#I’m sobbing so hard guys you don’t even KNOW

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s5 episode 1 thoughts

bouncing. bouncing up and down. off of the walls. this episode was SO good. thank you. everyone say thank you, chris carter. thank you for fainting scully, tomato lover scully, doctor scully, crying mulder, plotting mulder, breaking and entering mulder, and for skinner in general.

but back to who i was before yesterday... allow us to return to past juni.

it’s been 800 years… (and by that i mean a week and 2 days have passed since i last watched an episode)

we left off in a pretty… precarious position. so i’m interested to see where things go from here. and hopefully they will be less stressful.

but i’m so happy to be back! i swear once i finish this show i’ll have to quit my job. there will be nothing to get me through LMAO.

it sounds like mulder is going to do some breaking and entering… again, fork spotted in kitchen

how the HELL did he fake his own death… this is giving sherlock!!

god, hearing her voice trembling again as she talks about identifying his body… i did not need to relive this pain!!

so we go back to him crying and watching alien stuff on his couch the night before her big meeting

“an act of faith began with an ineloquent certainty that my journey promised the chance not just of understanding, but of recovery” <- oh… so he admits to the whole thing being about healing…

and he says that he hoped finding the truth would reunite him with his sister, which i KNOW he was thinking all along, but hearing him SAY IT is still devastating; the way he never actually said it aloud before was very impactful, and so is his decision to break that vow of silence

“a belief which i now know to be false and uninformed in the extreme” <- NOOO please do not give up my king… i do not entirely believe this kritshcgau fool

he’s sobbing. he's so pretty when he sobs even if it is sad.

“my folly revealed by facts which illuminate both my arrogance and self-deception” <- oh no… i wanted him to Realize he was being Like That... but not in this way…

so he picks up the gun, saying it would be easier to end this journey if the pain had just been his own… and oh my god......

but then the phone rings… and it’s kritshcgau? he’s trying to explain that he might have been followed after leaving his apartment, but mulder does not give a FUCK LMAO

he wants to know who this man is and if they really gave scully cancer because of him. understandable.

he’s looking around for bugs in his room as he is warned of what’s going on…. and he finds one on the ceiling!! and not the insect kind, the camera kind!!!

mulder finds someone upstairs watching him on camera and burning stuff, but then this mystery guy picks up his shotgun and shoots mulder??? maybe?? it’s hard to tell??? strategic cutoff??

(i assume it’s shotgun guy from before, but frankly i don’t remember what his face looked like, so. listen! a lot can happen in a week and two days)

ah, it feels so nice to be watching the intro again. nature is healing… and by nature i mean me.

scully gets home at midnight, checking her voicemail… she starts to get undressed for bed

“keep going, FBI woman” <- WHAT THE FUCK. 

IT’S MULDER??? she’s soooo GAGGED LMAOOO THE LOOK ON HER FACE???? i’m howling 

MULDER BABY YOU CANNOT JUST SAY THAT WHEN YOU BREAK INTO SOMEONE'S HOUSE. BAD BOY (sprays with water) (sprays with water) (sprays with-

“mulder? what are you doing? why are you sitting in my bedroom in the dark?” <- a VERY reasonable question!!!!

he says there’s a dead guy in his apartment. she’s had ENOUGH of his shenanigans, and he clarifies that he is NOT joking

he had been under surveillance for at least 2 months!!!!! that is freaky omggg… god only knows what they saw him doing

he says that he can’t talk to anyone at the bureau because this whole hoax leads back to the FBI!!!

HOLD ON PAUSE. WHY THE FUCK DOES SCULLY HAVE A POSTER OF DIFFERENT TOMATOES ON HER APARTMENT WALL. HOLD ON I’M FUCKING CRYING. STOP. THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY. oh my gooood. 

she saw a poster of tomatoes and said you know what? this would look FANTASTIC in my apartment. 

god, scully, you truly are the best character of all time. i had no idea you felt so strongly about the humble tomato. 

i cannot complain about anything else that happens in this episode, i’m out of breath from laughing. oh my god. this is gonna get me through so much. tomorrow i’m gonna go to work and a customer is gonna yell at me and i’m just gonna smile thinking about scully’s tomato poster.

i don’t even really remember what was happening. 

okay, right, so the guy whose apartment was above mulder’s, he was destroying records of himself calling the FBI. so who in the FBI was he calling?? and must it be the one who is behind all of this??

“i will not allow this treason to prosper- not if they’ve done this to you” he says <- OKAYYYY!!! protective man is in his protective mode 🔥 you truly do LOVE to see it. it’s almost as good as scully in doctor more but let’s be honest, nothing can ever beat that.

ohhh, he says they can lie back to them!!!! sneaky sneaky man... your fox-like nature is showing

so it was HIS IDEA to have her come and make the ID on his "body" even though it was false!!??

so she was ACTING in that meeting??? WAS SCULLY A THEATRE KID?? because she sold that for real!!!!

he’s going on about how he’s asking her to lie so they can find out who this enemy from within is….

scully runs into skinner after identifying the body, who asks if it’s true that mulder is really dead, and she lies, saying yes. he wants to know if she’s okay, and she pulls the “i don’t know what to say” card, which is entirely understandable.

he asks how she made the ID if he died from a shot to the head, so she says she saw him earlier that morning and he was wearing the same clothes. and there’s a look skinner has into the distance as he tries to determine how and why they would have seen each other before 6:30 am. like you could see the gears turning in his head as if he was saying omg, so they WERE together this whole time. it’s comical, in a way. 

which also leads me to wonder, well i’m no expert in these things, but if you know someone long enough, wouldn’t you recognize them even sans face? by body alone? 

he says he’s very sorry. and when she tries to leave he very sternly calls out “agent scully >:| section chief blah blah blah thinks you’re hiding stuff” (paraphrased obviously)

skinner looks SOOO suspicious of whatever she's plotting lmaooo. and he is right to be!

meanwhile, a very alive mulder is going to the department of defense to scout some advanced research using the dead guy’s ID!! ooooo high stakes, high stakes!!!! he's narrating that if they’re busted, they’re done for good!!

now scully is in the office with the section chief. and he’s talking about someone from the DOD giving her classified information. 

they ask her for information and she’s clearly hiding stuff…. but she identifies kritshcgau!!! omg i didn't think she was going to!!

uh oh… kritshcgau sees mulder in the DOD!! “hey! how’d you get in here?” “through the front door” <- lmao he can never be serious!!

kritshcgau tells mulder to come with him… is this a trap??? 

he’s gagged because that card gives mulder LEVEL FOUR CLEARANCE which i take is a BIG DEAL

yes, it is, because it would give him access to EVERYTHING!! even the thing he wants most of all… the cure for scully’s cancer!! you can see the tears forming in his eyes at the thought… oh man. ohhh mulder…

cancer man has burst into mulder’s apartment… now what are you doing here, you freak???

OHHHH he finds a photo of mulder and samantha on his desk when they were kids... ohhhh... my heart 😭😭😭😭😭

(there’s also some art on the wall of mulder's apartment that i can’t make the details out on. one piece seems to be some sort of pastoral scene with a sheep in it? and the other seems to be abstract. does anyone know what they are? i mean, it’s no tomato poster. but still)

CSM is actually crying seeing this photo and the blood he presumes to be mulder's on the carpet, and i don’t know if he feels genuine sadness or is just heartbroken his decades long alien colonization plan has been thwarted. honestly i do think he’s sad about mulder. he seemed to be in love with both mr. and mrs. mulder tbh, and that can do things to a guy. 

he finds the secret ceiling camera...

scully is in mulder’s office now, calling someone. she pulls out the phone number shotgun guy had been calling!! holly answers it and says she is so sorry to hear about what happened to mulder…. but scully has no time to talk about these things

who is this holly? how does she know scully? are they friends? i need the backstory.

scully… you are so beautiful…. holding this paper and calling holly on the phone, telling her when the calls were placed so she can track down who shotgun man called a million times…..

OH GOD!!! IT’S SKINNER’S EXTENSION!!!

scully looks devastated by this… but just as she begins to process it all, the scientist calls her back about the ice!! she has so much on her mind, please do not make her come look at some damn ice 😭

now, i do not believe that skinner is really behind all this. if he is involved at all, it is because he made that deal with CSM to try and save her... and maybe he was tricked, but he did NOT do it willingly!

kritshcgau and mulder are talking about level four, which apparently a place and not just a classification, and is home to medical facilities!! and vast quantities of DNA storage!! from every person who has ever given blood or tissue since ww2!!! 

damn that’s crazy. how tf would you even store all that?? it’s gotta be a warehouse.

he’s saying this is the hoax into which mulder was drawn…. the US fanned the flames of UFO stories to draw attention away from the whole “mutually assured destruction” thing, which, well, not sure how well that worked out 

OPPENHEIMER MENTIONED‼️him and that damn hat…

(actually still haven’t seen that movie btw. sorry i guess. idk. i’m busy)

KHRUSHCHEV APPEARS ‼️i love to see a familiar face from my textbooks in my TV programs. it's like a crossover event.

kritshcgau says the business of america isn’t business at all, it’s war. well yeah. that is true. and the cold war was an excuse to keep spending military money with no war. which i guess that sort of maybe tracks??

writing off korea and vietnam as just countries squaring off “a few times” is kinda crazy, but his point is: no one used the big bomb.

mulder asks what we are all thinking: what does this have to do with UFOs?

well, let kritshcgau tell you, son. after roswell, the more the government denied about UFOs, the more the public believed them, which was great timing for a country developing supersonic flight

oooo, he claims they almost got caught in korea, as they were accused of using germ warfare. but it’s nothing like what they have now, like what was used for the gulf war, developed in this very building! (said with a very dramatic flourish)

this is a lot of world building at a breakneck pace, and i don’t even know if i’m supposed to believe any of it. maybe some secret top percentage of the government thinks this is true, and the tiny syndicate knows it actually isn’t. that’s my best guess.

the abductions actually did happen, he clarifies, but not by aliens. hmm. a top secret project. well without aliens what's the point?

kritshcgau says it’s about DNA control. but for what purpose???

mulder asks, why make a whole fake alien body for all this then? and kritshcgau says because scully wouldn’t have been alive to disprove the alien body if their timing had been correct!!! so he would have believed it, then they could discredit him!

kritshcgau also says his son coming back sick from the gulf war is his retribution for going along with all of this, and he's thinking there’s a cure for him somewhere in there. well i think the whole gulf war disease and advanced cancer are very different. but maybe they both have secret cures?

off mulder goes, into level 4, taking one last look at kritshcgau, who is immediately apprehended by the DOD for questioning!!!! i feel that this will be the last we see of him.

cutscene to someone racing a horse?? is it bestie well groomed man?? and his many horses??

no!! it’s the department chair guy meeting with CSM!!! CSM is pissed that he didn’t know someone was watching mulder, but the chairman denies it.

he is even MORE pissed about being cut out of this project; “i CREATED mulder” <- okay so that is not putting out the “CSM is actually his father” allegations

chair guy says that mulder is dead

OHHH BUT CSM SAYS “i’ve never underestimated mulder. i still don’t” <- DAMN!!! that’s absolutely wild… i guess it’s important to know your opponent, and how willing they would be to fake their death, and if they could pull it off or not

(CSM angrily leaves)

back to scully at the ice core guy’s lab. and again, oh my god, she’s beautiful. no no no i don’t want to hear about fetal bovine serum. what the hell does that even mean. go back to her beautiful face.

he put the junk from the ice core in the serum... the cells were dividing… into somatic development?? the beginning of a life form. she looks shocked by this, but again. idk what that means!

bleugh, the ice core sample creature... it looks ugly…….

mulder’s snooping about the level 4 area, but the DOD people are behind him, and none of the doors have opened!!! he says that if they find the cure, it will mean for sure that he has believed in a lie from the start. well, i don’t think that’s true necessarily. i mean, the abduction thing could be from an alien-government collaboration, or aliens could still be out there, just not involved with this one thing, you know?

he picks a lock (okay!! crazy skyrim reference) and finds himself in a very dark room. and i am attracted to him. don't worry about it. anyway, whatever he sees seems to shock him???

cut to a TON of CGI aliens on cots LMAO WHAT???? just laying out n about 😭 it had to smell so bad in there… i imagine aliens smell very bad

now this alien closest to him has been lovingly crafted with practical effects, which is much better. so we can see his slime. that is not the part that is better, the slime visibility; its just that practical effects look more visually convincing in such a case

scully is narrating that she had no way to reach him and talk about their discovery of an unidentified life form. which is what happens when you fake your death and go in the secret medical facility of doom.

why is he TOUCHING the nasty alien body???? EUGH!!!!!!

scully is pondering if this thing she found in the serum could be the proof of an alien or the proof of a hoax… a lot of big questions for her to handle here 

he sees some flashing lights deep in the secret corridor, and follows it…. a whole lot of strobe light action going on in here. that stuff doesn't even bother me and i was like damn, that was a lot. i imagine it was much worse for the people who already have issues with bright lights.

she says that maybe this thing in the ice core sample is biologically connected to her cancer?? 

how does this connect to all of those half-alien, half-human people they found back in arizona??!!

beautiful man is looking through the window… 

OH MY GOD HE SEES A BUNCH OF WOMEN BEING SCANNED????? WITH BRIGHT FLASHING LIGHTS?? oh man.... WHAT IS GOING ON???? what are they DOING??

what did they call it before?? inducing mega ovulation?? yikes.

BLEUGH. i paused here as scully was getting blood drawn. i am woozy. how do they fake that for filming??

she needs a southern blot, btw. if that means anything to you. to compare that culture to her own DNA.

belaughhh. she needs the match before 7. he says we can’t do that.

“it’s got to happen. everything in my life depends on it” <- YOU TELL HIM!!!

he has no idea wtf that means but is taken aback by her seriousness

NOW WHY IS SKINNER WATCHING THIS????

OHHH SHE GOES OUT AND CONFRONTS HIM!! “is this more dirty work you’re doing for the DOD??” <- OHHHHH she is NOT HOLDING BACK

he says he has the tests from the body they found in mulder’s apartment on his desk; he knows it isn't him!!! and as she compounds the lies, she compounds the consequences!!!!

OHHHHH THAT WHOLE SCENE WAS SOOOOO JUICY I’M GONNA TEAR OUT MY HAAAAAIR

“all lies lead to the truth, isn’t that right?”

“and what about your lie, agent scully? what does it lead to?”

“the truth- about the men behind what happened to me, about my abduction and the tests, about being exposed to something against my will, about being put on a table and having something implanted in me and then having my memory stolen, only to have it returned along with a disease that i was given.” (ohh she was getting more and more furious as she said this and it was SO good)

“is that your justification? if that what you’re going to tell the joint panel tonight?”

“are you afraid of that?” <- OHHH her mocking and accusatory tone… i need it bottled

“well, considering the dead man in mulder’s apartment was murdered in cold blood and you willfully misidentified him, yes, i am afraid. but i’m only afraid for you” (<- and i do believe him, that he is scared to watch her proceed in this way, almost recklessly, even though it's calculated)

“you’re going to use that against me, aren’t you? you’re going to use me as i’ve been used all along- to preserve the lies”

“where is agent mulder?”

(she walks away)

WOOO baby, that scene was ACTING!! the tight closeups on their face was crazy, and it def could have backfired had they not been so freaking talented. every microexpression spoke a thousand words. i feel energized just watching it!!

jumping up and down. jumping up and down. we are sooooo back.

ohhh she goes into the lab herself to do the testing… in her lab coat… and her goggles… spinning the blood around… i’m faint…

meanwhile, mulder's walking through some weird pipes?? 

AUGH, there’s something IN HER BLOOD WATER, and she says it could be a connection between the conspirators and the cancer in her blood…. well to me it looks like a worm

he finds a new secret door and enters with a hand in his pocket, looking around... tension!!!

she’s ready to blow open this whole conspiracy!! ooooo you'd better stand back and watch it happen!

(they’re narrating all of this because this is a tv show and that is how an audiovisual media works, but i find it funny to imagine them speaking into a voice recorder as they describe their highly illegal activities)

he reaches the end of the mystery space and finds a ton of filing cabinets??? so he’s going to the scully file. he finds hers!!! it is a paper with a bunch of letters on it. which clears up nothing

and he pulls one out for kritschgau’s son as well!!! but it looks like his is blank???

someone from the DOD calls CSM to say that “scott” (mulder with the dead guy's ID card) made his way into the pentagon!! so he’s off to go find him. stay away from him, freak...

scully is rolling some sort of paper after soaking the mixture of stuff from her blood. you’re confused, i’m confused, i’m fascinated as to how this was explained for filming purposes, but here we are

“if my work with agent mulder has tested the foundation of my beliefs, science has been and continues to be my guiding light” <3

“now i’m again relying on its familiar and systematic methods to arrive at a truth- a fact that might explain the fate that has befallen me”

i love that she sees science as familiar and systematic; she really seems to be someone that values those aspects of stability, of knowing what can and cannot be true, and as the world grows more and more complex as they unravel the conspiracies, she turns to what she knows she can rely on. it reminds me in a way about how she values the comfort of a home, of the known, of what can be experienced and understood. she seems to thrive on that sort of knowledge, and i relate to it. something steady to keep her afloat, you know? it also speaks to her rigidity in following the rules. there is order and structure that maintains things, and that can be a great comfort, or a terrible hindrance if it is used for evil. but she, deep down, believes that there still is fundamental good. the rules, the science, the facts, the comfort of them all. it’s a terribly scary world; her biggest fear is what others are capable of. of course there is comfort in the known and the material. i like that a lot.

she hopes to match the virus from the mystery organism to the stuff in her cells, which would mean that her cancer has a cause, even if a cure is unknown! and maybe then they could find a cure to the virus thingy...? is this wishful thinking??

“if science serves me to these ends, it is not lost on me that the tool which i’ve come to depend on absolutely cannot save or protect me, but only bring into focus the darkness that lies ahead” <- hey. hey ouch. pain.

i refuse to consider such a possibility. there are too many more seasons ahead.

back to mulder in the labyrinth, looking for stuff that matches the numbers on her card. ough… why does his hair look so good…

anyway, he finds some sort of liquid

OH scully has done it!!! she’s mixed her DNA with the viral DNA from the cell!! oh, the ice core doctor guy is SHOCKED to learn that she has stuff in her that was also in the CANADIAN ALIEN MOUNTAINS!!

she explains that she believes she was exposed to this material that gave her an illness… and when he asks what kind, all she says is that it cannot be cured. damn. that was very dark.

so mulder finds this little vial of stuff with the specific numbers on it?? in a tiny tiny little bottle?

is it shots shots shots shots time??

he’s leaving from the pentagon, and in a voice over monologue, points out that he is as dependent upon her as she is upon him for the cure!!! as now she must convince the committee of her story!!!

she goes into the meeting room, bracing herself…. and she begins where we began in the last episode!!!! and now we know WHY she is reporting on the illegitimacy of his work!! ah, it is sweet relief to know there was no backstabbing between them

mulder is trying to sneak out… but his card swipe isn’t working…. and the military guys enter!!! 

can he play it cool?? can he beat them in a fight??? well, it FINALLY works, and one thing he can do is run!! and he manages to!!!!

GASP! CSM sees mulder leave, and says to let him go!! he seems almost relieved to see mulder alive and with this mystery liquid

and scully’s doing her oscar-winning performance about identifying a body. an absolute serve.

but skinner comes in just as she says this…. 

her eyes are filled with tears as she pulls out the evidence… (which is just two lines on paper, but you KNOW she is going to explain it)

and she notes that the whole thing was “planned and executed by someone in this room”, seeming to blame it all on skinner… oh my god…

OH MY GOD SHE’S STARTING HER PRESENTATION AND HER NOSE STARTS TO BLEED???

