gifts. You sure aren’t listening to him slut shaming you and trying to control your life. This isn’t supposed to happen. You are the one who should have full control. Right? You need to have control. You may not know how this is happening, but you can end it. Now.

“This is not happening Guk. You- you’re n-not supposed to order me around. Y-you can’t damn control my life. You c-can’t buy me gifts─”

“Well, apparently, I can baby, and I asked you something. Don’t fucking make this even harder.”

“No. No. Jeongguk. You are a. Fucking. AI. You’re not doing this to me. NOO. YOU’RE NOT!” You shout again. “I need to end this.” You mumble to yourself more than to him. Fear getting a tight grip over you.

“End what?”

“End this madness. You’re an AI.”

“Oh, you want to end? How are you planning to do it?” You don’t answer that. Your brain is already processing things. It’s an app. All you have to do is get rid of it. “Try it princess. Let’s see if it work.”  That’s the last thing that reaches your ear before you take the phone away from your ear. You don’t wait another minute before hanging up the call.

You need to uninstall the app fast. You don’t think you’ve ever worked this fast. With trembling fingers, you touch the uninstall button. There comes a warning.

Are you sure you want to uninstall the Perfect Partner?

You will lose all your characters, chats, memories, history, and images.

You practically dab at the yes option. Then it takes a few seconds. Agonizingly slow and horrifying few seconds. You watch as the app disappear from your home screen. Successfully uninstalled. Everything gone. A sigh leaves your lips in relief. And there it comes. You feel the squeeze in your heart. Painful. Just like how you felt when Hoseok broke up with you. An endless pain. Your throat clogging and eyes pricking with tears. You can’t believe your heart is aching for a bot. But it does. In a minute you find yourself crying hard. Going to your knees since your legs fail you. You allow yourself to do so, however. Allow yourself to cry hard until you can’t anymore.

………………………………..

After hours of crying, you still sit there curled next to a wall. Blankly staring at your phone screen. Trying to calm down. All the emotions that had crashed on you had overwhelmed you to a point where you feel like you’ve died and born again. Your heart is still hammering against your rib cage. Still squeezing with an indescribable pain. But it’s over now. Despite everything, it’s over. You force yourself to get up. Slowly. It feels like it requires every ounce of strength in your body to move. Yet, you manage to get up halfway. Only halfway though. Before you can make it to your full height, the sudden ring of your phone startles you so hard that you fall back to the floor instantly.

Your heart skips a beat as you hurriedly glance at your screen back again. Hoping it would be Daebi, calling to apologize for being so hostile. But as your eyes lock with the screen, you freeze entirely. World around you disappears. Your heartbeat slows down until your ears ring.

Incoming Call.

Caller ID- Jeongguk.

…………………………..

The scream that leaves your mouth is inhuman. You hurl your phone so hard it bumps against the leg of your bed. You faintly hear the cracking sound but absolutely can’t bring yourself to care.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. Thiscan’tbehappening.

You push yourself further against the wall. Wrapping your arms around your figure protectively. Wide eyes horrifyingly looking at your phone just lay down few feet away from you. Still ringing. You chant the word ‘no’ to yourself like it’s a mantra to stop this from happening.

This isn’t happening.

The phone stops ringing. The vibration which has been filling the silence of the room dies down. Everything becomes still. Quiet. Only sound in the room is your hard breathing. You wait few minutes. Patiently until something else happens. Nothing. So, you slowly start to shift. Placing your palms down on the cold floor as you crawl toward your phone. Slowly and carefully. As if your phone would attack you any minute. It doesn’t and you pick it up. The screen is cracked as you knew it would. That’s not your concern, however. You unlock the phone slowly. Your heart stops for a second time. A new sob erupting through your throat.

There’s a notification indicating you have one missed call from Jeongguk from Perfect Partner. But you uninstalled the application. Then there it is. The Perfect Partner. On your home screen. Like it always has been.

No.

Your head is spinning so hard. You mindlessly proceed to uninstall it again. The notification of warning pops up again. You press the yes again. It uninstalled. A moment passes.

And your phone rings.

Caller ID; Jeongguk.

“No. No. Holy fuck no.” You’re a complete mess. Crying hard and trembling like a leaf. You decline the call, just to find the application back on your phone. You’re acting as a crack head. Uninstalling the same app over and over again. Cursing and crying. Like you’re stuck in a loop. You have no idea how long you’ve done it. But after one moment, you receive a text instead of the call.

Jeongguk:

You can’t escape me baby. Stop trying to do that.

You’re hurting my feelings now. C’mon answer the phone

now. I promised we would talk and figure things out. No need

be so stubborn. (11. 14 p.m.)

You stare at the message. Your mind is not registering the words. This is a nightmare. You’ll wake up any minute now. Then everything will be fine.

Incoming call.

You don’t even decline it. You feel exhausted. Another text message pops on.

Jeongguk:

C’mon princess. Don’t do this now. You know I

Love you. You know I care about you. You shouldn’t

have gone to that stupid party without my knowledge.

None of this would’ve happened then. But I promise I’ll

Forgive you if you answer your phone. (11. 16 p.m.)

You feel numb. Tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably.

‘Love’?

What is even happening? How is this possible? You can’t feel your hands. What’s happening to you? You need help. Yes. That’s what you should do. You should call Daebi. Or Nina. Or Jimin. Then you can ask them to take you to a police station. You fumble with your phone as you decline another call from Jeongguk. At this point you don’t try to get rid of the app anymore. It’s useless. Instead, you open the contacts hastily. Dial Daebi. Waits for the call to connect. It doesn’t. You try again. Then again and again. It doesn't connect. So, you try Nina’s number and Jimin’s after. What the hell is wrong with this stupid thing? Why can’t you reach anyone? You have to decline three more calls from Jeongguk. And just as you’re about to try Daebi’s number one more time, your phone pings with another message.

Jeongguk:

Don’t fucking do this, now, all right?

Don’t try to avoid me and call someone else

you ungrateful bitch. Answer the damn phone right

now (___). Don’t fucking make me the bad guy because

I don’t want to be that person. I love you and we will

talk this out.  (11. 16 p.m.)

You don’t think it’s possible to cry anymore. But you do. Your entire body is covered with your own tears and sweat. How he’s doing that, you have no idea. But it’s him. He doesn’t let you call anyone. But you can still run. Yes, you feel lightheaded and weak. Still, you can leave this place. That’s what you’re about to do when your phone vibrates yet again. This time it’s a normal call, however. From an unknown number. A new cry makes it way. For some unexplainable reason, you know to whom this number belongs. Call it a gut feeling. You shouldn’t pay any mind to that and leave. You don’t. You have no idea what you are doing as you answer the call. Pressing the phone to your ear.

“Thank fuck. (___), listen to me, okay? We will talk. Don’t hang up pretty. I warn─”

“Nooo.” You scream aloud as you hang up the phone. Your phone is hacked. That’s how he does that. You need to get rid of your entire damn thing. You smash the phone into the wall across the room. It shatters. That’s not enough. No. No. No. You take your hairbrush as you get to your unstable legs. Crouch down next to your phone. Use every strength left in your body as you hit the handle to your phone repeatedly. Again, and again until there’s nothing left but shards.

Then you get to your feet back. Storm away from your bedroom without even looking back. You stumble toward the front door. Your legs are still shaky and your mind hazy. Still, you make it. Make it out of your apartment. And make it to the place of your most trusted person’s place, somehow.

…………………………….

“Are you crazy?”

“Nononono…. You don’t get it Daebi. I’m telling you the truth!”

“Dude how’s that possible? An AI? I use the same app (___), I never experienced anything like this. What do you mean, you’re getting stalked or haunted by a bot?” Dabei chuckles.

“Maybe someone hacked my information. I don’t know. But it happened and I’m scared to death Daebi.” You walk toward her, shaking your head. Trying to touch her but she recoils. You wince. “D-daebi.”