SHE FAINTS?????? and SKINNER CATCHES HER????

she looks at him and says “you…..” before passing back out <- WHAT DID SHE WANT TO SAY TO HIM??!??!?!?!?!

mulder is with the lone gunmen analyzing the mystery liquid…. and it’s water??

hold on, i had to rewatch her fainting and skinner catching her… how he starts to hold her face but stops himself… the way she says “you” so quietly… and then she loses consciousness again… oh my god… to be caught by the person she thinks is killing her… 

and skinner… i don’t believe for a minute that he is behind this. how hurt he must be at her accusations, his terror in watching her march ahead recklessly and lie to these people who would kill her in a heartbeat, and actively ARE killing her, and he was the one that made the deal with the devil to try and get this to stop happening, but what if he’s only advanced the work of the devil and got nothing out of it for himself…? and she doesn't even trust him!!!!

i rewatched that scene 4 times. and it was amazing during each of them.

and mulder… with his water… mystery water in vials… what can it do?? is it really just water?? why tf would the government hide vials of water with incredibly specific numbering deep in the pentagon. i don't buy it.

oh man, we are SOOOOOO back!!!!! i am bouncing off the walls. i cannot WAIT to learn what happens next. the angst here was EXQUISITE.

i’m such a sucker for angst involving mulder/scully and skinner. it’s going to get me EVERY time. over and over and over again. it just punches me in the gut. and all the other stuff punches me in the gut too, but this one has a certain je ne sais quoi factor about it; is it the mentor/mentee relationship of it all?? the way they care about each other but don’t know how to express it?? how they go from being willing to die and to kill for each other and then suddenly that trust is entirely removed, back and forth, back and forth? oh, it’s like CATNIP to me.

scully fainting and him catching is already going to be on my list of favorite moments, i know it, i know myself too well.

AUGHHHHHAUAGGHHHHRAUGGHHHHHAUGHHHHHH i LOVE THIS SHOW see it can be SO GOOD WHEN IT WANTS TO BE!!!!!!!!!

the trickery!! the plotting!! the deception!! the mysteries within mysteries!!! i still think the aliens are real though!! what are they doing with those women?? giving then alien DNA so they can steal their eggs to make alien babies?? what is that oil stuff in mulder?? and where does krycek fit into this??? and again, those half alien things in arizona?? don’t tell me!! don’t tell me because i am excited to learn!!!

YEAHHHHH!!!

[whosthere54]

“Don’t hurt yourself for me”

[kavehater]

AAAH I have a mutual who’s 18 and he sorta kinda is flirting with this one guy who is a minor as a joke of course ( to which a concerned anon said that it’s weird ) but I can’t help but flashback to er*s

[skhardwarevers1]

that feeling when you want to post a rant/vent but it just feels like another attempt to get attention <<<<<<<<<(x one million)

[cleolinda]

Phone scam gothic

So my mom sits down and starts telling me about two weird-ass phone calls she had today—she was returning a missed call, and the woman who answered just… sobbed for a minute. I’m sitting here asking, like, a whole minute? Nothing else, just sobbing? Who did you THINK you were calling back?

“United Healthcare, they have my Medicare plan. They’ve been calling me for weeks without leaving any voicemail.”

(Are you sure it was United Healthcare? “It was the same number that’s on my card, I checked, and that’s who the caller ID said it was.”)

Are you sure it was a whole minute? Did YOU say anything?

“Yes, like sixty seconds while I kept going ‘Hello? Hello?’ It sounded like she was having a nervous breakdown, I kept waiting to see if she’d tell me what was even wrong. Finally I just hung up.”

And then my mom turned right around and called back again, because she was gonna get to the bottom of this.

This time she got a different woman, perfectly calm, who wanted to set up “your in-home direct patient care home health visit.”

At this point (at this point?) I’m staring, because no one here currently has anyone coming to the house to help with any kind of medical care. My mom might honestly be the healthiest member of the household, but even I don’t use any home services, herniated discs and all. “Did they have you… confused with someone else?”

“No, she repeated my full name and phone number back to me.”

This lady then started ARGUING with my mother. Why don’t you want us to come to your house to manage your direct patient care? Don’t you need home health care to be managed? Why don’t you need home health care? Why would you not want home health care? “I JUST KIND OF HAVE HIGH CHOLESTEROL?” But don’t you want us to manage your home health care? “WHY DO YOU NEED TO COME TO MY HOUSE TO MANAGE HEALTH CARE I DON’T USE?”

My mom finally hung up on this lady as well, without giving her any real information.

The more we talked about it, the more things we started to notice:

I was incredibly creeped out by the unsolicited use of the word “manage,” for some reason. Very sinister “write me into your will” vibes for some reason—I don’t know what these people want, but they’re gonna get you to sign something over.

My mom got especially stuck on “WHY DO YOU NEED TO COME TO MY HOUSE?!”

My mom has used home health services before… years ago, before she was on Medicare. But this company wouldn’t know about that. However, if you’re on Medicare, you’re over 65. Having not ever dealt with my mother before, someone calling a Medicare user might be playing the odds that a person over 65 is 1) in frail health and 2) old enough to get easily confused.

Fair play to my mom, she’s the one who thought of number spoofing. I’m so busy not answering the phone ever and arranging all my medical communications to happen through passworded portals that I didn’t think of it.

Hey, are you guys, like… holding someone hostage…?

So at this point, I google “United Healthcare scam.”

The “health insurance counselor”

This fraudster will offer help navigating the health insurance marketplace for a fee, capitalizing on people’s confusion about the state-based health exchanges created through the Affordable Care Act.

What to know

This sort of assistance is indeed available and is legitimate, but the people who offer it – also known as “navigators” – aren’t allowed to charge for their services. Also, remember that people with Medicare coverage don’t need to use the state health exchanges. The exchanges are for people under the age of 65, who are looking to enroll in an individual health plan.

Change “navigate” to “manage,” and I think this is it, although the lady on the phone never mentioned any fees. Either my mom didn’t let her get that far, or this is the point of actually getting into someone’s house: persuading them face-to-face to pay something, and potentially refusing to leave until the scammer has worn their target down.

Medicare does not make unsolicited phone calls.

Okay, so it was a scam no matter what it was about. As far as I’m concerned, my mom should contact Actual United Healthcare about it, and I’m here to spread the good word of Never Believing Anyone on the Phone 2k24. I don’t know what to tell you about the lady having the nervous breakdown though.

[norrisainz33]

Summer to Remember | MV33

☆ summary: in which Max surprises you during summer break 💍

☆ pairing: max verstappen x reader

☆ fc: none, pics from pinterest

☆ warnings: ever so slightly suggestive. you are responsible for the content you consume.

୨୧┈୨୧

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yourusername: strong first half of the season for my maxie! now its time to relax 🫶🏻🌊☀️

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user1: if you guys need another cat i can meow

user2: how he bagged such a baddie will always be beyond me

maxverstappen1: beach baby

yourusername: 🏝️🌊☀️

redbullracing: going to miss you for a couple weeks y/n!

yourusername: i’ll miss you too admin but dw ill dm you updates

redbullracing: 🫶🏻 my queen

user2: even the rbr admin is obsessed with her and honestly i get it

maxverstappen1 added to his private story

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danielricciardo: STAY CALM EVERYBODY STAY CALM YOU KNOW THE PROCEDURE

maxverstappen1: at least one of us is staying calm

danielricciardo: i’m so excited i could explode

landonorris: LETS GOOOOOOOOO

charlesleclerc: alex and i expect a call with updates directly after

maxverstappen1: don’t worry, i’m sure she’ll call alex before i’ve even finished asking her

martingarrix: ohhh it’s finally happening 🥹

yourusername made a post

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, iamrebeccad, alex_albon, and 486,780 others

yourusername: i don’t think im ever going to leave this place 😫

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oscarpiastri: lily will miss you too much if you don’t come home

yourusername: you make a good point

maxverstappen1: you don’t have to leave, i told you we could get a condo here

yourusername: ok mr solves all my problems

user3: making my partner take notes

user4: nah bc wtf where’s my man who just offers to buy me a second house

user5: i’m sleeping on the highway

bestie: if you need company i’d happily visit 😉

maxverstappen1 added to his private story

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landonorris: the suspense is killing me can’t you do it right now

maxverstappen1: patience lando!

danielricciardo: i have a countdown set on my phone. 23 hours, 6 minutes and 23 seconds left!

maxverstappen1: danny 😂

schecoperez: so excited for you mi amigo

maxverstappen1: 💙

maxverstappen1 added to his private story

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danielricciardo: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

alexandrasaintmleux: she looks so beautiful in white 🤍

charlesleclerc: good luck mate

landonorris: facetime me in rn

oscarpiastri: lily and i are sending our best 🧡

georgerussell63: go get that girl 💙

maxverstappen1 made a post

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, charlesleclerc, redbullracing, and 1,344,234 others

maxverstappen1: she said yes! y/n thank you for completing me, supporting me and loving me. i don’t think i ever truly knew what love was until you came along. i can’t wait to make you my wife 🤍

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user12: who is cutting onions

user14: not me sobbing over an instragram post

schecoperez: unbelievably happy for you both

landonorris: successfully did not spill the beans!

maxverstappen1: i know that was hard for you. thanks for keeping the secret and for helping me plan 😉

yourusername: i’ll always be your biggest fan. i love you to the moon and back my fiancé 💙

maxverstappen1: fiancé has a nice ring to it

danielricciardo: i love you both so much this is everything and more

yourusername: we love you more danny

danielricciardo: NOT POSSIBLE

maxverstappen1: couldn’t have done it without you mate

charlesleclerc: leo has agreed to be the ring bearer 💍

yourusername: that is the best news

user17: LEO IN THE WEDDNG?! STOPPPP

user18: this is going to be the wedding of the century

user19: seeing max happy makes me so happy

yourusername has made a post

liked by maxverstappen1, bestie, alexandrasaintmleux, redbullracing, and 454,789 others

yourusername: I AM GOING TO BE A WIFE!! the easiest yes i’ve ever said! I can’t even begin to explain how much i love you max, these past few years with you have been nothing short of a dream come true. i can’t wait to be your mrs. verstappen 🤍

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user22: i just fell to my knees in this walmart parking lot

maxverstappen1: i’ll love you to the end of time mrs. verstappen

yourusername: promise?

maxverstappen1: promise

georgerussell63: finally!!

charlesleclerc: i am so happy for you both - congratulations 💙

user16: this is my version of the royal wedding

alexandrasaintmleux: you are going to make the most beautiful bride 🫶🏻

yourusername: and you’re going to make the most beautiful maid of honor 🤍

user33: so true love does exist huh

redbullracing: is it too early to talk about making the next world champion

user24: AINT NO WAY LMFAO

user23: admin said get to work

୨୧┈୨୧

☆ a/n: hope you enjoyed!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

୨୧┈୨୧

© norrisainz33: please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[distantdarlings]

HIS OWN MEDICINE // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Your best friend, Pansy Parkinson, suggests fixing your boyfriend’s flirting problem by giving him a taste of his own medicine.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in v) Unprotected, spanking, top!theo, bottom!reader, fem!reader, mean dom, innocent reader?, degradation, name-calling, weird authoritative thing going on with Theo (idk), one (1) use of ‘daddy,’ mild breeding kink, flirting while in relationship, jealousy, not fully proof-read (lmk if I missed any!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

nobody - Toby Mai

- - -

“I don’t want to hear another fucking excuse, Theo!” you screamed, rage flushing your cheeks. It took everything in you not to strangle him right now.

After the third time catching him flirting with another girl, you were ready to walk again. You weren’t even sure how many times you’d broken up with him, and how many times he’d broken up with you.

But you were about to add another time.

“Please, baby, you know it’s not what you think,” he begged, trying to grab your hands. “She’s just a friend—we were just chatting.”

“Usually, you can chat with people without your hands wrapped around them! You seemed pretty fucking cozy with her!”

“Baby, come on…,” he cooed, trying to press some kisses to your fingers. Angry, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and tore out of the room. You heard the door slam behind you and ignored the gasps of shock as you shoved through a group of students moving in a unit down the hallway.

You could hardly stand that stupid man right now. If you saw his face again within the next 48 hours, you would punch him.

As you flew down the steps of the Slytherin dormitories and toward the mostly empty common room, you nearly knocked a petite woman over.

The two of you crashed into each other and grunted on impact.

“Watch where you’re going—Merlin! What are you doing down here, honey? Are you crying?”

It was Pansy, one of your best friends in the entire world. Though the tears had been pooling in your eyes since you stormed out of Theo’s dorm, her question had pushed you over the edge. An angry sob left your lips.

“Oh no! What happened?” she cried, wrapping you up in her small frame. Shamelessly, you wept into the folds of her robes. She smelled comforting, like home and daisies. You could hardly hold back the tears that poured down your cheeks.

“It’s Theo!” you gasped. “I broke up with him again!”

“Oh…again?” You could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “What did he do this time?”

“He was rubbing up on that stupid Gryffindor girl from last time—laughing and going on! I hate him! I never want to see him again!”

“Why do you let this keep happening?” she asked nonchalantly, patting your head soothingly.

“Me?” you scoffed. “He’s flirting with other girls!”

“Okay, but…you also keep getting back together with him,” she shrugged.

You pulled away from her and glared a bit. You knew your decision-making on the love aspect of things had never been terrific, but you couldn’t help it. Theo was so good to you (besides the flirting thing).

You had tried to rationalize it repeatedly, telling yourself he was just a friendly guy, but he never acted that way to other guys—only girls. And you’d realized your rationalization was stupid. And that he was just flirting.

“Listen,” she started again. “I get it more than anyone else. Theo’s very hard to resist—I’m just saying he’s attractive!” She quickly rushed to defend her words because, after all, though you and Theo were “broken up” right now, you’d likely be back together before the end of the week. That’s how pathetic you were.

“If you don’t want to break up with him, how about you talk about it with him,” she suggested. “You need to sit him down, get stern with him, and tell him that he’s not going to talk to these girls the way he is anymore.”

“I’ve tried that already, Pans! I practically scream in his face every time he does this shit!”

There was a moment of silence while the both of you seemed to mull the issue over.

“Well, then, how about we try something else?” Pansy said, her eyes glinting mysteriously. Your shuddering breaths paused for a moment as you looked up at her. Whatever she was planning couldn’t be good just by the look on her face.

“Er, what do you mean?” you asked, a bit of anxiety creeping up the back of your neck.

“If you can’t get him to stop in your own way…maybe it’s time to give him a taste of his own medicine.” She smirked wildly, her eyebrows rising above her bangs.

“You don’t mean—? Oh, no! No, Pansy! I’m not doing that. I can’t do that when I’ve shouted at him for doing it for so long!”

“Exactly,” she said. “You’ve asked him to stop repeatedly, but he’s not interested in discussion. He needs a threat.”

Despite the growing burning in the pit of your stomach urging you to accept her suggestion, you still felt horrible even considering it. Theo had never cheated on you; you just felt as though he was too friendly with other girls. But maybe Pansy was right. Maybe he wouldn’t understand how frustrating it was until he experienced it himself. It wasn’t like you were going to actually cheat on him. Maybe you could just talk to one of his friends and pretend to flirt. Just a little bit.

With the end of your free period growing closer, you decided you would make Theo jealous at dinner. You just had to decide who you would select to help with your antics.

***

Your eyes surveyed the Great Hall, flashing back and forth across the immense tables. Familiar faces glanced back at you in passing, their eyes aimlessly wandering as well. You couldn’t help but smirk just a bit, knowing your plans. Poor Theo had no idea what he was in for.

After weighing your options for a few minutes, you finally decided that if you really wanted to get to Theo, you needed to hit close to home—too close to home.

Your eyes locked on a familiar face you had often stared at, even before you got together with Theo. Mattheo Riddle.

A dark, brooding masterpiece of a boy. Truly, someone you’d be fawning over if you weren’t currently with Theo. But, saying that sounded like a broken record, considering how many girls and boys begged Mattheo for a second glance. You watched him closely, observing for a few moments.

His dark was clenched just a bit as he ran long fingers through his raven curls. It was entirely too much for you to watch…just looking at him had a bit of heat pooling in your stomach.

You couldn’t lie. In the few moments you’d forgotten about Theo and planned to make him jealous, the rose-colored glasses had come off, and the dark green ones had slipped over your eyes. Your chest was pounding, and it wasn’t for Theo at this very moment.

A prick of courage coursed through your veins and with a deep breath, you were moving quickly toward your target.

Enzo, Theo, and Mattheo sat at the edge of the Slytherin table closest to the Great Hall’s entrance. They gathered around each other, snacking and laughing. Mattheo sat on the table with his feet settled on the bench, Enzo sat just next to his legs on the bench, and Theo sat opposite Enzo. Maybe it was cheesy, but even Mattheo’s small rebellion of sitting on the table rather than the bench was calling your name. To not sound like every Gryffindor currently drooling over Mattheo, he really did have the perfect bad-boy vibe. He was like a sexy Muggle film.

Mattheo’s legs were spread with his elbows settled on his thighs—a dominating posture. His robe was settled over the edge of the table, and his tie was loosened, exposing a sliver of bronze chest and a singular chain dangling beneath the collar of his shirt. Merlin, this was sinful.

Theo caught your eyes and smiled brightly. He waved you over. That particular movement snagged the attention of Mattheo and Enzo—both of whom found your eyes and smiled in return. Maybe you were over-confident, but you could have sworn Mattheo had looked you slowly up and down as you approached.

Granted, you had changed up your outfit before coming to dinner. It was simple, but you were sure it’d get the job done with how it framed your figure and dipped down your chest. Your hair was styled, and Pansy had granted you her talent for makeup. You felt gorgeous, so you assumed you looked it.

Your wand was slid into the small decorative belt that came with the dress, and your hands were tightened behind your back in a sort of mock innocence. You smiled brightly, eyes only on Mattheo.

Completely ignoring Theo, you walked straight up to the two boys sitting before him. The both of them were looking you up and down now.

“Hey, Matty,” you giggled, stopping just before him. Smirking, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you between his legs, your hips bumping against his core.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered. “You’re awfully bubbly this afternoon.” His voice vibrated against your ear, sending a violent chill down your back. You tried not to let your facade fall, but damn, he was good. You couldn’t tell if he was just playing along, seriously into it, or reading your mind. Who knew? Legilimency ran in his family.

“Baby?” Theo asked gently. You could just barely hear his voice past Mattheo’s warm body. “Matty?”

His poor, confused voice made your heart sink a little bit. You immediately felt bad. But this was for his own good. He was feeling what you felt every time he pulled this shit with other girls.

“I can’t help it,” you smiled. “I was excited to see you.”

“What the fuck? What did he do to get all the attention?” Enzo joked, smiling crookedly.

“Aw, but I was excited to see you too, sweetheart,” you cooed, leaning over Mattheo’s thigh to gently touch a finger to his chin.

“I think someone’s had a bit to drink,” Theo said sternly. You finally made eye contact with him. He was fuming. You swallowed nervously but ignored his threatening gaze. You were doing this for a reason.

“I’m completely sober, Theo,” you said blankly.

“You wanna go somewhere, mama,” Mattheo whispered against your cheek, his lips brushing your jawline. His arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, his grip domineering and his scent overwhelming. Why did you want to say yes? Were you a bad person? You weren’t sure. This was a bad idea.

You giggled to avoid answering his question. Enzo’s eyebrow quirked at you before giving a glance to Theo.

“Well, I didn’t want to have to be the one to say this. But, personally, I feel that we are all close enough now to discuss these things.” Enzo nodded his head. “Have we truly ever considered the possibility of a foursome?”