“No. No girl. This makes no sense. You’re scaring me too.”

“Well, you should be scared. You need to uninstall that app before it happens to you too.” You try to touch her again. This time she takes a step back. And shouts so loud that you jump.

“NO!. No (___), you’re crazy. You need to see a doctor.”

“I’m not CRAZY!” You yell back too. “I’m telling you the fucking truth. Just take me to a police station.”  

“AND TELL THEM WHAT?”

Everything falls into deafening silence. Fresh tears roll down your cheeks. Oh, how you want her to believe you. “Daebi.” You break into a huge cry. And finally, she comes closer to you. In a minute, you find yourself in her embrace.

“It’s okay (___), we will figure this out, okay? We’ll see a doctor the first thing tomorrow.” She pats your back. Affectionately. You sob into her shoulder.

“But I’m not sick.” Maybe you are.

“Yeah, I know. You just need a little help, that’s it. Let’s figure this out tomorrow, all right? Let’s just go home for now.” You pull away from her at light speed. What did she say now? Home?

“No. No… I can’t go back there.”

“Hey, hey, (___), listen to me there’s no one there. It’s just you’re scared for no reason.”

“Okay, but why can’t I stay here?” You watch Daebi’s face twist into something guilty. She gnaws on her bottom lip as she takes you in. Sighs.

“There’s things that have changed while you’ve been distant (___). I- uh kind of need to be somewhere else and I can’t cancel it.” She stretches an arm to touch you. This time it’s you who recoil. Nothing she says make sense to you. “I’m sorry babe, but I promise you I’ll see you early in the morning. Besides, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll drop you off on my way out. And I’ll tell you everything too.” Gives you a soft smile. You find no comfort in it. You feel betrayed. Maybe you deserve that because you were the one who shut yourself off from her life. But still, she can’t disregard you this easily. She won’t even listen to you.

And why can’t you stay here even if she’s not home. You can stay here.

You don’t want to go back to your place.

You allow her to turn you around. You’re not convinced in the least that there’s nothing to be afraid of. There definitely is. So, you force yourself to trust her. Believe that you’ll be fine.

……………………………

You stand in the middle of your living room. Daebi has done a thorough search of your entire apartment. Found nothing like you expected. Then she had left you here. Alone. You know she found nothing. She reassured you there was nothing. But the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. There’s goosebumps across your skin. You feel a chill running down your spine. This place doesn’t feel like your apartment anymore. It’s strange. Everything is strange.

You’re terrified of this place. You can’t even make it to your kitchen let alone your bedroom. It’s like there’s some danger lurking around the dark corners of the apartment. You feel like a kid who’s being paranoid about a monster hiding under their bed. This is ridiculous. You draw in a deep breath. Wipe down the tears that are wetting your cheeks with the back of your palm. Curl your hands into fists.

There’s nothing here.

Daebi checked, remember?

You’re completely fine.

With a last nod to yourself, you steel yourself. Turning around and walking toward your bedroom.

Daebi checked there. It was completely empty.

You take little steps toward the dark room.

It all happened through your phone. You destroyed it. Now it’s all fine.

You stand in the doorway to your room. It’s completely dark. Gives you that fear of uncertainty. What if there will be someone once you switch on the lights.

No. No, this is not a movie. Daebi checked.

You step inside the room and reach for the switch panel blindly. Hold your breath as you flip the switch on. Your entire body tenses, expecting the worse. The entire room comes to your vision. Empty. No one is there. You let out the breath you’ve been holding. Not completely, though.

Just as you are beginning to relax, you feel it. It’s a sensation. Behind you. Like someone is there. Then you hear it. A faint sound of something cracking. No, maybe it’s sound of footsteps. Then you feel warmth behind you. Then a breath.

“Hi pretty!”

You open your mouth to scream, but a hand clamps down over it. Silencing you up.

“I tried to be patient, my princess. It’s not my fault that you’re a stubborn lying cunt. But I love you. Oh, fuck I do.”