Theo choked on his drink, Mattheo pretended to gag, and you gasped sharply.

“I’m just saying…it’s a valid question.”

“Enzo, shut up. Now.” Theo gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles bleeding white across his skin.

“Mattheo, take your fucking hands off of my girlfriend,” he said, turning to the man above you. “We need to fucking talk.”

His eyes never left yours as he pulled himself away from the table and walked toward the door. He didn’t even need to look back to know that you were trailing behind him with a half-defeated look on your face.

You were a bit frightened of the consequences of your actions, but you were certain that once you explained yourself, he’d be more understanding. You hoped.

Once the two of you were just past the doors of the Great Hall, Theo grasped your hand roughly, and, after being forced through a sickeningly tight tube with a loud suctioning sound, you were standing in Theo’s dormitory. You were a bit dizzy from Disapparating after not doing it for so long, but no amount of churning in your stomach could distract from the raging boy storming straight for you.

“What the fuck was that?” Theo shouted, forcing himself up against you. The pressure of his chest pushed you back up against the footboard’s bedpost. As the wood dug into your back, a gasp left your lips.

The way he looked down at you, fuming and jaw clenching, had you flushed ever so slightly. You didn’t know what it was, but his anger wasn’t pleasuring you as you thought.

An hour ago, you’d have assumed that you would feel amazing because of revenge. Not … something else.

“I was just…,” you trailed off, his eyes drilling holes through yours. Your hands wrapped around the bedpost behind you as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. “I wanted to make you jealous.”

His jaw ticked.

“You what?”

“I’m sorry,” you flinched at the volume of his words. “You’re always so friendly and touchy with all of your girl friends—I just wanted to make you feel the same way.”

“Feel what way?” he demanded.

“Jealous,” you whispered, embarrassed. Your eyes tore away from him and cast to the floor. Despite the confidence you’d had a few hours ago, you felt like the smallest woman in the world now.

“Jealous? You’re so pathetic,” he whispered, his voice suddenly soft and chiding. The word made a heat pool between your legs. Your lips parted in a silent gasp. You refused to look at him.

“Instead of just working through our argument earlier like adults, you thought it’d be a good idea to throw yourself on my friends to get a reaction out of me?”

“Well, when you say it like that—”

“Was it Pansy?”

“What?”

He sighed and clenched his jaw in frustration. “Did Pansy Parkinson put this stupid idea into your head?”

You looked down. You were too embarrassed to answer, but he knew. He scoffed and placed a surprisingly gentle finger beneath your chin. He tilted you up to look at him. His eyes were softer now.

“I know that Pansy is a bad influence on you, but you still have to be taught a lesson,” he murmured, his eyes ranging from soft and caring to lustful and mean.

“But, I–”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, voice stern as steel. “Don’t talk anymore, okay?”

Your lips snapped shut and, falling into an embarrassingly well-rehearsed routine, you nodded and forced yourself to keep eye contact with him. However, he had no issue doing so. His crystalline eyes never left your face except for one agonizing second when he dragged them down the length of your body.

You then forgot all of your previous endeavors and realized that Theo was going to have his way with you. He wasn’t more understanding, nor had you gotten your revenge. But none of that mattered right now. The heat pooling between your thighs had blurred all possible thoughts that might pass across your mind. The only thing you could see, smell, taste, hear, feel was Theo, Theo, Theo. You sucked in a shaky breath.

His fingers slid around your upper arms, pulling you closer to him. The way he touched you was gentle and slow—a precursor for the aggression that was to come.

“Turn around and bend over,” he whispered. His voice was nothing less than demanding. You couldn’t help but comply as if everything depended on your ability to follow his directions. Which, at this moment, it felt that way.

You turned and laid your torso across the length of his bed, tucking your arms beneath your chest. Your cheek lay against the satin comforter as your breath exited your body in short, shuddering pants.

“You deserve this,” he murmured. “You know you do.” His hands—so gentle—pushed themselves beneath the hem of your skirt. Your eyes clenched shut as your core pulsated in time with your rapid heartbeat.

The tips of his fingers caressed the curvature of your bare hips. With your intent to seduce, you’d figured you better dress the part as well as act it. For exactly that reason, you’d worn no bottoms beneath the tight dress. You could hear Theo inhale deeply as a single thumb slid over wettened, hot folds. You gasped sharply at the sensation.

“You wanted this,” he growled. Honestly, you hadn’t considered this as one of the outcomes of your little venture, but you wouldn’t deny what you currently wanted. With a whimper, you nodded your head and pushed your hips back against him.

A small grunt left his lips as your ass came into contact with his core, already engorged and pulsing, just as you were. You concealed a smirk. Perhaps it was the false persona you had put on this evening, but your confidence shone through the room like a lightbulb.

“Very well,” he sighed. “You’ll get exactly what you wanted, you pathetic slut. The only way you can get what you want is to show your ass in front of all my friends, huh? You couldn’t just fucking ask?” With each rhetorical question, he tore another piece of clothing from himself. His anger radiated off of him.

“My advice, love?” He rolled the fabric of your dress over your ass, allowing the cool air to bite at your core. “Next time…just fucking ask me to ruin this perfect cunt.” He pushed into you with a relieved groan.

The lack of any preparation had you biting into his comforter. Perhaps no foreplay was your punishment, but he felt too good for you to complain about it.

His hands gripped your hips like a vice as he pulled you back onto him at a sickening pace. He hit every spot inside of you with a bruising force, so hard that your face slid back and forth across his slick comforter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep a hold on the surface. Theo’s rage-filled thrusts knocked you loose from any grip you gained on his sheets like it was nothing.

“If you ever pull something like that again, I swear to Merlin, I’ll beat the fuck out of any man who touches you,” he breathed through ragged thrusts. “I don’t care if it’s Mattheo or Enzo or some random guy—I’ll fucking kill him.”

His words pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Shamelessly, you moaned his name as if it were the last thing you’d ever say. He looked like a god behind you with his hair stuck to his forehead and his lips parted, his sweat circled the air, his name tasted perfect in your mouth, his moans were glorious, and he felt delicious inside you. Again, Theo was all you could see, smell, taste, hear, and feel.

“Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?” he whispered to you, taunting you endlessly. “Who fucks you like this, huh?”

“You,” you whined, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I couldn’t hear you, baby. It sounded like you said Enzo. Was that right?” he cruelly teased you. His hand came down hard across the brunt of your ass cheek. “That’s what you fucking get. Now, who fucks you like this?”

“You!” you tried again, desperate to feel your release.

“Mattheo? Oh, you’re really trying me today!” he shouted, bringing his hand down against you again. You yelped beneath the bite of his hand. You could practically already see the handprint forming across your skin.

Theo suddenly grabbed your hair roughly and pulled you against his body. Your back was pressed to his front, and his cock was hitting a devastating angle inside of you.

“Who fucks you like this, bitch?”

“You, Theo! Fuck, nobody makes me feel like this! Theo, Theo, Theo…,” your voice trailed off pathetically as he pounded into you with a force like no other. You wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

One of his hands was wrapped around your stomach while the other remained tightly curled in your hair as he fucked up into you relentlessly. The coil in your stomach that only seemed to build when Theo handled you the way he did began to wind up in your stomach. Each thrust from the man behind you had it curling tighter and tighter, threatening to combust at any moment.

“Fuck, Theo, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby…cum on my cock, sweetheart. Let me fill you up, darling. Please, baby, let me cum inside you. Make me a daddy, baby.”

And with those words, you were cumming against him harder than you ever had before. Honey spilled from you and coated his lower stomach and your thighs. The tension from your entire body locking up had Theo’s legs beginning to shake. Whispers of strained “fuck, fuck, fuck”s resonated throughout the room as Theo fucked himself through his orgasm. Just before you could protest at the overstimulation, he came into you, filling you up just as he had promised.

The feeling of every inch of his arousal overflowing from your core nearly made you needy all over again. You might've asked him for a round two if not for the overwhelming exhaustion that had just flooded your body.

Between the rapid pace he’d set and the abuse you’d taken from behind, the two of you were laid out. Both of you collapsed against his bed, chests rising and falling rapidly, beads of sweat dripping, eyes fluttering closed. You were sure you’d pass away if you attempted to move, so you laid completely still.

“How was that?” Theo asked, chuckling breathlessly. You refrained from rolling your eyes at his awkwardly-timed question.

“It was really good, you dummy,” you laughed, wiping a bit of sweat from your hairline.

“Good,” he whispered, rolling over to face you. “Because if you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll kill the man who touched you then I’ll fuck you in front of him.”

Merlin.

- - -

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[delusionsofgrandeur13]

pt. 2

you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.

you ran into him on the street.

no, like, literally ran into him.

you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.

oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!

and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-

anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.

any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—

laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you

—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.

anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.

you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.

of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.

you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.

(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)

your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.

you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.

you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.

you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.

time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.

nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.

and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.

it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.

you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.

it definitely isn’t good for you.

but neither is life without dick grayson.

you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.

you were human!

but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.

never.

he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.

your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.

you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.

and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.

you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.

you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.

your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.

and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.

you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.

fucking batman?

you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.

a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.

you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.

so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.

trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.

“trouble??”

your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.

trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.

dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.

trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.

“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.

“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.

you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.

your chest hurts.

you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.

“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”

that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.

dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.

“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.

you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.

you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.

“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.

you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.

“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.

he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.

“..oookay?”

dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”

“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.

your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”

“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”

dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.

“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”

one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.

“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.

you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.

he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.

“can you get us untangled?”

dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.

“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”

he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”

“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.

dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.

when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.

he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”

you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.

a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.

shit. literally.

you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.

“is that trouble’s?” he asks.

you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”

“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.

“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.

“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.

“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.

[hotpinkstars]

LOST POSSESSIONS - aventurine, boothill, x reader

- in which you lost your wedding band during a conflict with something/someone.

- novas comeback post guys I'm gonna be more fluent with writing I promise. hope you enjoy this though I was gonna add Sunday but my computer is literally at 1 percent sooooooo....

- a lot of crying, minor swearing, besides that all comfort... wc 912

When Aventurine walked into your shared home to the sight of you sobbing on the couch, he thought of the worst. Are you hurt? Did something happen while he was at work? He went up to you to seek for answers.

“What happened? What's wrong?” He internally panicked, not wanting to allow you to see his current emotions. He kept calm as you sat up, tear stained face poking a hole through his battered heart.

“You’re gonna be so pissed!” You sob, somehow starting to cry even harder. You dove back into the warm cushions of the couch when you felt the part near your shins dip, and a hand running through your hair and massaging the back of your scalp.

“You can tell me anything. I won’t be upset, I promise,” he gave you a sympathetic look before proceeding. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t push you.”

You hesitantly show him your bare hands, and he takes them in his. You roll over to face him and look at him with a pained expression, and that's when he seemed to realize. 

“Where's your wedding ring?” He said, his words quick. He looked at you slightly wide-eyed before you began bawling again. He began to swipe the tears out of your eyes, his thumb coming into contact with your lower lashes as he quietly attempts to hush you and calm you down.

“Was it stolen? Did you lose it?” 

You bring a hand up to your face before sniffling. “It got stolen. The diamond was too appealing to some bastard on the streets on Golden Hour, and it was swiped right off of my hand!” 

You curl back into yourself before Aventurine comes down to kiss your face. “I’m not mad at you, babe. I’m beyond pissed off with the person who did that. Nobody seems to have even a drop of human decency these days, do they?” 

You slightly shrugged before hugging him close. He returned the hug, and held you there until you quietly whispered a question into his ear. “What are we going to do about the ring?”

He slightly chuckled before bringing his head on top of yours. “I might as well get you a new one. The old one was rather… out of date, if I must say so myself. I could get you a bigger, brighter diamond.”You attempted to protest, attempting to say everything he knew you wanted to say- even something made out of paper would be good enough for me. But he thought you were worth the shiniest, biggest, rarest stone in the world. Worth much much more than that. And this incident wasn’t much of a setback for him, and really didn’t make his wallet cry very hard at all.

Boothill doesn’t play when his significant other is not doing very well. He’s immediately at your side, stroking your hair and trying to do or say anything he can to make you feel better. 

But in this instance, it didn’t really work. He realized after a few moments that he just had to be patient, and wait for you to come to him,

“You’re going to be so mad at me if I told you,” you hiccuped, before continuing to talk. “Please don’t yell at me.”

“Why would I ever yell at ya’?” He said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Whatever's got your pretty face all stained with tears can’t be that bad. I hate gettin’ mad at ya’, and ya’ know that.”

You nodded, but dug your face deeper into the pillows. Boothill simply put his metal hand on your back, and rubbed up and down. While the sensation felt cold, it seemed to work to help calm you down because you felt more at ease, and he could tell that too. 

“I lost my wedding ring. I don’t know where it went, but one moment it was there and then the next it wasn’t on my hand anymore,” you cut out, trying to hold back more tears. You could see his face change from scared to relaxed.

“Hey, don’t stress it. That’s just a lil’ setback, nothin’ to worry about. We’ll either find it or I’ll buy ya’ a new one,” he says as he picks up your now bare hand, a flash of sadness showing through his eyes. “What’ll make ya’ feel better? Cuddles? If we went out to try n’ find it?”

You shrugged, and he nodded. You buried yourself even deeper into the blankets, giving him the hint that you just wanted to stay inside for now. You felt too bad and your face was rose red from crying, your eyes puffy and your voice raspy. He climbed into the bed with you, wrapping his strong, metallic arm around your covered torso. 

“I’ll do a thorough investigation tomorrow. People don’t usually lie to Galaxy Rangers, but I doubt those adorable cutie pies would know somethin’ like that,” he immediately cringed, realizing how the sentence came out. His stupid synesthesia beacon. 

But he heard you laugh, and the cringe feeling dissipated into a warmth in his metal chest. His whole goal is to keep you happy, healthy, and safe. If he were to fail at one of those things, he’d fail at his own purpose. For now, his only thing is to cheer you up, and make sure you know that he would never be mad at you for a mistake that's not even your fault.

[cntloup]

Why not doing reader pregnant but her boyfriend leave her with her child and she has some trust issues or whatever you want and she's poor too :) then someone (you'll decide who you want) see her in a small house or maybe a garage. I don't know if it's a good idea but hope you'll like it :]

i loved this idea thank you babe<333 i might write a series for this lmk what you think :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

You pass the various shops and cafes, filled with life and smiles and laughter, a sheer contrast to the void forming in your heart as you sob in agony while hugging yourself and rubbing your arms to keep somewhat warm, your flimsy dress doing nothing to keep away the freezing cold.  

Your vision is blurry from the endless streams of tears flowing down your eyes and you don’t seem to notice the large figure stepping out of the cafe and appearing right in front of you. 

You bump into the mass of muscles and jolt back in shock. You quickly wipe your tears and lift your head to see him already looking at you in high alertness from the sudden impact. You notice his serious look and the numerous scars littering his face. 

You take a step back, “I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t see you.” you apologize while looking down and his gaze softens, noticing the timidness in your demeaner. 

“ ‘s fine.” he responds, his voice deep and gruff, but maintaining a soft tone in order not to scare you any further. 

He observes the shaking in your much smaller form and how you’re trying so hard to keep warm, and that you have been crying. 

“Do you need any help?” he asks. You shake your head no and of course he knows you’re lying. You're scared, even to ask for a small favor. He knows how that feels. 

He takes off his leather jacket and goes to drape it over your trembling body, but you flinch away, “It’s ok. Here, take it.” he says, holding the jacket in front of you. 

You open your mouth to decline but the brisk icy wind prevents you from it. You take the jacket hesitantly and put if over your shoulders, “Thank you so much, sir.” “Simon.” “Thank you, Simon.” you try your hardest to give a small smile. 

But soon the tears come flowing down as rushing rivers, “Hey, hey. It's ok.” he tries to calm you down and goes to touch your arm only for you to pull away. He takes a step back and slightly raises his hands to show you he’s harmless. 

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” he asks and you sigh followed with a bitter chuckle, “Not really.” you silently scold yourself. You barely know the guy and you say you have nowhere to stay. 

He offers to take you inside the cafe and the rumbling in your stomach urges you to say yes. So you sit and talk for a while and he tells you he’s in the military which makes you maybe only slightly trust him and you warm up to him a bit more.

“I’m three months pregnant and my asshole of a boyfriend threw me out when he found out.” you tell him while biting into your sandwich like a starved animal. 

“What a bloody cunt...” he grumbles which makes you chuckle and agree. 

“I’m gonna check you into a hotel for now. Is that ok?” he offers kindly. He was gonna offer you his own place to keep an eye on you, but bit back his tongue since he knows how it would come off. 

Something tells you he’s trouble, but you can’t decline. Where would you stay? In the streets? 

“Yeah. Ok.” you accept, not knowing this is the start of something new. 

[lovelyspring7]

Silver Pearl | Yandere JJK x Reader

Preview: Jungkook is used to getting what he wants, and now, he wants you. Saying "no" isn’t an option. Will you find a way to break free from his relentless grip, or is freedom just an illusion in the billionaire’s twisted mind?

Word count: 13k

Genre: Yandere

Pairing: CEO Billionaire Jungkook x reader, short mentions of Cha Eunwoo & Jung Jaehyun.

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, non consensual touching, manipulation, controlling & emotionally abusive behaviour.

Disclaimer: This type of content is not suitable for all audiences and I do not condone any of the presented behaviour. This is purely for entertainment and fictional purposes and I don’t think any BTS member would act like this.

Authors note: The second part of Pearl series is here! Hope you enjoy! Can’t wait to know what you guys think of this long awaited chapter, my asks are always open!💜

Read Part 1 Here

With trembling legs, you let Jungkook guide you back to the bedroom. His grip on your hand was gentle, but the fear lingering in your chest made your entire body tense. The warmth of his touch, once comforting, now felt like a chain binding you to him.

You couldn’t believe how quickly everything had spiraled. Just hours ago, he was affectionate, kind even, and now... Now, the man standing before you was a stranger, someone whose darkness you had never truly seen until tonight.

As you entered the bedroom, Jungkook released your hand and sighed, rubbing his neck as though the tension of the evening had caught up to him. You stood near the door, watching him closely, unsure of your next move. 

Jungkook’s smile softened as he turned to you, almost as if the events from earlier hadn’t happened. “Come here, princess.” He patted the bed beside him, his eyes urging you to comply.

You hesitated, but his gaze darkened, and you knew that defying him right now wasn’t an option. Slowly, you made your way over to the bed and sat down, keeping your distance from him.

He noticed but said nothing, instead reaching over to pull you closer. You flinched slightly, but Jungkook ignored it, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as if it was the most natural thing. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know. I could never hurt you.”

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to spill. How could he speak so calmly, as if he hadn't just confessed he had someone killed? As if you weren’t trapped?

He stroked your hair, his voice a low murmur. “I know it’s a lot to take in. But I promise, everything I do is for you, princess.”

Your stomach twisted, anger and fear bubbling just beneath the surface, but you forced yourself to stay still. 

Jungkook leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You’ll see,” he whispered against your skin. “You’ll see that this is how it’s supposed to be.”

A lump formed in your throat, and you fought to hold back the sob that was building. But Jungkook noticed your shaking body, his brows furrowing in concern. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re just overwhelmed.”

“I-I’m tired,” you whispered, hoping he’d give you space.

He paused, then nodded, giving you a small understanding smile. “Of course. You’ve had a long day.”

Jungkook stood up and helped you under the covers, tucking you in with a tenderness that felt so out of place after everything that had happened. You watched as he moved around the bedroom, dimming the lights and making his way to the other side of the bed. He slid under the covers beside you, pulling you close to him. His arms wrapped around you, caging you in. You could feel his heartbeat against your back. It was steady, calm, completely at odds with the storm of emotions raging inside you.

“Goodnight, princess,” he whispered into the darkness, his lips brushing against the back of your neck.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you lay there, trapped in his embrace. 

As Jungkook’s arms tightened around you, the weight of everything crashed down. Your heart pounded in your chest, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t slow your racing thoughts. The room was quiet, but your mind was a storm.

Lying there, trapped in his embrace, the reality of what you had gotten yourself into settled in, cold and suffocating. You didn’t dare to move. Tears welled in your eyes, hot and uncontrollable. You blinked hard, trying to stop them from spilling, but it was no use. Slowly, silently, they rolled down your cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath you. 

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to stay quiet. You couldn’t let him know. You couldn’t let him see you like this. He might ask questions, might tighten his grip, the last thing you wanted was for him to notice.

The warmth of his body behind you felt suffocating, a reminder of how close he always was, how there was no escaping him. The man you once thought was kind and protective had revealed something far darker, something far more dangerous. You’d never felt more alone, more trapped. 

Fucking rich people.

How did this happen? How have you gotten yourself into this? You cursed yourself, cursed the choices that led you here, cursed him for being so cruel under the surface of his affection. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You buried your face deeper into the pillow, muffling any sound that might slip out. The sobs you held back were painful, your throat raw from trying to stay quiet, but you had no choice. You had to be strong, had to stay silent. For now, that was the only thing you could control.

You lay there for what felt like hours, the tears eventually slowing as exhaustion began to weigh down on you. But even as sleep finally pulled you under, a deep, gnawing fear lingered in the pit of your stomach.

__________

As you stirred from sleep, your body felt heavy, weighed down by the exhaustion of a restless, sleepless night. Your head pounded, and your eyes were swollen from the silent crying that had consumed you hours before. The fear that had gripped you the night before lingered, but it wasn’t the same. As you lay there in the empty bed, staring at the ceiling, something else began to stir inside you.

Anger.

The sadness and fear that had paralyzed you last night shifted into a burning rage. The more you thought about it, the more the fury built. How could he act this way, treat you like something he owned, then sleep so peacefully beside you as if nothing had happened? It was sickening. It was maddening. He had controlled you with his words, his touch, trapping you, and you were done being afraid.

You threw the covers off and sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, the cold floor beneath your feet doing nothing to calm the anger simmering in your chest.

The scent of sweet vanilla wafted through the air, drawing your attention to the faint sounds of movement coming from the kitchen. He was up, and from the smell of it, making breakfast like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t terrified you into submission last night. 

You walked to the door, every step fueled by the fire raging inside you. Reaching the kitchen, you saw him standing there, humming softly to himself, completely at ease as he moved around the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

Jungkook glanced up as you entered, his face lighting up with a smile that felt so wrong given everything that had happened. “Good morning, princess,” he said warmly, “Sleep well?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, the fury bubbling up again. He was acting like nothing had happened. How could he be so calm, so collected?

“Come sit down,” he said, turning back to the stove. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”

You stood there, staring at his back, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. He hadn’t even acknowledged the hell he put you through last night. You wanted to scream from how frustrated you were. But instead, you swallowed down the anger, pushing it deep inside for now.

Without saying a word, you walked over to the table and sat down. Jungkook continued to hum softly, oblivious to the storm building inside you. 

But for now, you waited.

Jungkook set the plate in front of you with a wide, satisfied smile. Pancakes, perfectly golden and stacked high, topped with fresh berries and drizzled with syrup. The sweet scent of vanilla and sugar filled the air, tempting and warm. It was one of your favorites, something he knew well.

He sat down across from you, still acting like everything was perfectly normal. “I made them just the way you like,” he said, his voice soft and affectionate. 

You stared at the pancakes, unmoving. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the table as you felt the anger inside you start to rise again. 

Jungkook looked up when you didn’t immediately dig in. “What’s wrong baby, you don't like pancakes anymore?” He asked with curiosity. 

“I’m not hungry,” you muttered, eyes fixed on the untouched pancakes in front of you. 

You lifted your gaze, and there he was, watching you intently. His jaw clenched as he swallowed hard, breaking the tense silence.

“You were so good to me last night,” his voice was calm, but edged with something darker. “So why the sudden change?”

“Eat.” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for arguments. 

“I said, I'm not hungry.” You bite back. 

He exhaled through his nose as he put his fork down. 

“What? Are you mad that things aren't going your way for once?” It was a bold sentence but it needed to be said. You weren't going to let him have his way with you. Staring back at him you saw how his jaw visibly clenched, irritation flickering across his features as he fought to maintain his composure. 

“I’m gonna ask you one last time,” he said, voice steady but charged, “Eat your breakfast.”

“No.”

The word barely left your mouth before he stood abruptly, the force of it sending your heart racing. Before you could process what was happening, his hands were on you, lifting you out of your chair with a swift, almost casual strength. He carried you toward the kitchen counter, his grip firm but controlled. He set you down on the cold, smooth surface, positioning you so that you were sitting on the edge, your legs dangling. The cold countertop sent a shiver through you, but it was nothing compared to the icy tension in the air. 

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he muttered, his breath warm against your ear, his tone a dangerous mix of exasperation and something much darker.

Your breath caught as he stood close, his presence overwhelming. Panic flickered at the edges of your mind, but you forced yourself to stay calm, pushing down the fear. His grip remained firm, yet disturbingly gentle, as though he was handling something delicate, something he could break if he chose.

“Let me go,” you demanded, your voice shaky but defiant.

He paused, his eyes scanning your face, searching for a crack in your resolve. Submission, perhaps. Doubt. He wanted to see you break, but you wouldn’t.

“You’re testing me,” he said, his voice low and threatening, but his hold on you never tightened. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” his gaze drilling into yours.

“I’m not your doll,” you said through gritted teeth, meeting his stare head-on, refusing to let him see the fear in you.

His lips curled into something resembling a smile, but there was no warmth in it, only cold amusement. “Doll?” he echoed, his voice soft but dangerous. “No baby. But you’re mine. And you’ll do as I say.”

You could feel your pulse pounding in your temples, but you didn’t look away. “No, I won't.”

His expression darkened, and for a split second, something almost like disappointment flashed in his eyes. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that unnerving calm. He leaned in close, his breath ghosting over your cheek.

“You’re going to eat,” he whispered, his voice like velvet over steel. “Or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

His words wrapped around you, sickly sweet yet suffocating, the threat lingering beneath his loving tone impossible to ignore. He put his hand on your chin and held it firm, his thumb tracing your lip with unsettling affection. The way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world, only made the whole situation feel even more twisted.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you hated yourself for it—the crack of desperation he would no doubt savor.

He tilted his head, his expression softening into something almost affectionate, his thumb pausing its slow movement. “Please?” he whispered back, as if you’d just said something sweet. His grip relaxed, but not enough for you to break free. “Oh, Sweetheart, I know you’re scared. But you don’t have to be. Everything I do, it’s for us. To keep you safe and close to me, to give you everything you deserve and more.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his other hand sliding to the back of your neck, cradling you as if you were delicate, breakable. “Be good for me.” he murmured, his voice a gentle lullaby laced with obsession.

His closeness was suffocating, his words dripping with a distorted kind of love that made your skin crawl. “This isn’t okay,” you managed to say, your voice trembling as you met his gaze, refusing to let him see how completely terrified you were. 

He smiled, but it was filled with a dark, dangerous affection, as though he found your defiance adorable rather than threatening. “You’ll understand one day,” he whispered softly, his fingers tightening just slightly at the back of your neck, holding you in place as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’ll see how much I care.”

He straightened, his gaze locking onto yours again, and in that moment, you could see how deep his obsession ran, how far he was willing to go. He gently released his hold on your neck and stepped back, his eyes still glued to you, watching every breath you took.

“Now,” he said, his voice soft but commanding, “you’re going to eat. And you’re going to stop fighting me, my love. You understand that?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, every fiber of your being screaming to run, but you were trapped—trapped by his words, by the twisted love in his eyes, by the knowledge that he would never let you go.

He slowly stepped back, leaving you on the cold countertop as he walked to the table to grab the plate of pancakes. When he returned, he held it in front of you.

You got goosebumps as you stared down at the plate, the pancakes now cold and uninviting, but it wasn't the food that made you hesitate. It was the weight of his gaze on you, expectant and unwavering, his dark eyes daring you to defy him again. You could feel the unspoken threat hanging in the air, just beneath the thin veneer of affection he wore so well.

Slowly, you reached for the fork, your fingers trembling as they closed around the handle. You weren't hungry. You could barely breathe, let alone eat, but refusing him again felt like

stepping into something far more dangerous. You could sense his satisfaction as you lifted the fork to your mouth, even though every movement felt like surrender.

"That's it," he murmured softly, his voice low and filled with twisted pride, as though he'd just coaxed a frightened animal into trusting him. "Good girl. See how easy it can be when you stop fighting?"

The words made your stomach churn, but you swallowed the bite, forcing yourself not to react. You couldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how deeply he affected you. Every inch of your body screamed to run, to push the plate away, but you knew he wouldn't allow that. Not now. Not ever.

He watched you closely, eyes flickering with possessive adoration as you took another bite. It wasn't the food he was concerned with, it was your submission, your compliance, the quiet thrill he got from watching you bend to his will. "That's my girl," he whispered, his fingers brushing your hair back, tucking it gently behind your ear. His touch was soft, almost tender, but it made your skin crawl all the same. "I knew you'd come around. You just need a little... encouragement."

You set the fork down, unable to stomach another bite, but the gesture didn't seem to bother him. He stepped closer, standing between your knees now, his hands resting lightly on your thighs, his thumbs tracing small circles in a way that would've been comforting if it weren't him. 

"I do this because I love you," he whispered, his breath warm against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips brushing your skin in an unsettling mockery of a kiss. "I know you haven't seen it yet, but you will. You'll understand. No one will ever care for you like I do. No one will ever love you like I do."

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse hammered in your ears. “You can't force me to feel the same," you whispered, barely able to keep the tremor out of your voice.

He paused, his lips still hovering near your skin, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd pushed too far. But then, he smiled- a slow, unsettling smile that sent a shiver down your spine. "Oh, Princess," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "You don't have to say it. I can see it in you, even if you don't realize it yet. I'll wait.”

His hands slid up your thighs, his grip firm but not painful, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm patient, you see. I'm willing to wait until you come to your senses. But make no mistake," he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over yours now, the intimacy of it sickening, "you're mine. Whether you admit it now or later, it doesn't matter. You belong to me."

You bit down on your lip, willing yourself not to tremble under his intense gaze. He lingered there, his breath warm against your mouth, daring you to react. When you stayed silent, he straightened, the satisfaction in his expression unmistakable.

"Good," he whispered, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling away. He turned his back, walking calmly to the sink, as though the entire conversation had been perfectly normal. "You'll see, love. One day, you'll thank me for all of this."

__________

After finishing breakfast and clearing the table, you felt the need to wash away the lingering tension from the morning. You turned to him, trying to keep your voice light.

“Hey, I’m going to take a shower,” you said, heading toward the bathroom.

He looked up from where he was drying the dishes, his brow furrowing slightly. “A shower? Why now?”

“Just to freshen up,” you replied, forcing a smile. “I feel a bit gross after breakfast.”

He put the dish towel down, turning his full attention to you. “I can help with that,” he said, his voice low and slightly playful.

You hesitated, a slight chill running down your spine. “That’s okay. I can manage on my own.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he maintained calm. “You know I just want to help you feel good. How about I join you?”

You took a step back, a mix of apprehension and defiance flooding your mind. “I’d really rather be alone right now,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone firm but sweet. “It’s just a quick shower.”

He stepped closer, his expression softening, but you could sense the underlying tension. “You don’t need to be alone. I can make it more enjoyable. We could have fun together.”

“I just need a few minutes to myself,” you said, keeping your gaze steady. “Please, can’t you let me have that?”

For a moment, he looked taken aback, as if your request was unexpected. But then his expression hardened, the warmth fading from his eyes. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide from me,” he replied, his voice steady but tinged with frustration. 

You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “I’m not hiding. I just want some space to gather my thoughts. That’s all.”

He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening slightly. 

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” you insisted, trying to sound convincing. “I’ll be right in the bathroom. You can stay close if that makes you feel better.”

He considered your words for a moment, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. Finally, he sighed, stepping back a little. “Fine, super quick then. I don’t want to be away from you for too long.”

You nodded, relief flooding through you. 

As you headed into the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you, watching as you closed the door. You turned on the water, letting it run as you leaned against the cool tiles. You needed this time alone to clear your head, to breathe without his suffocating presence hovering over you.

As the warm water cascaded over you in the shower, you allowed yourself a few precious moments to breathe. You closed your eyes, focusing on the sound of the water to drown out the thoughts of him. 

What could you do to escape him? It was a dangerous game, but you had to find a way. You needed a strategy, a way to manipulate him into letting his guard down. If you played your cards right, you might be able to find a window of opportunity to slip away.

Your mind raced as you lathered shampoo into your hair. First, you needed to build his trust. You’d seen how quickly his mood could shift from affectionate to possessive, and you had to navigate that carefully. If you could make him believe that you were accepting of his love, that you were starting to see things his way, perhaps he would let you have more freedom, time alone, maybe even time away from him.

Once you rinsed out the shampoo, you continued your thoughts, focusing on the idea of creating a facade of compliance. “I can play along,” you thought, the water washing away not just the soap, but your anxiety as well. If I show him that I’m willing to embrace his twisted version of love, he might relax his grip.

Maybe you could start asking for small favors, things that seemed harmless but could lead to more significant opportunities. If you could convince him to let you go to school, or to see a friend, it would give you the chance to formulate a real escape plan. You could text someone for help or find a way to contact the outside world without him knowing.

The idea of appearing genuinely affectionate could work to your advantage too. If you made him believe that you cared for him, that you were falling into his idea of love, he might not suspect anything. You could ask to do something nice for him, like cooking dinner or watching a movie together, to further endear yourself to him. Keeping him engaged and distracted would be crucial.

Rinsing off the last of the soap on your body, you rehearsed the plan in your head. Every word had to be perfect. You needed to make him feel reassured, secure in the idea that you were staying, that you belonged to him, because if you could make him believe that, maybe, just maybe, he’d let his guard down. And that sliver of trust could be your chance to escape.

Wrapping yourself in a white plush robe, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. As you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, Jungkook was already there, waiting. His eyes immediately flicked over you, and there was something possessive in the way he watched, as if even a moment without you was too long.

“See? I told you I’d be quick,” you said, forcing a lightness into your tone. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

His gaze softened slightly as he smiled back at you, and for a moment, you felt a rush of confidence. Maybe, just maybe, you could find a way out of this after all.

“Feeling better, princess?” he asked softly, though his eyes held an edge. “I picked out something for you.”

You glanced at the clothes laid out on the bed, one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants. You hesitated, trying to keep your expression neutral. Wearing his clothes would make him feel in control. But you needed to give him the illusion that you were trying to please him while still asserting some level of independence, and can't go from a zero to a hundred.

You forced a small smile. “Thank you, Jungkook, but I was thinking I could pick out something myself today. Maybe one of my old clothes?” Your voice was light, casual, like it was no big deal. 

He crossed the room in just a few strides, standing close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read something hidden in your words. “You don’t like what I picked out for you?” His voice was low, but it carried a sharp undertone. A test.

You swallowed, keeping your gaze soft and affectionate, even as tension wound tight in your chest. “It’s not that. I just thought it’d be fun to wear something different. But if you want me to wear this, I will.” You reached out to touch the hoodie, hoping the gesture would calm him.

Jungkook’s jaw tightened briefly, but his eyes softened as they roamed your face, as if trying to understand you fully. Gently, he lifted his hand to cup your chin, his thumb grazing your cheek tenderly. He tilted your head up, making you meet his gaze. 

“You don’t have to worry, my love,” he murmured, his voice warm but firm. “I’ll always take care of you. Let me handle everything, okay.”

His words were filled with affection, but beneath them, there was still an unmistakable note of control.

You fought against the instinct to pull away, keeping your voice soft and steady. “I know, and I’m trying. I just thought you might like seeing me in something else, something like silk. But I’ll wear whatever you want.”

For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of his gaze heavy on your skin. Then, finally, his lips twitched into a small, satisfied smile. The decision was final in his smile. 

As Jungkook reached for the robe, you instinctively tightened your grip on it, he gently tugged it from your grasp. Panic flared in your chest as the soft fabric slipped down, but you reacted quickly, clutching the robe just before it fully exposed you. Only your shoulder and part of your collarbone were visible, the rest of the robe held tightly against your chest.

His eyes traced the newly exposed skin, lingering for a moment, before flicking up to meet your gaze. A mix of emotions flickered in his expression, something between satisfaction and curiosity, as though he was testing your boundaries, watching how far you’d go to resist.

“You don’t need to hide from me,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle, though laced with possessiveness. 

You grip firmly on the robe as you carefully shielded yourself. 

Ironically, even then as a stripper, you’d never shown much of yourself. Most of the outfits you wore, body suits and lingerie, had always covered more than they revealed. It was a kind of armor, a way to maintain some control over your own body, despite the prying eyes watching you night after night.

He paused, clearly not used to being denied, even in such a small way. His hand brushed your arm, fingers ghosting over your bare shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, as you let him pull the hoodie down over your head. Even as the oversized fabric enveloped you, you kept your grip on the robe beneath it, protecting yourself, both from the cold and from the vulnerability of being completely exposed to him.

As Jungkook stepped back, admiring how the hoodie looked on you, his gaze shifted to your wet hair, droplets falling onto the fabric. He frowned slightly, a hint of concern crossing his face. "Your hair's dripping water" he said softly, reaching out to brush a strand behind your ear. "I don’t want you catching a cold."

Without waiting for your response, he turned toward the vanity. "Let me get you a hair tie."

As soon as his back was turned, your heart raced, knowing you had just seconds. You glanced quickly at the bed where the sweatpants were lying. Without thinking, you dropped the robe that was covering your waist down. Moving swiftly but silently, you grabbed the sweatpants and stepped into them, pulling them up just as Jungkook returned with the hair tie in hand.

His eyes immediately went to the sweatpants now covering your legs. For a brief moment, his smile faltered, and you could see a flicker of disappointment in his expression. His gaze lingered on the fabric, and the tension between you grew heavier. 

He had been expecting something different, a chance to savor the control he had over you in this moment, and now, it was slipping. You saw the sadness in his eyes, subtle but unmistakable, as he handed you the hair tie. 

"You were quick," he said softly, his tone gentle but tinged with regret. His fingers brushed the fabric of the sweatpants lightly, as if he were reconsidering what to say next. "I just wanted to help."

You forced a smile, trying to smooth things over. "I know," you replied, taking the hair tie from him. "I just got cold and... I thought it would be better." You paused, meeting his eyes, hoping the reassurance in your voice was enough. "But I appreciate everything you do for me. Really."

He exhaled slowly, his hand falling back to his side. He nodded, though you could still feel that lingering disappointment in the air. 

“Let’s not think about it too much, okay?” he said, his voice dipping into that sweet tone he used when trying to soothe over any conflict. “Why don’t we relax for a bit? We could watch a movie, something we both enjoy. How about that?”

You nodded, keeping the smile on your face. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

Without another word, Jungkook took your hand and guided you toward the living room, where the plush couch awaited. As he set up the movie, you could feel his presence behind you, close and attentive, his fingers brushing your back as if testing the waters. Once everything was ready, he sat down next to you, immediately pulling you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist.

As the movie went on, you could feel his eyes on you more than the screen. Every so often, his hands would drift, brushing over your thighs, running along your back, and occasionally tightening as if to remind you that you were his. His touch became bolder, more insistent, until it started to feel like he was less interested in the movie and more focused on you.