……………………………….

Twelve months ago (after the breakup)

“Are you serious? You’d walk this far for her? I’m almost jealous.” Daebi huffs, glancing at the papers scattered across the table. It’s a well-planned scheme. Not ordinary. Completely out of a movie.  

“Yes, I will. And now it’s your time pay off your debt, Daebi.” The guy in black hoodie waves a USB in front of her face. It has a threat. Everyone makes mistakes and Daebi had made one that would risk her entire life. From her career to her relationship.

“All right, okay? I never said I wouldn’t now, did I?”

“That’s good.”

“But- why this way, Jungkook. Approach her like a normal human being.”

The guy takes off his hoodie. His piercings glint under the dim, flickering light.

“You think she’d forgive me? No, Daebi. I ruined her life. She hates me. But I still want her, I fucking love her and yes, I’d Walk any length.” Jungkook gives a soft smile to the bitch of a woman who you’d like to call your best friend.

“And you think this would work? She won’t recognize you just because you have some piercings now?” Daebi points.

“She won’t. It’s been too long. I’ll make sure that she won’t until it’s time. We are meant to be together. She’ll understand it once I get a hold of her. I just want a creative way to approach her. Earn her trust and convince her that she belongs with me.”

Daebi always knew this guy was crazy. There’s no need to do all of these. But he loves the play. Daebi knows it. It’s not just about you hating him. She doesn’t think you even remember what happened. It’s simply this guy likes to fuck with people’s mind. Having complete control. It’s sad. Jungkook loves hunting and you are the prey. Yet Daebi can’t do anything. She can’t.

“Don’t worry Daebi. I’ll take good care of your heart broken friend. People like you don’t deserve her anyway. Do your job.” Jungkook gets to his feet.

“What if it doesn’t work? I mean what if she finds out? Felt suspicious and get rid of the app? You can’t hold it against me? Okay?” Jungkook lets out a maddening laugh. Leans down. Places his palms on the table.

“She. Won’t. I know what I’m doing. And I’m a tech genius Daebi. There’s no holes in this plan. Just give me the access and I’ll take care of the rest─” Jungkook’s voice get interrupts by a phone ringing. Daebi’s. Both of their eyes fall on the phone on the table. Screen up.

Hoseok

Daebi answers the phone.

“Hey Baby- yes, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Jungkook smirks. You deserve far better, and he’ll make sure to give you that.

***************

[seumyo]

bakugou’s never been happier to do this alongside you.

The sound of Bakugou’s ringtone—specifically one for those calls—the kind that only came when villains decided to cause trouble at ungodly hours—jolted him awake on the second ring. The kind that meant neither of you were getting any more sleep.

He groaned loudly, his voice raspy from sleep. “Son of a—” He didn’t even finish the curse as he snatched his phone and squinted at the glowing screen. “What the hell is it this time?”

Beside him, you stirred, mumbling groggily as you pulled the blanket over your head. “Is it another one?” you asked sleepily, your voice muffled.

Bakugou ignored you for the moment, his phone pressed to his ear as the barking voice of the dispatcher filled the room. His brows furrowed deeper, his scowl turning deadly as he listened to the report. “Villains in the old district? At this hour? Those bastards don’t sleep or somethin’? Yeah, yeah—I got it. We’ll be there.”

He slammed the phone down on the bed, letting out a deep sigh as he scrubbed a hand down his face. “Goddamn it. I hate this stupid job.”

You let out a small laugh beneath the blanket. “Liar.”

Bakugou glared at the lump of fabric that was you—his partner. “What’d you just say?”

“You heard me,” you teased, peeking out just enough for him to see the drowsy smile on your face—which can barely be seen with the dim light of the moonlight outside the bedroom window. “You love this job, Kats. You’d combust without it.”

“Like hell I would,” he muttered, standing up and running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m only outta bed ‘cause I don’t trust those extras not to screw up.”

“You’re up because you want to. Big difference.”