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to redirect his attention to the screen. "This part's really good," you said lightly, gesturing toward the TV, but he wasn’t paying attention. His lips pressed against your neck, lingering there for longer than you wanted. Your heart raced as you tried to stay calm, forcing a nervous laugh.

"Jungkook... maybe we can just-"

Before you could finish, his phone buzzed, cutting through the moment like a lifeline. His grip on you loosened slightly, he took out the phone with a sigh, frustration flashing in his eyes.

"Hold on, just one second," he murmured. His fingers lingered on your waist for a moment before he finally pulled away completely and gently moved you aside, standing as he answered the call. His voice shifted, going from soft to firm and businesslike. "Yeah? What is it?"

He paced across the room, his back to you now, as he discussed something about a meeting that needed his attention. You sat there, your heart still pounding from the intensity of his closeness, but now relieved by the brief reprieve.

Jungkook shot you a glance, his expression torn between annoyance at the interruption and reluctance to leave you alone. "I have to take care of something at work," he said, his tone clipped but apologetic. "I’ll be back before dinner. Just stay here, okay? I'll make it quick."

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and watched as he gathered his things. 

Jungkook lingered by the door, his hand on the handle as he turned back to face you. His expression softened, but there was something darker underneath- a warning, a reminder of control. He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity. 

“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret while I’m gone, princess,” he said quietly, his voice firm yet gentle, as if coaxing you into compliance. “And I really don’t want us to do anything we’ll both regret.” The words, though calm, carried an unmistakable edge.

Your stomach twisted at the unspoken threat in his tone. You forced yourself to smile, nodding obediently. “Of course. I’ll just stay here, wait for you to come back,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He moved closer again, reaching out to brush your hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a little too long. “Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers gently gripping your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze. “I’ll know if you try anything. Don’t forget that.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze, his thumb tracing your lower lip in a way that made your skin crawl despite the tenderness. He was always like this, smothering affection masking something far more dangerous. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment too long before he pulled away.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, a twisted warmth in his tone. “Be good while I’m gone.” With that, he stepped away, finally exiting the room, but not before casting one last look over his shoulder, as if ensuring you understood exactly what he expected.

You heard the door click shut, the sound echoing in your ears like a warning bell. Your mind racing, trying to process everything. He hadn’t locked the door, not this time, but you knew better than to believe you could just walk out without consequence. There would be cameras, perhaps even people watching. 

A part of you wanted to rush for the door, but you knew better. You had to be smart, strategic. Trying to escape now would only tighten his grip, making things even worse. If you were going to find a way out, it had to be subtle, planned, and with no room for error.

Taking a shaky breath. For now, you had to play the part.

You stood there for a moment, listening to the quiet hum of the apartment after Jungkook left. The air felt heavy, as though his presence still lingered, even though you were alone now. But his words echoed in your mind: “I’ll know if you try anything.”

You forced yourself to breathe slowly, trying to calm your racing heart. You couldn't act hastily, not now. You glanced toward the door, freedom, but not without consequences. You had no idea what surveillance systems or traps he might have in place. You knew he was possessive enough to ensure you wouldn’t just slip out without him knowing. He always had control, even when he wasn’t physically there.

You looked around the apartment, your mind running through all the possibilities, all the things he could be watching. Cameras? Maybe. Some kind of alert system? You couldn’t rule it out. You’d learned early on that he wasn’t the kind of person to leave anything to chance.

Carefully, you walked toward the window, pulling the curtain back just enough to peek outside. You were several stories up. Jumping wasn’t an option.

Your mind buzzed with ideas, trying to balance hope with fear. What could you do now to buy yourself more time, more trust? You knew you had to be smart, to play along even when it felt suffocating. Maybe this time, when he returned, you could act more compliant, give him a reason to believe you were falling in line. You just needed him to let his guard down a little more.

With a sigh, you moved back to the couch, deciding it was safer to wait. You couldn’t make any rash decisions. Not yet.

As you sat, your mind shifted back to Jungkook’s behavior, his unsettling mix of affection and control. He truly believed he was doing this out of love, protecting you, caring for you. That delusion fueled his every action, and it made him unpredictable. You knew you had to carefully navigate his moods. Push too hard, and he’d snap. Give in too much, and you’d lose yourself completely.

You fiddled with the hem of his oversized hoodie he had dressed you in, the material soft against your skin, and the subtle scent of laundry detergent. You had to stay calm, stay strategic. Maybe you could make dinner for him. A way to show him you were being “good,” just as he expected.

As you made your way to the kitchen, an idea came to mind: Bibimbap. It was simple, comforting, and reminded you of times when things were easier. Back when you had to scrape together whatever ingredients you had just to make a meal, tossing them into a bowl of rice with a bit of protein. 

You opened the fridge and scanned for what you needed. There were eggs, some vegetables, and a bit of leftover beef, perfect for what you had in mind. Cooking could help settle your nerves, and more importantly, it could keep Jungkook happy. 

Just as you were about to place the fried egg in the bowl for the final touch, you heard the front door open. He was back, sooner than expected. Your heart jumped into your throat, and you quickly composed yourself, forcing a soft smile as you turned toward him.

Jungkook stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room briefly before landing on you. There was a strange relief in his expression, as if he had been expecting to find you somewhere you shouldn’t be. He smiled, walking over to you, his fingers brushing your cheek as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

"You’re still here. Good girl," he murmured, his voice a mix of affection and possession. "I’m glad you didn’t try anything… disappointing."

You swallowed hard, maintaining the calm facade. "Of course not," you whispered, keeping your tone steady. "I was waiting for you."

His gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, like he truly believed this twisted version of love. He sat down next to you, pulling you into his arms, his touch tight yet oddly gentle. "Let’s spend the rest of the evening together, just us," he said quietly, his lips brushing your temple. "I want to enjoy every second with you."

You nodded, leaning into his embrace, knowing that for now, you had no choice but to play along. Each small victory would build toward something bigger, toward an escape. 

Suddenly, Jungkook pulled back and grabbed the bowl of food you had prepared from the counter, setting it down next to you. Without a word, he picked up a spoon, his expression calm. He scooped some food from the bowl, and turned toward you with a faint smile.

"You know," he said, his voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and something darker, "I think you need a little help."

Before you could respond, he brought the spoon closer to your lips, his gaze unwavering. "Open up," he commanded softly, his tone leaving no room for refusal.

Your heart raced, instinctively pulling back. "I can feed myself," you protested, but the tremor in your voice betrayed your fear.

“Not today,” he replied, leaning closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours with unsettling intensity. “You’re going to let me feed you.”

“Look at it this way,” he said softly, his fingers brushing the side of your face. “It’s a way for you to make up for your bad behavior from this morning. All is forgiven now.” His tone was almost gentle, as if offering you a gift wrapped in his twisted logic.

Your breath caught in your throat. You knew what he meant, your resistance earlier, your small acts of defiance. They hadn’t gone unnoticed. Every decision you made, every hesitation, was another test to him, and now, by complying, you were wiping the slate clean. At least in his eyes.

You forced yourself to nod, your throat tight. "I’m glad everything’s okay now," you whispered, trying to match his calm tone, though the words felt hollow.

He smiled again, "That’s my girl," he murmured. 

"We’ll be fine as long as you keep behaving." He held the spoon near your lips, the savory scent mixing with the rising anxiety in your chest. You felt trapped, the weight of his control suffocating as the desire to resist clashed violently with the fear of what he might do if you refused.

"Just one bite," he urged, his voice deceptively gentle. "That’s all I ask. You might even like it."

You hesitated, the spoon hovering inches from your mouth. His breath brushed your skin, warm and suffocating, and despite every fiber of your being screaming to resist, you reluctantly parted your lips. He fed you the bite, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction as you chewed.

“Good girl,” he praised softly, his voice laced with twisted affection. “See? Not so bad, is it?”

You couldn’t meet his gaze, focusing instead on the way he savored your submission, each bite you took a victory for him. He continued feeding you, the act a power play more than an act of care. “Good girl,” he murmured again, his praise becoming a sickly sweet reminder of how much he enjoyed your obedience.

You swallowed the last bite, but before you could protest, he was already lifting another spoonful to your lips. "No more," you whispered, shaking your head. But he only smiled, unbothered by your plea.

“You’re not done yet,” he replied, his voice still calm but now carrying a subtle warning. “You need to eat. I won’t let you starve yourself.”

Each bite felt like a slow erosion of your autonomy, a surrender to the web of control he had wrapped around you. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he set the spoon down and wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“There. Good. Now, was that so hard?” he asked, his smile widening, a smug satisfaction radiating from him.

You could barely hold back the bile rising in your throat as he tilted his head, his eyes flashing with something dark and possessive. “Soon, you’ll see things my way.”

__________

The days blurred together in a suffocating routine after that morning. Each day, you played your part, becoming the perfect version of the person Jungkook wanted you to be, feeding into his twisted fantasy of love and control. You adapted, not out of choice, but out of survival, carefully treading the fine line between submission and manipulation.

Jungkook, on the surface, seemed content. Every morning, he’d wake you with soft kisses, his arms tight around you as he whispered promises of love. You’d smile, kiss him back, and play along, even when every touch made your skin crawl. Breakfast was always a quiet ritual, with him feeding you more often than not, his gaze watching your every move, ensuring you didn’t deviate from his expectations.

In the afternoons, he’d insist on spending time together, whether it was watching TV or simply lounging around. His arms were always around you, his touch never far. It was smothering, but you endured it, knowing that resistance would only tighten his grip. You began to flatter him, giving him small, calculated compliments, making him believe that you were starting to see things his way. Each word was carefully crafted, designed to earn his trust, to keep him from suspecting that behind your compliance was a growing determination to escape.

You started doing more for him, small acts of care that fed into his obsession. You made his favorite meals, dressed in clothes he picked out for you, and even initiated moments of affection, all while hiding the fear and anger that simmered beneath the surface. You needed him to believe you were falling in line, that you were happy, even when the chains around you grew tighter every day.

And he did believe it. The more you played into his fantasy, the more he relaxed. He started leaving you alone for short periods, his possessiveness loosening just enough to give you moments of freedom. But even then, you knew he was watching. There were cameras, there had to be. You could feel his presence, even when he wasn’t there.

Yet, despite the facade you maintained, the anger inside you grew. Every time he praised you for being his "good girl," every time he fed you like a child or held you too tight, it fueled the fire burning in your chest. You hated how easily he controlled your life, how he believed you were his to command.

But you also knew that anger wasn’t enough. If you were going to escape, you had to be smart. You needed to play the long game, to lull him into a sense of security. Every smile, every affectionate word, was a brick in the wall you were building between you and his suspicions. Slowly, carefully, you were laying the groundwork for your escape.

As the days passed, Jungkook grew more comfortable with your “submission.” He praised you often, told you how proud he was of how you were “adjusting” to his love. Each time he said it, your heart twisted, but you forced a smile, knowing that it was part of the plan. The more he believed in your compliance, the more likely he was to slip, to give you the opening you needed.

But for now, you remain trapped in the routine, your every move calculated, your words carefully chosen. The slivers of freedom he gave you were small, but they were enough for now. You knew that eventually, the trust you were building would be your key to escape. It had to be.

You sat on the couch, curled up under a soft blanket, your legs stretched out across Jungkook’s lap. He was working, as he often did these days, typing on his laptop with one hand while absentmindedly rubbing your feet and calf with the other. The quiet sound of his fingers on the keyboard and the gentle pressure of his touch were strangely soothing, but the tension in your chest refused to ease.

Your book, Gone Girl, lay open in your lap. It had been months since you’d had time to read for pleasure, back when your life was a whirlwind of school and juggling two jobs. Now, though, things were different. Your days were long, filled with a strange mixture of peace and suffocation, where the boundaries of control and submission were constantly shifting.

Jungkook had been working from home more often lately, his gaze flicking between you and his computer screen. He liked having you near, a constant presence that fed into his need to know where you were, what you were doing, at all times. You had grown accustomed to it, the way he monitored your movements even when his attention seemed elsewhere. But tonight, something was different. Maybe it was the quiet, or maybe it was the fact that he'd been in a particularly good mood recently, satisfied with how you were behaving.

You glanced at him over the top of your book, the glow of his laptop reflecting off his features. He looked calm, focused on his work. Now felt like the right time to bring it up. You’d been absent from school for weeks, your professors likely wondering where you had gone. But more importantly, your final exam was approaching. If you missed it, you wouldn’t pass the course you've fought sleepless for.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. It wasn’t that you were afraid of asking, Jungkook rarely reacted harshly to your questions, but the idea of returning to school, even for an exam, meant the possibility of freedom. And you knew how he felt about that.

Still, you had to try.

“Babe,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone light and casual, “I’ve been thinking about school.”

His fingers paused on your leg, just for a second, before continuing their gentle massage. His eyes remained fixed on his screen, though you knew he was listening intently.

“What about school?” he asked, his tone even, though you sensed a hint of curiosity beneath it.

“I’ve been gone for a while now,” you continued carefully. “I still need to take my final exams at the end of the month if I want to graduate.”

There was a brief silence, the sound of his typing slowing to a stop. He finally looked at you, his dark eyes scanning your face as if trying to gauge your intentions.

“I thought we talked about this,” he said quietly, his hand tightening slightly around your calf. “School isn’t something you need to worry about anymore. You’re with me now.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to stay calm. You couldn’t afford to push too hard. “I know, but graduating is important to me. It’s something I worked really hard for, and I just need one more year before I graduate. After that, I’ll be done.”

Jungkook’s expression didn’t change, but his grip on your leg remained firm. He seemed to consider your words, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the request. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, weighing the risk of letting you out of his sight, even for something as seemingly harmless as an exam.

“I don’t like the idea of you going back there,” he said finally, his voice soft but edged with tension. “Too many people. Too many distractions.”

“I’ll only go for the exam,” you promised, your voice gentle but firm. “I won’t stay longer than I need to. Just in and out. You can even drop me off and pick me up, if that makes you feel better.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his thumb idly rubbing small circles on your ankle. You could see the conflict in his eyes, his desire to give you what you wanted clashing with his need to control every aspect of your life.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll think about it,” he said, his voice a little more relaxed. “But I don’t want you getting any ideas. You know how much I care about you.”

“I know,” you whispered, relief washing over you even as a knot of anxiety twisted in your stomach. You had planted the seed. Now you just had to hope it would grow into an opportunity, one that you could use to finally reclaim a piece of your freedom.

__________

Three days had passed since that conversation, and the knot in your stomach had only tightened. The exam was fast approaching, and you could feel the weight of it looming over you, just as much as the constant, watchful presence of Jungkook. He hadn’t brought it up again, and you were too afraid to push the topic further just yet. But the clock was ticking, and you knew that soon, you’d have to.

Jungkook had been busier than usual lately, ever since his father passed away. The responsibilities that came with running the family business had doubled, and you could see the strain in his face, in the way he carried himself. He spent hours in his office, buried in paperwork, his attention consumed by the demands of the company. 

You sat on the armchair in the corner of his office, reading the book in your lap, though you hadn’t turned a page in the past thirty minutes. Instead, your eyes kept drifting toward him, watching the focused look on his face as he scribbled notes or typed away at his computer. The tension in the room was palpable, even though neither of you had said a word for the last hour.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair, the fatigue clear in his movements. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples, clearly feeling the pressure of everything on his shoulders. You knew he hated being questioned or distracted when he was like this, but you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Jungkook,” you said softly, careful to keep your tone gentle.

He didn’t look up right away, but you saw the slight tightening of his jaw, a telltale sign that he had heard you. After a moment, he placed his pen down and finally met your gaze.

“What is it sweetheart?” he asked, his voice calm but edged with exhaustion.

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your courage. “I know you’ve been thinking about it… and I appreciate it. But the exam is only a few days away. I really need to know what we’re going to do.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened slightly, but his expression remained controlled. “You don’t need to worry about the exam. You don’t need school anymore. I’m taking care of everything.”

You bit your lip, feeling the familiar frustration bubbling up inside you. “But I’ve worked so hard for this. I need to graduate, Jungkook. I can’t just... quit. You said you’d think about it.”

He let out a long breath, standing up and walking around his desk to where you sat. His eyes softened, but it didn’t comfort you. Instead, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Princess,” he said gently, reaching out to cup your cheek, “I understand that this is important to you. But you don’t need that degree. You have me. I’ll take care of you. You don’t need to go back to that life.”

You pulled away slightly, shaking your head. “That’s not the point. I want to finish this. It’s something I’ve worked for.”

His gaze hardened, just a fraction, but enough for you to notice. “You need to stop thinking about what you want,” he said, his voice firm. “This is what’s best for you. Trust me.”

Your chest tightened as you looked at him, your frustration turning into something sharper, something closer to anger. You had done everything he asked. You had been patient, played the role of the compliant partner, all for this one moment of freedom. And now, he was taking that away too.

“I’ve been patient,” you said, your voice shaking with barely-contained frustration. “I’ve done everything you wanted. But you promised. You said you’d think about it.”

Jungkook’s expression remained unbothered, as though your words had no effect on him. “I did think about it,” he said, his voice cold. “And I’ve decided. You’re not going back to school. You’re staying here, where you belong.” He turned his back to you, walking back to his desk.

That was it. That was the moment everything broke.

Before you even had time to process the fury building inside you, your eyes locked onto the vase on the table next to the armchair. Your mind screamed at you to stop, but your body moved before you could think. In one swift motion, you grabbed the vase, the weight of it grounding you for just a split second before you swung it at him.

The vase hit him on the side of the head with a sickening crack.

Jungkook collapsed to the floor with a groan, his hand flying to his head as he struggled to process what had just happened. Blood seeped through his fingers, and his eyes flickered with shock as he looked up at you.

“Princess…” he rasped, his voice hoarse with confusion and disbelief. “What... what did you-”

You ran.

You bolted for the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you sprinted down the hallway, your mind a whirlwind of panic and adrenaline. The front door to the penthouse was open, a careless mistake on his part, a sliver of luck for you. You didn’t care about anything else anymore. You didn’t care about his control, or even the fear of what he would do if he caught you.

All you wanted was out. Out of this suffocating place, out of this twisted prison he had built around you.

Out of him.

You bolted for the door, heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. The vase clattered to the floor behind you as you sprinted toward the elevator, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You didn’t think, there was no time for thinking. You just knew you had to get out. 

The hallway blurred as you ran, adrenaline surging through your veins. The elevator doors were open, another moment of luck in a twisted series of events. You threw yourself inside, slamming your hand against the button to close the doors as fast as possible. 

The elevator doors slid shut with a quiet hum, sealing you inside. Your hands trembled as you pressed the button for the lobby, willing the elevator to move faster. You had no idea how long it would take for Jungkook to recover, but you knew it wouldn’t be long before he came after you.

As the elevator descended, your chest tightened, each floor feeling like an eternity. You pressed yourself into the corner of the elevator, your whole body shaking as you tried to catch your breath. The reality of what you’d just done hit you all at once, crashing over you like a wave. 

You hit him. 

You hit Jungkook.

But you didn’t regret it. You couldn’t regret it. Not after everything he had done, keeping you trapped, controlling every part of your life.

You closed your eyes, feeling tears sting at the edges, but you fought them back. You didn’t have time to break down now. The elevator dinged softly as it reached the lobby, and you wiped your eyes quickly, forcing yourself to focus. The doors slid open, revealing the bright lights of the ground floor.

Freedom.

You stepped out, your legs weak beneath you, but you forced yourself to keep moving. People were walking past you in the lobby, completely unaware of the storm you had just escaped from upstairs. 

You had no plan, no phone, no money. Still, all that mattered was that you were out. Away from him.

And you weren’t going back.

You burst through the doors of the lobby and into the night, your legs carrying you without direction, just away. Away from Jungkook, away from the suffocating control, away from the penthouse that had been your prison for far too long. You ran blindly through the city streets, heart racing, breath shallow, your feet slamming against the pavement with each desperate step. The cool night air whipped against your face, but it did little to clear the panic clouding your mind.

You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t ask for help. Who would believe you? He was Jeon fucking Jungkook, one of the richest, one of the most powerful men. If you went to the authorities, they’d likely send you straight back to him. Money bought silence, it bought control, and you knew better than anyone just how tightly he held that control.

You needed to disappear. To vanish completely until he couldn’t find you, until he finally gave up. But how??

The thought of going back, of being caught, terrified you more than anything. You needed help. You needed money. That’s when you remembered the necklace hanging around your neck, the one Jungkook had given you. It was expensive, something rare and exclusive, probably worth a fortune. Maybe you could sell it, use the cash to disappear for a little while.

But first, you needed a place to stay. Somewhere safe, at least for the night. Your parents lived too far away. You couldn’t risk reaching out to them, not yet. The only person you could think of was Bora. Sweet, dependable Bora. She had always been there for you, and maybe, just maybe she’d still help you now.

But could you risk getting her involved? If Jungkook found out she helped you, she could get caught in the crossfire. The thought gnawed at you, but you didn’t have many options. Bora worked at the strip club, usually at this time of night. Maybe you could swing by, ask for some quick cash, and move on before Jungkook even had a chance to realize where you’d gone.

You stopped in your tracks, panting, your lungs burning from the nonstop sprint through the city. You bent over, hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. “Breathe”, you told yourself. “Just breathe”.

As you straightened up, your eyes caught something pinned to a streetlight nearby. An old, wrinkled poster. Something familiar.

You took a step closer, squinting under the dim streetlight. The faded ink became clearer. It was a missing person report. Your missing person report. Your own face stared back at you, a photo from what felt like a lifetime ago.

Beneath your name, someone had scribbled something in jagged handwriting.

Rest in peace Angel.

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Cold realization washed over you. I’m dead. Jungkook made sure of it.

The world tilted for a moment as the weight of what he had done finally hit you. Everyone thought you were gone, your family, your friends, anyone who might’ve come looking for you. They had already mourned you, accepted your death. No one was looking for you anymore. As far as the world was concerned, you didn’t exist.

He had erased you.

You staggered back, the noise of the city fading as you stared at the poster, at the brutal, final words scribbled beneath your name. Jungkook had planned this all along, trapping you in his world, and now, even if you ran, you had no identity to run with. 

But you had to run. And you had to survive. You had to find Bora, get enough money to keep moving. The thought of stopping, of letting him catch up to you, was unbearable.

You glanced around, panic rising again, your heart pounding louder than ever. The clock was ticking. You had to go.

You slowed down, heart still racing, trying to steady your breath as you kept moving toward the back of the club. The line stretched on, men jostling for position, but you weren’t going through the front. The bouncers, tall, muscular figures with sunglasses even at night, stood like sentinels at the door, arms crossed, keeping watch over the chaos. 

God, you hated this place. The memories here were bitter, nights spent working, enduring the leering stares, the unwanted touches, the crude jokes. But now, this was the only place you could turn to. The only person you had left was inside. 

You slipped down the alley, the familiar route you used to take when you worked here. The scent of cigarette smoke and alcohol clung to the air, a sharp contrast to the cool breeze brushing against your flushed skin.

You kept your head down, weaving through the crowd toward the back of the building. There was a secret door in the back, hidden from the public, where the staff would slip in and out during shifts. You didn’t have your key anymore, of course, but you remembered the routine. Girls always came out for smoke breaks here.

Your breath hitched as you reached for the door handle, hoping to slip in quietly, unnoticed. But before you could even touch it, the door swung open.

You stumbled back, heart leaping into your throat.

“Oh my god,” a voice muttered, and your eyes shot up to see one of the dancers, Sana, one of the regulars, blinking at you in surprise. She was dressed in her stage outfit, cigarette in hand, her eyes wide as she took you in.

“What the hell...?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “Wait... is that-is that really you?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you grabbed her wrist, pulling her out of the doorway just enough to slip inside, keeping your face hidden as much as you could.

“Sana, I-I need to see Bora,” you whispered, your voice shaky and desperate. “Is she here tonight?”

Sana stared at you, her expression caught between disbelief and alarm. "Wait, wait, hold on-what's going on? You-you're supposed to be-"

“I know,” you cut her off, your voice urgent. “I can’t explain right now. Just... please. I need to see her.”

Sana hesitated for a moment, clearly confused, but then nodded slowly. “She’s inside, on stage. She should be finishing up soon.”

Relief surged through you, though it was mixed with the familiar dread of being in this place again. “Thank you,” you muttered before slipping past her and into the dimly lit hallway.

The familiar thrum of music filled your ears as you made your way down the narrow corridor, past the lockers and dressing rooms. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, perfume, and alcohol, and you could hear the muffled cheers of the crowd beyond the main stage.

You hovered near the dressing rooms, hiding in the shadows, waiting for Bora’s set to finish. Your heart raced with every second that passed, the fear that Jungkook might somehow track you here gnawing at you. You had no idea how much time you had before he realized you were gone, before he started searching.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally saw Bora walking off the stage, her usual confidence dimmed by exhaustion. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and glanced around, heading toward the dressing room. You stepped out from the shadows, your hands trembling.

"Bora."

Her head whipped around at the sound of your voice, her eyes widening as they landed on you. She froze, her face going pale. "Angel... You're-"

"I'm alive," you whispered, stepping closer. "But I need your help. Please, Bora, I don't have much time."

Her eyes darted around the room, panic flashing across her face as she processed the situation. She grabbed your arm, pulling you into the dressing room and slamming the door behind you. "What the hell happened to you? We all thought... we thought you were gone! A body, they found a body-everyone thinks you're dead!"

"I know," you whispered, your voice cracking. "It was Jungkook. He made it look like I was dead. I-I just escaped from him."

Bora's expression shifted from shock to anger. "That bastard. I knew something was off with him. But why come here? If he knows you're here, he's going to come after you. This place isn't safe!"

"I know, but I had nowhere else to go. I need money. I need to disappear, Bora."

She stared at you for a long moment, clearly torn between fear and the instinct to help you. Finally, she nodded, grabbing her purse from the counter. "Okay, okay... I’ll give you whatever cash I have on me. But you can’t stay here. He’ll find you."

You exhaled a shaky breath as she handed you a wad of bills. "Thank you. I won't stay long. I just need a head start."

Bora's eyes softened with concern as she stuffed more money into your hand. "You need to get far away from here. As far as you can."

You nodded, your hands trembling as you stuffed the cash into your pockets. "I will."

But even as you said the words, the lingering fear gnawed at you. How far could you really run from someone like Jungkook?

Bora’s eyes softened as she looked at you, the weight of everything hanging in the air between you. Before you could say anything else, she pulled you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you in a way that made your chest tighten with emotion.

“Please be safe,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the muffled music from the club.

You held on to her for a moment longer, your own arms squeezing her back. It had been so long since anyone had hugged you like that—since anyone had shown you kindness without control attached to it. You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, knowing you didn’t have time to break down. Not here. Not now.

“I’ll try,” you whispered back, your voice shaky. “Thank you, Bora. For everything.”

She pulled back, her hands lingering on your arms for a second before she let you go. “Don’t come back here. Don’t let him find you,” she said, her voice fierce but laced with worry. “Disappear. For good.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I will.”

Before you could make your way toward the door, Bora grabbed your arm again, her eyes scanning you up and down. “Wait,” she said firmly. “You can’t go out there like this. He’ll recognize you immediately. Everyone will.”

You looked down at yourself, your clothes, they were from a life Jungkook had tailored for you, a life that you needed to shed to blend in, to disappear. 

Bora was already moving, digging through her locker and pulling out a simple, dark outfit, one she usually wears going to work and back. “Here,” she said, shoving the clothes into your arms. “Change into this. It'll make it harder for anyone to spot you. Hurry. We don’t have much time.”

Without another word, you quickly pulled off your old clothes and slipped into Bora’s outfit. A dark pair of jeans, with a loose black hoodie and a warm black warm coat. It smelled a lot of perfume. You tied your hair back, glancing at yourself in the mirror.

Bora handed you a cap, adding the finishing touch. “There.” she said, a small, sad smile on her lips.

You gave her a grateful look, feeling your throat tighten. “Thank you,” you whispered again.

Bora pulled you in for another quick, tight hug. “Get out of here, okay? And don’t come back,” she repeated, her voice low and urgent. “He won’t stop if he finds out.”

You nodded, heart pounding as you finished dressing. “I won’t. I promise.”

With that, you headed toward the back exit. 

You had to keep moving. You couldn’t afford to stop.

You pulled the hoodie tightly over your cap, tucking your hair beneath the fabric as you prepared to leave. Your mind raced with one thought: you needed to find a motel. Just for the night, somewhere to lie low until you could sell the necklace.

Pushing open the back door, you stepped into the cool night air, but before you could take another step, a hand grabbed your arm roughly, slamming you against the brick wall of the alley.

"Where are you off to?" a low voice growled, eyes narrowing at you. 

"You're not Bora."

You froze, the shock rendering you speechless. The world blurred around you as you stared at the man who had pinned you. Panic surged through your veins until recognition hit you like a punch to the gut.

Jeong Jaehyun.

One of Jungkook’s closest friends. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as you kept your head down, desperately trying to hide your face. "No... I’m not," you mumbled quickly, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’m her friend. I wasn’t feeling well, so I was sent home."

Jaehyun’s eyes raked over you, suspicion flickering across his features. "You look familiar," he said slowly, his grip tightening for a brief moment.

Your stomach lurched, but you forced a tight smile. "Yeah, well... I work here. Probably seen me around. I really have to go now," you said, your voice barely masking the fear.

You slipped away from his grip, pulling the hoodie tighter around your face, praying he wouldn’t connect the dots.

"Wait-"

Before he could stop you, another voice called out from behind him.

"Jaehyun! Where the hell are you, man? What are you doing back here?"

A distraction.

Without wasting another second, you pushed the door open wide and bolted, your feet slamming against the pavement as you ran down the alley. You could hear Jaehyun calling out behind you, but you didn’t look back.

You couldn’t catch a break. Every time you thought you were one step ahead, something or someone dragged you right back into it. 

__________

Jungkook blinked, his vision swimming as the sharp pain in his head brought him back to the present. His fingers grazed the spot where the vase had hit him, and the warm trickle of blood running down his temple stung, but it wasn’t the pain that consumed him, it was the realization.

She hit me.

His princess, the one he had carefully protected, sheltered, loved, had just hit him and ran. The one he thought had finally understood their connection, their bond. She had betrayed him, and now she was gone.

He staggered to his feet, his breath coming in sharp bursts. The penthouse felt unnervingly quiet, the door slightly ajar, the echoes of her departure lingering like a slap to his face.

She ran.

The thought sent a fresh wave of fury through him. After everything he’d done for her, how he had protected her, made her feel safe, cared for her in ways no one else ever could, and she had the nerve to run?

His fist slammed against the wall, the plaster cracking under the pressure. His vision blurred, clouded by the dark haze of his anger. She thought she could escape him? That she could leave him after everything?

No.

She was his. She belonged to him, and she would always belong to him.

Jungkook stood still for a moment, letting the anger settle into something colder, more focused. He wiped the blood from his knuckles, smearing it across his fingertips before casually brushing it away. His mind was already racing through the next steps.

No matter how much he loved her, no matter how well he treated her, the thought of escape might flicker in her mind. But he had prepared for that. He wasn’t that naive. He wasn’t stupid.

In fact, he had been two steps ahead of her the entire time.

Jungkook reached into his desk drawer, his fingers brushing past papers and folders until he found what he was looking for- a small black device, barely larger than a key fob. He turned it over in his hand, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he thumbed the button on its side.

The tracker.

Weeks ago, when he’d first brought her into his world, he had planted a small tracking chip under her skin. A simple procedure. Harmless, unnoticed. She had no idea, of course. It was for her safety, for their safety. He couldn’t risk losing her.

The tiny chip, embedded beneath her skin in a place she would never think to check, allowed him to always know where she was. It was a precaution, one he had hoped he’d never need to use. But now? Now it was time to activate it.

Jungkook pressed the button on the device, watching as the screen lit up, a small blinking dot appearing on the map. He watched the blinking dot on the tracker screen, his expression calm, almost serene. She was running, heart pounding, mind probably racing with thoughts of escape. She thought she had outsmarted him, thought she had finally broken free.

Let her think that.

His fingers lightly traced over the small red dot on the screen, his smile widening. He could go after her now, catch her within the hour. But where was the fun in that? Where was the lesson? No, she needed to feel the weight of her decision, the consequences of trying to leave him. She needed to believe that freedom was within her reach, only to have it yanked away when he decided the time was right.

This wasn’t just about finding her. It was about showing her that she had never truly escaped. That she could run, hide, try to slip away into the cracks of the city, but he would always know where she was. Because she was his, and nothing could change that.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing on the blinking dot that represented her. He’d give her time, just enough to think she’d won. Let her scramble, desperate and afraid. Let her believe that she was outsmarting him, that she had carved out a sliver of freedom.

But in reality, she was playing a game where the rules had already been set, and he held all the pieces.

He could wait. After all, the longer she thought she was free, the sweeter it would be when he finally pulled her back into his world.

Let her run. Let her think she had won.

But when he decided it was time—he’d make sure she knew that freedom had never really been hers to take.

Jungkook wiped the blood from his temple, his head still throbbing from the blow, but his lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. 

“Run all you want, Princess,” he muttered under his breath, his voice low and venomous, his fingers tightening around the edge of the desk as he steadied himself.

“I’ll always find you.”

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (18) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request: closed

note: some angst ?? but it's heartwarming... smut ofc because we are so back ! jk and oc finally kiss again (and can't stop) and so he fingers her. they sort of... talk things out??? def on the right path to their happily ever after <3

//

one thing jungkook and zion have in common (aside from being each other's splitting image) is that they’re both grumpy when sick.

last night, when zion slept over at jungkook’s, he was whiny and snappy. he cried a few times, sobbing for you (he's also been going through separation anxiety with you regardless. being sick just makes it feel extra awful). it worried jungkook since whenever zion was sick, you were always around. you were always the one to take care of him, and even if jungkook wanted to help, zion would throw a fit and refuse to let him near.

he can’t blame his son, though.

jungkook is the same.

when he’s sick, he only wants you. only you could nurse the sickness away. only you could make him feel better.

as the sun came up, zion woke up in a tired, slow mood. he wasn’t snappy or grumpy per se, but he was definitely out of it. jungkook checked his temperature (it was normal) and even added oranges to his snack box for the extra vitamin c. it’s a little chilly today; the sky looks like it has plans to cry soon, so he dresses zion in an extra layer. then, he lets you know what’s going on, drops zion off at daycare, and tells zion’s educators that he’s feeling a little under the weather.

jungkook repeats over and over again: "please call me if he’s really not feeling up for it today. he doesn’t have to be sick sick, okay? just call me if he even tells you guys he’s tired. i have a meeting, but i’ll come right when it’s over… that’ll be around 11 a.m."

at 11:28 a.m., zion’s daycare calls jungkook to say that zion spent the entire morning sleeping and then woke up to throw up.

at 11:31 a.m., he texts you.

by 11:45 a.m., he rushes into the daycare, grabbing zion’s backpack and holding him with his other arm.

… and holy shit, is it awful.

zion is kicking and screaming, bawling his eyes out because he doesn’t want jungkook. he’s uncomfortable and running really hot. jungkook is trying to sign zion out as his educators quickly update him on the details of zion’s morning.

jungkook can’t hear a thing.

he just keeps thinking to himself: fuck, i wish ___ were here.

hustling to leave, jungkook’s feet come to a halt at the door.

it’s pouring rain.

he hisses, feeling like he will lose his mind in the next five seconds. everything is so overstimulating and heavy. zion’s sobs grow louder with each passing moment he’s in jungkook’s arms. zion’s backpack isn’t even zipped up properly, so some of his things are falling out—and holy fuck, why is it raining so fucking much?

then, it gets worse.

jungkook’s car is parked four blocks away. he suddenly remembers this as he scans the area and feels even more helpless.

he takes a deep breath and accepts his fate. he accepts that zion will be crying in the car the whole ride long. he accepts that the backpack he’s carrying will be empty by the second block. he accepts that he and zion will be drenched in rain and probably get sick soon, too.

he accepts his fate.

“zion, daddy parked the car far away. i’m really sorry, buddy. can you take some deep breaths for me before we go? we’re going to get wet, and it’s hard for daddy to focus if you’re crying like this—”

zion hits jungkook’s shoulders and sobs even harder. “no! i don’t want to get wet! i don’t want you! i only want mommy—”

“she’s coming, zion. mommy will be at the house—”

“no!” zion cries, shaking his head profusely. “i want mommy now!”

jungkook can’t help but tear up. zion is burning up. his small hands clutch onto jungkook’s shirt, and his face is flushed with fever. he shifts slightly in jungkook’s arms, letting out a tired whimper. jungkook’s heart twists.

he stares at the rain pouring down, watching it hit the pavement in heavy sheets.

just 4 blocks.

he’d done it a hundred times before—walked this exact route, held zion in his arms when things got tough. but for the first time in his whole fatherhood, he doesn’t know how to be one. not that he’s a pro and has known what to do for the past three years—but he was usually better than this. he knows how to calm zion down. he knows how to hold his son and walk four blocks. he knows tough days… but for some reason, right now feels impossible.

it feels like he’s stuck.

it feels like shit.

he takes a deep breath, his mind racing as he prepares to step into the rain.

“we’ll be okay,” he murmurs, more to himself than to zion, who is now resting his head on jungkook’s shoulder. every muscle in jungkook’s body is tense, ready to sprint through the storm if that’s what it takes. “daddy’s fast. okay, zi? but i’m going to need your help for extra speed. can you take a deep breath and count with me? let’s go in three, two, one—”

just as jungkook is about to step into the rain, there you are.

“zion!” your voice calls out.

you appear out of nowhere, stepping into view with an umbrella in hand. your eyes lock with jungkook’s; they’re filled with concern but somehow steady, reassuring. it’s like you know exactly when to show up, like you always do.

no call, no texts—just… there.

thank god.

jungkook exhales, feeling the weight of everything lift just a little. maybe timing isn’t something you can plan or force, but somehow, it always feels right when it comes to you. truth be told, you have this way of arriving just when everything feels like it’s slipping out of control—like the universe is telling jungkook he’s destined to wait for you.

to live life with you.

to be with you.

to love you.

zion gasps, quickly wiping his own tears.

“mommy!” he exclaims, his voice thin but full of excitement. “mommy! come here, please! i want you! okay? daddy—it’s mommy! see? over there? yellow umbrella…”

jungkook follows zion’s gaze and watches as you cross the street.

“yeah,” jungkook sighs softly, brushing a hand through zion’s damp hair. “look at that… mommy came for you, zi.”

zion smiles tiredly, his face softening despite the fever’s flush. “cos she loves me.”