“Whatever.” Bakugou shot you a glance over his shoulder. “Hurry your ass up. Don’t got time for you to sit there all cozy like we ain’t got villains to blow up.”

You didn’t budge.

“Give me two minutes. I just need to—hey!”

Bakugou had moved without warning, stomping back to the bed and scooping you up in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised squeak as he effortlessly picked you up, blanket and all, and cradled you against his chest.

“Katsuki!” you protested, trying to wriggle free. “What are you doing?!”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, barely sparing you a glance as he carried you toward the door. “You’re slow as hell when you’re tired. This’ll save time.”

“You can’t just carry me every time we get called in!”

“Watch me.”

He stomped down the hallway, his bare feet thudding against the wooden floor, while his voice dipped into a string of curses. “Stupid villains. Stupid middle-of-the-night calls. Stupid hero work. I’m gonna blast whoever’s causing this into the next century.”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter now, your head falling back against his shoulder. “You sound like a cranky old man.”

“Keep talkin’ and I’m droppin’ you,” Bakugou threatened. “Why the hell are you laughin’? Think this is funny?”

“Very. You’re like my happy pill.”

“Yeah? And you’re heavy,” he grumbled, though the way he carried you effortlessly said otherwise.

“Excuse me?!”

A corner of Bakugou’s mouth quirked up as he looked down at you, amusement flickering in his eyes despite his perpetual scowl. “I didn’t say nothin’. Quit wastin’ time.”

You smiled against his shoulder, listening to him grumble about this whole ordeal. He sounded pissed—like the world had wronged him personally by waking you two up—but you could see the truth in his actions. His grip was steady, his movements careful as he carried you to where your hero gear was waiting. It was such a Bakugou thing to do: grumble and complain, but still take care of you without hesitation.

By the time you make it to the gear room, Bakugou carefully sets you down on your feet. You wobbled slightly from the sudden shift, and Bakugou’s hand instinctively shot out to steady you.

“Oi, don’t fall on me now.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you murmured, rubbing your eyes before turning to grab your hero suit. “You’re way too grumpy for someone who just carried me all the way here. Admit it—you love being a hero.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“You do, though,” you teased, already halfway into your gear. “I know you do.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, but he didn’t argue. Instead, his voice softened just enough to make you pause. “I wouldn’t do this job if it meant leavin’ you to deal with shit alone.”

You stilled, looking at him from the corner of your eye. He was standing by the doorway now, fully suited up and waiting for you, his face set in his usual determined scowl. But something about the way he looked at you, about the small, unspoken truths in his words, made your chest feel warm.

“Y’know, you’re so sweet to me at the most inconvenient times. Why can’t you say things like that when I don’t look like I’ve been ran over by a truck because I’m sleep deprived?”

“Die.”

“Is that your way of saying you love me too, Ka-tsu-ki?”

He scoffed. “Hurry up, dumbass. We’ve got work to do.”

“Ha! You didn’t deny it, so I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Shut up, you’re annonyin’.”

You smiled faintly, finishing the last of your preparations before walking over to him. “But you love me.”

“Of fucking course,” Bakugou said, opening the door and stepping out into the brisk night air. “Let’s go. Those idiots could only hold out for so long ‘cause they really had to call us in.”

You followed close behind, still smiling to yourself as you fell into step next to him. Despite his grumbles, despite the curses under his breath, Bakugou had never been happier. Because at the end of the day, no matter how ungodly the hour, you were always there—and as far as he was concerned, nothing else mattered.

Because he loves this job—especially when he’s doing it alongside you.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[afterglowsainz]

Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻

jealousy | jude bellingham

obsessed with this concept already !!

summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it

warnings: none

word count: 738

a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3

you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.

“someone dm you.” he says.

his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.

“who?”

“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.

“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.

jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.

“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.

“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.

when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.

some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.

he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.

“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.

you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.

“sure.” you say.

he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.

when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.

“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.

“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.

“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.

“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”

“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”

jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.