“she does,” jungkook chuckles, pressing a light kiss to zion’s forehead. “i love zion too.”

zion huffs, crossing his arms weakly before whining in that small way only toddlers could. “no. i only want mommy’s love—oh, oh, oh! my mommy—” he wriggles in jungkook’s arms, reaching out towards you.

jungkook feels the shift in zion’s body, the way his little arms reach out desperately for you. it’s as if you are the only thing that could make the world feel right again.

finally, beside them, you step forward, and jungkook loosens his hold. gently, he transfers zion into your waiting arms. zion nestles against you instantly, his tired body finding comfort in the way you hold him—the way only you could.

jungkook stands there for a moment, watching you two. a small pang of something—loss, maybe—passes through him. but it isn’t about that. it isn’t about pride or who could soothe zion better.

it’s about the way zion relaxes, finally at peace in your arms, and how the pouring rain is nothing compared to the sunshine you radiate.

then, jungkook sighs. his heart is heavy and warm at the same time. with his parents taking zion over the weekend, jungkook only really had him for one cranky night and this hectic morning.

now, it’s noon, and it’s crystal clear that he isn’t enough for zion.

today, he failed.

… and that’s okay.

as much as parenting is about getting things right, it’s also about getting things wrong. this? this is what parenting is too—knowing when to step back, to let someone else be the safe place. as much as it stings, it is also filled with relief.

zion is safe.

zion is loved.

… and in the end, that’s all that matters.

as zion settles into your arms, jungkook takes the umbrella from you. he steps into the rain, holding the umbrella for you two. patting zion’s back, you whisper reassuring things into his ears. he giggles and begins to babble about how much he missed you. he requests noodles and to sleep on the couch tonight. you tell him no, that his bed is better. he doesn’t fight you. instead, he asks if he can get a lollipop for his sore throat. you grant that request.

“nam joon just sent me here by uber… but i think it left already. where’s your car?” you ask jungkook.

“it’s 4 blocks away. should I go get it—”

“it’s fine,” you decide. “let’s walk there together. are you okay? you look kind of—”

“mr. and mrs. jeon?”

you both turn your heads to see zion’s teacher come out. she has two small containers in her hand and zion’s water bottle. she jogs over despite the rain.

“oh! thank goodness i caught you two. these are zion’s—” she hands the items to jungkook. he opens zion’s bag and puts the things inside. “... and i just wanted to remind you we have show and tell next week. i meant to mention it earlier when mr. jeon was signing zion out but forgot. anyways, get home safe and get well soon, zion!”

“thank you,” jungkook nods. “thanks for calling too.”

zion’s teacher smiles warmly. “no worries! zion is so precious to us. even when he has his days… i don’t think i’m supposed to say this, but—he’s our favorite. he’s always curious and funny. he’s kind and organized for a 3-year-old… probably gets that from you two, huh? he always talks about you two. he loves you guys so much and always draws family pictures of you at home.”

your heart melts.

“... and honestly? i’ve never seen you two pick zion up together, and my colleagues and i all talk about how much you two suit each other… seeing it in person—together? wow. you look like you were destined to be a family.”

jungkook’s heart melts.

you two laugh and thank her for her kind words. they don’t make you feel awkward… if anything, they make you smile. to be known and loved—to have people believe in you two… it’s different. it’s something else.

it’s something real.

as zion’s teacher bids her goodbye, you and jungkook share a look.

“let’s go?”

jungkook nods, follows your lead, and trails a few steps behind you.

he holds the umbrella high above you and zion, making sure the rain doesn’t touch either of you. you glance back, catching a glimpse of his shoulders already soaked after just a few steps in, his hair dripping with rain while yours and zion’s remain dry.

suddenly, you feel a rush of warmth and frustration all at once.

he does this every time—always putting himself last, always making sure you and zion are okay first. it’s one of the ways he loves; you know that. quietly, without asking for anything in return. but right now, as you feel the warmth of zion’s little body against yours, dry and protected under the umbrella, something twists inside you.

fuck.

you hate it so much.

“jungkook…” you start, your voice soft, but he shakes his head before you can say more, a small smile playing on his lips.

“i’m fine,” he says, like he always does, eyes darting briefly to zion nestled in your arms, then back to you. there’s something so gentle in that look, and it’s enough to silence you. because you know—he’s doing this because he wants to, because this is how he loves. he won’t let you carry the weight alone, not even for a second.

still, it frustrates you.

watching him like this, so selfless and soaked, makes you want to pull him under the umbrella, to wrap him up and shield him the way he does for you. but you know he wouldn’t let you. you sigh, biting back the urge to protest. instead, you adjust zion in your arms and glance back at him, hoping he knows.

and he does.

because when your eyes meet his, there’s a moment—unspoken, quiet—where you don’t have to say a word. in the way you look at him. he can feel it: the gratitude, the love, the quiet ache of wanting him to take care of himself, too... and maybe he feels it too because the smile he gives you is softer this time. a little more knowing.

you wish you could pull him closer, but in your own way, you love him back. you hold zion a little tighter, taking care of what he holds dear to his heart, just as he takes care of both of you.

as the rain pours harder, he stays a step behind, soaked but steady, and you walk together in the silence, knowing without words that love isn’t always about who gets wet and who stays dry.

sometimes, it’s about who’s willing to stand in the rain for you.

the car ride was quiet. 

you sat in the back, holding zion’s hand the entire time. zion fell asleep but would shift and murmur, “mommy, mommy…” 

jungkook drove carefully and often glanced back at you two. he isn’t sure why, but he kind of really loves this moment. it reminds him of the day you two were bringing zion home from the hospital. 

he loves the way you are with his son. 

he loves you so much. 

when you get home, zion is attached to you by the hip. he throws a tantrum when jungkook pulls him away from you so he and zion could go take a bath together while you get started on chicken noodle soup for lunch. jungkook struggles and feels bad for ripping zion away from you, but doesn’t take it to heart. 

zion is just like this when he’s sick. 

once their bath is finished, zion comes running to you from the washroom. jungkook follows along, drying his hair with a towel. you pick up zion and set him on his chair, prepared to feed him. 

from the corner of your eye, you see jungkook put his jacket on and search his pockets for his keys. 

“are you leaving?” you ask, feeding zion a spoonful. “i made you lunch too. please stay—”

“i’m gonna go buy some medicine for him,” jungkook says. “and those lollipops for sore throat? does he even have a sore throat?”

you laugh. “don’t think so. we got into a bad habit of giving him them every time he’s sick though… might as well go along with it. at least they make him feel better.”

jungkook chuckles, “whatever you want, honey—”

he clears his throat. 

“sorry.”

you shrug. “don’t be.”

he offers you half a smile and ruffles zion’s hair before heading to the door. as he puts on his shoes and opens the door, you call for him once more. 

“drive safe, okay?” 

“i will.”

“go to the pharmacy on 11th. it’s the closest and they sell the apple flavour cough syrup he likes.”

“i will.���

“the lollipops are usually hidden behind their stash of kids tylenol. so look behind the tylenol.”

“i will.”

“honey?”

“mhmm?”

“go and come back quickly.”

jungkook doesn’t turn back. instead, he smiles to himself and lets his heart flutter. biting his inner cheek, he attempts to act cool. 

“i will.”

the day goes by fast. 

jungkook came back with everything zion could possibly need. after giving zion his medicine, jungkook scrafed down the lunch you made him. it didn’t take long for zion to fall asleep. in fact, he fell asleep right away. 

as you place zion on his bed, you kiss his forehead and take his temperature again. his fever is still high but it should get better in a few hours. you’ll check on him again in a bit. shutting the door to his door, you take a deep breath and head to the living room where jungkook is on his laptop, finishing up a few things for work. 

“how’s his fever?” jungkook asks. 

“still high,” you reply, taking a seat next to him on the couch. peaking over, you notice the pharmacy bag jungkook left on the coffee table. you lean forward and take it. bringing it to the kitchen with intentions to throw it away, you notice another box left inside.

reaching your hand in, you take it out thinking it’s just another type of medicine jungkook got for zion. to your surprise, it’s a box of condoms. 

condoms. 

you and jungkook don’t fuck with condoms. 

quickly, the feeling of betrayal kicks in. how could he do this? what does this even mean? was he sleeping with someone else? or worse… does he not want more babies with you? that’s fucked up. it’s so fucking fucked up. seriously, what the actul fuck—

“sorry, i was submitting something. what did you say?” jungkook calls out. 

you snap out of your thoughts and put the box back inside the plastic bag. you set it on the kitchen island and go back to join him on the couch. sitting yourself down, you inch closer to him. 

“his fever is still high… but i’ll check again after an hour or two. the medicine probably just needs to settle in… i hate sick season. not only is everyone around us sick, but zion can be—”

“mean?”

“i was gonna say needy…”

jungkook laughs sarcastically and shuts his laptop. placing it to the side, he sighs. 

“he hated me today.”

“that can’t be true—”

“oh,” jungkook snickers. “he hated me. he only wanted you. i felt so helpless when i went to pick him up. i’m glad you came… i’m guessing they contacted you too?”

you nod. “yeah. i was about to start this new case when i got the call. told nam joon i had to leave and have someone else take my client—”

wide-eyed, jungkook shifts. “you lost a client today because i—”

“no,” you say sternly. “that’s not what i meant.”

jungkook pauses. 

then, it hits him. 

it’s been like this for a while, hasn’t it? constantly miscommunicating and assuming things between you two rather than spending the time and effort to figure things out. 

“... is it okay if i stay the night? i know we’re broken up or whatever but i’d really like to stay and help out as much as i can. i know he doesn’t want me around and you probably have this shit handled—”

“stay,” you tell him, reaching for his hand. you hold it tight and run your thumb across his knuckles. you press on the little letter ‘z’ on his hand. “... and i hate this. i need you to know that i hate this.”

“what do you—”

you don’t know what comes over you, but something does. it just does and you can’t help it. maybe it’s the box of condoms. maybe it’s the fact that this is the first time you’re alone with him in 2 weeks…

maybe it’s just time. 

“i don’t want to be broken up,” you confess, eyes glossy. “i fucked up. you fucked up. this? this is so fucking fucked up… i miss you, jungkook. i know i’m confusing and i’m a pile of broken parts—but all i know is that even though we’re not together; i don’t want to be broken up. i can’t—i don’t want it. i can’t live without you, jungkook. this is so hard. i don’t want it to be this fucking hard—”

“okay, okay—”

“and i hate that you walk in the rain for us,” you choke on your own words. “next time i’m not bringing an umbrella. we’re a family, honey. either we all walk under the umbrella or we walk in the rain together.”

“okay—”

“and why do you have a box of condoms?” you blurt out. “do you not want to have babies with me anymore? or are you sleeping with—”

“don’t even fucking finish that sentence.”

jungkook glares at you, eyes piercing and heart racing. 

you gulp.

“why do you have a box of condoms?” 

he shrugs. “yoongi called and asked me to pick him up a box. he’s going through his slut era.” 

your shoulders slump.

“i’m sorry i—i shouldn’t have looked and i shouldn’t have assumed—”

jungkook shakes his head. “no, no… it’s okay. this is good. i want you to talk about stuff like this with me. to say anything to me, really. i wait for your texts and calls all day… you have no idea how much i cried after we took zion to the kids cafe. how—for a moment—it felt like we were us again. god, ___… i want us again—mmhpfftt—”

on your bed, you and jungkook make out. 

he’s on top (sort of. you two are laying together) and he uses one hand to cup your jaw. his lips feel soft and slippery as you reach and deepen the kiss. 

jungkook slips his tongue in every now and then, exploring your mouth as if it’s his first time kissing you… and by how he does this; it truly does feel like that. he kisses you so good, it’s hard to pull away. you don’t need air. you need him and his fucking kisses. 

“missed you,” he murmurs against your lips. 

you smile and pucker up. 

he kisses you again. 

“love you.”

you giggle as he digs himself into the crook fo your neck. 

“yah, i’m gonna be bad if you don’t say you love me back.”

“bad?”

“bad.”

you laugh and shift.

he pops his head back out and gives you a playful glare. staying silent, he takes that as a sign. before you know it, you feel him tugging your pajama shorts and underwear down. you gasp as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucks on them, and then slips them between your fold without uttering a warning. 

“w-wait—”

jungkook crashes his lips onto yours. he kisses you tender and soft, distracting you from the fact that he just shoved a finger inside you. 

you moan as you feel him curl inside. he pumps his fingers in and out, then uses his thumb to circle your clit. you pull away from him, and he smirks as he watches your facial expressions change. 

your eyebrows furrow, then they don’t. 

your mouth parts and tiny moans escape your puffy lips. 

the corner of your lips twitches every time jungkook hits the right spot. 

it’s all just so beautiful. he loves seeing how pretty you are when you take him. he can’t help but lean in and kiss you every so often. 

jungkook continues to finger you. your pussy is so wet, it’s a breeze finger fucking it. jungkook also can’t fucking look away. god, he loves watching you. he loves how you shut your eyes and murmur his name. he loves that you pout every time you want him to kiss you… which he does. he gives it to you. all the kisses in the world—he gives you his. 

 “what’s the matter?” jungkook teases you. “why you making that face?”

you gasp as jungkook fastens his speed. he rubs you like there’s no tomorrow. 

“h-holy sh-shit!” you cry, reaching to hold onto his wrist. "uh, uh, mhmm! f-fuck..."

he lets you. 

jungkook cups your jaw with his other hand and looks into your pretty eyes. your eyes sparkle with desperation—a plead if you will. 

make me cum. 

��cute,” jungkook hisses. “so fucking cute.” 

you mimic his hiss as he continues to finger you. your stomach twitches and your hips jolt. he lets out a light laugh when your body reacts like this. 

“d-don’t laugh. takes y-you like 5 seconds t-to cum when i suck your d-dick—”

as your lips meet again—this time—time stops. 

the world around you two fades into a soft blur.

the warmth radiating from jungkook ignites something deep within you. it’s a gentle exploration at first, a soft brush of lips that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. You can feel his breath against your skin, warm and inviting, urging you closer.

the kiss deepens, transforming from hesitant sweetness to a fervent dance of longing. he adds another finger, earning a moan from you. he snickers against your lips. regardless, there’s a softness to the way he holds you. there’s a tenderness that belies the heat building between you two. every gentle press of his mouth is like an unspoken promise, a connection that draws you in, making you forget the rest of the world.

making you forget about time. 

you responds eagerly, leaning into him, feeling the pulse of their shared rhythm. his lips are a perfect fit against yours. it’s intoxicating. the way he kisses you is a mix of passion and reverence, as if every moment spent in this embrace is sacred. 

the taste of him lingers—sweet and a little bit electric, leaving you craving more.

soon, his hand on your jaw slides down to the hem of your frilly top. you comply to his hints and slide your spaghetti straps off. he then tugs your top down to your stomach, revealing your breasts. eagerly, he brings palms them. then, he brings his hand back to your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss further. you can feel his heartbeat matching yours, a silent conversation between their souls. 

in this moment, there’s no past, no future—only the here and now. 

“f-fuck—” you pull away, feeling the rushing burn and intensity of your climax. "honey—"

“what’s wrong, honey?” jungkook messes with you. “what’s the matter?”

“i’m gonna—nghhh!”

jungkook finishes you off. he fingers you fast and hard. you lose your breath, trying to soak in this orgasm. as you reach your high, you feel it. as much as you want to tell him to slow down and stop; you can’t. you can’t because you know what’s coming—

you squirt. 

“oh my god, oh my god, oh m-my—”

“fuck. yeah? that’s it, mama.” jungkook mumbles, taking his fingers out and gently rubbing in between your folds. your pussy tightens and you honestly see stars all around the room. 

jungkook catches this look and chuckles. he leans in, kissing you once more. you chase after his lips when he pulls away. catching your breath, your foreheads touch. both slightly dazed, you pucker your lips and kiss his cheeks and neck. then, you catch his gaze, a mix of mischief and sincerity in his eyes, and know they’ve crossed a threshold. 

it’s more than just a kiss; it’s a promise of what’s to come, something profound that lingers in the space between them.

“love you.”

“love you too.”

jungkook wakes up as he feels zion climbing into bed with you. sleepily, he places the back of his hand on zion’s forehead, but zion shifts away, groggy and fussy, swatting jungkook’s hand aside before snuggling closer to you.

you shift and reach over to feel zion’s forehead; he lets you.

“still has a fever,” you say, your voice dry and half-asleep. with your eyes still closed, you decide, “no daycare today.”

jungkook hums in agreement, feeling the warmth radiating from his son. he then moves closer to you two, putting his arm around zion. but zion huffs, grumbling in annoyance, and moves jungkook’s arm away, throwing his own over your body instead. you wrap your arms around zion, feeling his small frame relax against you.

jungkook sleepily opens his eyes and can’t help but feel left out.

“i hate you,” he groans, a playful pout forming on his lips. “why does he hate me so much when he’s sick?”

you let out a sleepy laugh, glancing at zion's scowling face. his little brow is furrowed, and he mutters, “daddy, stop. i don’t like you.”

the comment makes you chuckle. you hold zion tighter and kiss his cheeks, but he scrunches his face in irritation, clearly only wanting you to soothe him.

jungkook huffs, sitting up in disbelief. “you know he loves you—”

“i’m making breakfast,” jungkook mumbles, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “want some coffee?”

you hum, your eyes still heavy with sleep. “i’d love some coffee,” you tell him. “... but i don’t have a coffee maker.”

jungkook nods, fully gaining consciousness now. “that’s fine. i’ll go out and buy some. i’ll be back.”

“okay,” you yawn, smiling at him. “sounds good, honey.”

as he gets up, zion whines softly, shifting closer to you, his little body still grumpy and unwilling to be touched by anyone but you. he buries his face in your side, and you can’t help but smile at the way he clings to you, seeking comfort while remaining stubbornly resistant to jungkook’s affection.

by the time you and zion wake up and wash up, jungkook has a whole breakfast spread ready on the kitchen island.

“wow!” you say with excitement. “zi, look! daddy made so much breakfast—”

“no.” zion turns his cheek. "no thank you daddy."

“no? no thank you daddy?” jungkook chimes in, approaching zion. he offers his arms and zion turns his cheek at his own father. 

“no daddy. only mommy.” 

jungkook hisses. “yah, zion… it’s a little much now. i’m beginning to take it personally.” 

you laugh and reach for him. placing your hand on jungkook’s cheek, you run your thumb against his lips. “hi, honey. good morning. thanks for breakfast.”

jungkook smiles and leans over to you, ignoring zion being trapped in the middle. he kisses you softly. 

“good morning, beautiful—”

“no!” zion pushes jungkook’s chest. “stop it. my mommy. no kissing my mommy.”

jungkook rolls his eyes. “zi, do you know you wouldn’t exist right now if i didn’t kiss mommy?”

“honey!”

jungkook laughs and playfully pokes zion. at first, zion doesn’t like it but he breaks character and cracks a smile. soon enough, he begins to laugh and reaches for jungkook. happily, jungkook takes his child and shows him all the food he prepared. 

you watch them and can’t help but just feel… good. relieved and happy. 

it’s been a long time since you felt this way. 

jungkook hands you your coffee. you thank him and sip it. it tastes good. it tastes familiar, it tastes comforting… it tastes like it’s exactly what you need. 

“oh,” jungkook reaches inside his pocket and takes a box out. “this is for you.”

tiffany and co. 

you look at him, eyes wide and throat dry. 

jungkook bounces zion a few times before swinging him around. he then puts him down and points to his toys on the living room floor. zion smiles and runs to his toys. while jungkook is bent down, he changes his position and settles on one knee. 

he looks up at you.

“when i said that your career got in the way of us—that’s not what i meant to say. what i meant to say is that i missed you. back then, it felt like every time you came home; you just came home. you weren’t coming home to me—”

“jungkook, please understand that—”

“no,” he sniffs. “part of me fears that if i understand, i’ll agree with you—that we’ve messed up too much to fix this, that this is where we end. but i refuse to accept that. so, here’s my conclusion: even when i don’t understand you, i’ll love you through it. i will see through it. as crazy as it sounds, i believe in you more than myself. you won’t let me down, okay? i want to understand, even if i keep failing. just let me try—for the rest of my life. i love you, ___. i want to come home. i want to come home to you.”

he then opens the box and reveals the ring. 

it’s beautiful. 

“___, will you marry me?”

yes.

you want to say yes.

instead, you say; “what about new york?”

jungkook swallows.

“the offer is mine for one more week,” he explains. “new york is mine if i want it… but you’re what i want.”

“jungkook…”

“please,” he begs. “i don’t want to choose.”

you take a breath. 

“are you asking—no—telling me to?” you ask, your heart racing.

he doesn’t answer, and silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words. each second feels like a lifetime, the weight of his gaze pulling you in. you can feel your pulse quicken, a mix of excitement and fear swirling inside you.

“is it really one or the other?” you finally ask, breaking the tension.

“i don’t know,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.

what does it mean to choose?

to say yes to one dream over another? the prospect of new york glimmers like a distant star, bright and promising, yet here in this moment, everything else fades. it’s just the two of you, the air is thin (as my waist).

you want to say yes, to embrace all the hurt and finally take it all... but doubts creep in—what if you choose him and he regrets it? what if you both lose everything? the future looms ahead, uncertain and daunting, but there’s also a warmth in your chest, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, love is enough because timing is on your side. that maybe, after all these years falling asleep next to him; you two dream the same dream.

“jungkook,” you finally breathe, feeling the weight of your decision. the world outside blurs as you focus on the man in front of you, the man who has laid his heart bare. can love really be enough to hold you both together?

his eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. in this moment, every hesitation fades. you know that whatever you choose will shape not just your future, but both of yours.

you take a deep breath, the anticipation heavy in the air, and feel the gravity of the moment.

as you look into his eyes, you see a reflection of your own uncertainty mingled with hope. there’s something electric between you, an unspoken understanding that transcends words. the way he holds your gaze makes your heart race, a silent promise hanging in the balance.

time seems to stretch like a taut string, each heartbeat echoing in the silence as you search for answers in each other’s eyes. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment. in this stillness of you and jungkook, you two want the same things;

for time to be on your side.

for love to be enough.

for the choice to be right.

[kavehater]

AURGHH I KEEP FLASHBACKING TO THE AWKWARD SITUATION TODAY

[endlessthxxghts]

Full

Frankie Morales x afab!Reader

Summary: You want Frankie to knock you up, and fuck, does he wants that, too. W/C: 1k. (I actually stuck to the word count this time… but at what insanely hot cost?😵‍💫) 18+ MDNI: Implied established relationship. Literally 0% plot and 100% PORN. Unprotected P in V sex. MAJOR BREEDING KINK. Cumming inside. Slight daddy kink (in the sense that you wanna make Frankie a daddy🫶🏼). One (1) pussy slap. Multiple orgasms. Overstimulation kink. Finger fucking. Pics for aesthetic purposes only.

A/N: This lil drabble is a part of my 1k follower celebration in response to this yummy request made by @javierpena-inatacvest😵‍💫 Please take a deep breath and get comfortable while you read this… ANYWAY, happy Valentine’s Day everyone!!! What better way to celebrate than with Frankie and his breeding kink?😋 Hope you guys enjoy, and please do let me know what you guys think!!!! I love love love your feedback (or- in other words) !!!🤭

MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG

“Fuck, Frankie…”

“Taking it so good, querida, fuck-”

“Please- shit- please, Frankie, don’t stop.”

“I’m not, baby,” he moans, eyes threatening to succumb to the back of his skull, “Not gonna fucking stop until you’re full of me, baby, yo prometo.” I promise. 

“Sh-shit, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, ohmygod-” your eyes clamp shut, your jaw hangs open, ass up in the air as your tears and drool soak the pillow beneath your face. 

Frankie speeds up, pummeling into you hard and fast, his large hands coasting the surface of your ass and your back, groaning at the way you twitch and writhe underneath him. His hands settle at your waist, gripping you tightly, accentuating the arch of you. He’s so fucking deep at this angle, you can feel him hitting your cervix with each thrust forward. It’s an addicting sensation right now—and it will be even later, when the dull ache overtakes you. “Give it to me,” he breathes, “cum all over my cock, querida, needa feel you.”

His hand snakes around to your front, the pad of his fingers meeting your clit, rubbing it in the perfect motion that sends you reeling. Fireworks—no, dynamite, explodes behind the dark of your eyelids, your head adopting that fuzzy feeling, your body following suit not long after. “So fucking good, you feel so fucking good, Frankie, oh my God- oh fuck-” you ramble partially incoherently. 

Your thighs are jello, unable to keep yourself up as Frankie continues fucking into you; his arm wraps around your middle, his other pawing at your breast. He pulls you up to be flush against his chest as he begs your alter for his own release. “I’m c- mierda- I’m close,” he whimpers right at your ear. 

Mustering up as much strength as you can, you twist your head to face him, your hand reaching up and rooting yourself at the back of his messy curls. You yank his head towards you, crashing his mouth against yours. It’s sloppy and wet, swallowing each other’s tongues whole as the thickness of your shared breaths melt into one. Breaking away with a bite to his kiss-swollen lower lip, you whisper into his mouth, “cum inside me, Frankie, please.”

“Baby-” he chokes, his hips speed up, arousing him beyond what he thought was possible. “Want you in me for days, Francisco,” you whimper, licking a stripe on his neck, collecting the salty liquid running down. His hand makes its way back to your throbbing bud. 

Your body goes lax in his hold, you secure your grip at the base of his neck, keeping your faces close to each other. He watches with heavy eyes as you struggle to keep your gaze on his, your brows furrowing slightly as your eyelids begin to flutter. “Need you-” you start, a throaty moan cutting you off. “Need you inside me- need you to fuck it so deep, baby,” you sob, “that it has no choice but to fucking take- fuck-”

Frankie’s heart stutters and his cock twitches. “Yeah?” he grits between his teeth. “Want me to fuck you full?” A particularly hard thrust sends you cross-eyed, your nails digging into his neck. “Want me to fucking get you pregnant right now, baby?” 

An appreciative little slap to your slippery clit jolts your eyes open, his lustful gaze with a hint of something more—like adoration, like pure devotion—stares you down. You pull him into you once more, a clash of spit and teeth and tongue—you can even taste a hint of your own arousal from when he ate you out before you were begging him to knock you up. “Please- fuck- yes, baby, yes- fucking- let me make you a daddy, baby, please- want you- need it- need you so fucking bad-”

Fuck. Frankie’s pace falters, his hips stammer as his orgasm consumes him—his cum painting your warm walls, filling you up to the brim. You moan at the sensation, your hips thrusting backwards into him, and before you realize it, you’re cumming again, both your bottom halves an utter mess of each other’s arousal. 

Frankie softly slips from your heat, and you both hiss at the loss. He releases his hold on you, guiding you onto your back, his hands settling on the insides of your thighs to keep you open for him. His eyes can’t leave the way your pussy looks right now—completely fucked out, shiny with your slick, and filled with his cum. You feel it start to leak out of your hole, and you whine, the feeling so sensitive but dizzying, knowing you’re overflowing with Frankie. 

Before you know it, his fingers are collecting the dripping spend, bringing it back to your entrance, and slowly, his fingers enter you, the initial push inward causing more of his cum to seep out of you, but he’s quick to catch the leakage, pushing it back inside of you, where it needs to be. 

With one hand holding one thigh down and the other inside of your sex, Frankie’s entranced, starting up a delicious pace fucking into you with his fingers. You’re a moaning mess of curses mixed with his name, overstimulation taking over your body, but you don’t want him to stop. 

He couldn’t even if he tried. He’s too caught up in the notion that after this, his sperm could latch, and in nine months from now, you’d be big and round and glowing carrying the product of your love. Fuck, he needs this to work. He’ll fill you up every fucking day if that’s what it takes. 

He’s pulled from his trance when a heady moan roars from your throat, “F-fuck, fuck, Frankie, I’m gonna fucking cum again! Oh my god, baby- fuck-” 

His eyes are on your face: pure ecstasy, he’s seeing, in the way your head throws back into your pillow, only the white of your eyes showing, as the veins pop out your neck as you scream out in pleasure. 

He slides his fingers out, slick with a mixture of both of your arousal, and brings it up to your mouth. He knows how much you love to taste. 

Immediately you open up, lapping up your combined flavors greedily, a content, blissful smile plastered lazily on your face. 

“Am I full, baby?” You mumble. 

“So full, querida,” he whispers, laying his body over yours, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. 

“Do you think…” you trail off softly, nervous. 

“I don’t know, mi amor,” he breathes, kissing your chest. “Guess we’ll just have to keep you full everyday until we can check, huh?” 

Your cheeks heat up, your exhausted pussy already fluttering in anticipation. “Y-yeah. I guess so.” 

End note: LOLOL GUYS I, UH.. I REALLY WENT HARD ON THIS ONE, I'M SORRY BUT ALSO I'M NOT SORRY ASDFGFDFH PLS LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK <3 YOUR GUYS' WORDS MEAN THE WORLD TO ME, I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH Also how you doing, babe @javierpena-inatacvest?? You alive? Still with me?? I LOVE YOU AHAHAHAH

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Their reaction to tears (Stan & Ford)

Stan

Perhaps from the outside it seems that Stan is not a very sentimental guy. It’s wrong. Yeah, hugs make him feel nervous if they go on too long, and feelings? He’s spent most of his life avoiding those altogether. So when Stan sees you crying, his first reaction is to freeze. He’s really lost. And it’s you, so he can’t just brush it off or pretend it’ll go away. Not when you’re standing there, your shoulders shaking like that.

“Aw, kid. . .” he finally steps closer, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly feeling out of place. His eyes flicker over you, taking in your trembling hands, the hiccuping breaths.

He doesn't ask you for an explanation, he doesn't force you to pour out your soul. He knows that sometimes silence is better than any conversation, but the way he rubs slow circles into your back, the way his chin rests atop your head, you know he’s there. It's not very graceful embrace. It’s more like you’re getting wrapped up in a bear hug that’s meant to keep the rest of the world out. He squeezes you tight, maybe a little too tight, because that’s all he knows how to do. Hold on and hope it helps.

“Shh, it’s alright. I gotcha,” he mutters into your hair, though he sure as hell doesn’t know how to handle your tears, but he’s trying. “Whoever made you feel like this? I’ll knock ‘em into next Tuesday, swear to god.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-sob at that, and he pulls back just enough to glance down at you, raising an eyebrow like he’s confused by the sound. “What? You think I’m joking? I’ll even wear brass knuckles for the occasion.” his thumb brushes away a stray tear. He frowns, like maybe he’s mad at himself for not fixing it faster, for not knowing what to say to make it all go away. “C’mon, sweetie,” now his voice a little softer, “You’re tougher than this. You’ve got me. Ain’t nobody messes with you when I’m around, okay?”

“It’s. . . It’s so stupid, Stan, i don’t even know-“ you try to explain, sobbing and bursting into tears.

“Tell me, who do I gotta rough up for this? ’Cause I can call in some favors. I know a guy who knows a guy.”

You sniffle, laugh breaking through and he grins at that, just a little. He hates seeing you cry, but getting you to smile, even if it’s weak, that’s the goal.

“There we go,” he says, all smug and proud. “See? That’s better. You keep cryin’ like that and I’m gonna have to start cryin’, and trust me, you don’t wanna see that. I’m an ugly crier.”

Stan stares at you a bit longer than usual before continuing. “You know, tears aren’t your best look,” he says after a moment, his thumb brushes your cheek, wiping your tears in a way that’s more careful, gentle, than you’d expect. “You’ve got a real pretty face, baby, but it’s kinda hard to see it through all this mess.”

You laugh, even if just a little, because that’s. . . That’s just Stan. He’ll drag you out of your darkest moments, even if he has to fight the whole damn world to do it.

Ford

Ford is a man of deep thought, logic and intellect. But when he sees you break down in front of him, crying softly, trembling and sobbing, it shakes something in him that’s far beyond logic. His heart stumbles. The man who’s faced interdimensional monsters, who’s braved the edges of space and time, suddenly feels lost when he sees you like this.

At first, he doesn’t move. He’s watching you, brow furrowed, processing. Ford wants to understand, to fix, but emotions aren’t equations and you are something far more complex than anything described in his journals.

“Hey. . . hey,” he whispers, finally reaching out, his voice soft, calm, quiet. He’s cautious, careful, like he’s afraid of overwhelming you. His hand hovers for a moment before settling lightly on your arm. “What’s wrong? what happened?” Ford asks because he needs to know. He needs to dissect the situation, to piece together what’s hurting you so he can find a solution. But there’s more to it than just answers for him.

When you can’t quite form words, when your tears keep spilling, he gently pulls you closer, his hand resting on your back as he guides you to sit with him. His touch is gentle as he slowly, soothingly runs his thumb over your shoulder.

“You don’t have to talk yet,” he speaks, his breath brushing against your temple. “I’m here.” and those words, so simple, carry so much weight coming from him. Because Ford isn’t a man who offers empty promises. If he says he’s here, he means it in every sense.

And then, because Ford can’t help the way his mind works, he begins talking in that soothing voice of his. “You know,” he starts in a thoughtful tone. “tears are a natural response to emotional stress. It’s. . . it’s a sign of strength, not weakness. Your body is releasing what it can’t hold anymore.”

Ford is not trying to seem all smart and logical, it’s just how he comforts, by giving you the understanding you deserve, by showing you that it’s okay to feel everything you’re feeling, by explaining you. And when you hear him, his hand moves to gently wipe away your tears with the pad of his thumb, so careful, like he’s touching something sacred.

“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together,” Ford promises you. “You’re not alone in this.” he kisses your forehead, slowly, letting you feel his presence. And when you’re breathing just a little steadier, Ford tilts your chin up, his eyes searching yours, and there’s nothing but warmth in his gaze. “You’re going to be alright.” he says, and somehow, you know he means it.

[annebaby]

SAFE PLACE

hello everyone! i am back :) i have recently fell down the kate martin hole ( if you couldnt tell already) and decided to write. i have been working super hard in clinics and classes since you last heard from me, so i hope this isn't too rusty! love you guys!

warning: fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), making out, nipple play

i think that's it? let me know!

my divider is from here!

as i sat in my car with tears rolling down my face, i didn’t know who to call. the rain was pouring, a perfect parallel to the emotions flowing through my body. my vision blurred and my tears welled just thinking about it.

i had just been on a date. needless to say, it did not go well. i had been continuously let down by every man i deemed well enough for my attention. i guess i was just bad at picking ‘em out. 

it always ended the same way.

“wanna come to my place?”

“dtf?” 

“ohhh cmon. don’t be a prude.”

i couldn’t even gather my thoughts about the night as i scrolled through my contacts list. i was searching for somebody - anybody- that could provide me with any sort of comfort. however, i knew there was only one person who could make me feel better. 

kate martin. 

as much as i hated to say it, the girl had a comforting aura around her. something about her just drew me in every single time. imagine a bee to a flower or a moth to a flame - that was kate and me. 

our past was patchy, the ups and downs of our so-called “friendship” had blurred the lines for boundaries too easily. whether we’d end up making out, staying over, or doing much worse, each time would end with one of us being heartbroken. 

but i didn’t care right now. 

i needed her scent and her eyes. i needed her hands and i needed her mouth. 

i needed kate. 

my fingertips scrolled relentlessly to the bottom of my text messages, finding the abandoned chat from a month or two ago. 

tears splattered on my phone as i pressed the call button and brought it to my ear. 

it rang once. 

it rang twice. 

it rang three times.

“hello?” kate answers. 

“hey. kate im so sorry for calling you but i-,“ i stopped as tears continued to flow down my face. 

“you know my address. just come on over. it’s just me here.”

god kate, i could kiss you. 

“thank you,” i whispered. 

i hung up the phone and placed my forehead on the steering wheel. thoughts of another night with kate kept creeping into my mind. the good ones and the bad ones. 

nonetheless, i put my car and drive and headed her way. 

every time i thought the tears were done, another pool of them welled in my eyes. every time i thought about my past few dates, my heart felt a pang of sadness. 

i tried to push the tears and thoughts away as i reach kate’s apartment door, but my pathetically light knocking reminded me of how sad i really was. 

i stood in front of her door for a few seconds, trying to keep it together until i was in the comfort of her home. 

i heard the lock clicking and the door opened. kate stood there, worry filling her eyes and her face full of pity. 

i looked up at her, letting the tears fall down my cheeks as she pulled me into her apartment and engulfed me in a hug. her arms squeezed around my waist as mine wrapped around the back of her neck. i cried into her, tears staining her iowa t shirt. 

“im so sorry for calling you,” i sobbed, backing out of her embrace. i wiped my eyes with my hands, trying any attempt to get rid of the nonstop tears. 

“i know we said we’d never do this again. i’m so sorry i just didn’t know who else to call-“ i was cut short as kate held my face and gently kissed me. 

i placed my hands on her waist, my body savoring everything about her. the kiss was soft and sweet, full of love. there was no hunger or sinister desire about it - just pure comfort and affection. 

my eyes fluttered open as she moved back, her thumb wiping a falling tear off my cheek. 

she gently smiled and looked at me with her bright blue eyes. 

“you and i both know that we need each other more than we let on,” she said, sighing. 

i leaned into her hand, my heart finally feeling at ease. she stroked my face with her thumb before pulling me into another hug and kissing me lovingly on my head. 

she led me over to her couch with her hand on the small of my back. 

“before i ask you to be my girlfriend, tell me all about the horrible date you went on.”

i paused, stopping in my tracks. kate turned me to face her, her hands moving to my hips. she smiled at me before speaking again. 

“i know things have been rough between us ; on both ends.” 

her hands move to cup my face as she brings me closer. 

“but i cant seem to get you off my mind. ever.”

now, i seemed to notice how good she looked. her hair was down, her eyes wide as she stared into my own. 

i smiled up at her as tears kept falling from my eyes. she leaned in slowly and kissed me. the kiss was sweet. it was filled with love and care and tenderness, everything she felt in her heart. 

all for me. 

i kissed her back slowly, feeling the despair and sadness in my heart melt away. she was so warm, so comforting. her fingers slid into the back of my jean pockets as she breathed in through her nose. 

my hands hesitantly wrapped around her neck, tangling in the roots of her hair. 

then suddenly, she was everywhere. gripping my ass, attacking my mouth with her tongue and pulling my body impossibly closer to her. 

i broke the kiss quickly, looking at her wide-eyed. was this really something that we should be doing? 

i pushed the thought out of my head hurriedly, the impulsiveness of her actions sending heat straight between my legs. then, she leaned down and began to kiss me again. she gently put her hands on my waist and backed me into her room.

she flipped me around and pressed me against the door-shutting it. her hands were traveling everywhere fast. she was on my waist, my breasts, my ass, etc. you name it and she was there. 

i gasped out quietly as she began to leave sloppy kisses on my neck. i leaned my neck back, allowing her more access. she grinned against my skin.

“no man,-” she panted.

“will ever,-” she said, her fingers tugging on the bottom seam of my shirt. she leans in to continue kissing me.

she pulls my shirt off smoothly, her fingers digging into the exposed skin on my waist,

“make you-“ she kisses me again.

“feel like-“

her hands reach around to the clasps of my bra, her mouth moving to my neck. 

she takes my bra off effortlessly, the material falling to her floor along with my shirt.

‘-this.” 

her eyes travel down to my breasts. 

i reach for her shirt seam as well pulling it over her head, i notice her sports bra and her toned abdomen. my fingertips trace up the sides of her body and swear i felt my mouth watering. 

as if something snapped in me, i push kate’s shoulders until her legs hit her bed and she sits down. i crawl on top of her, sitting in her lap. 

“you’re so pretty, kate,” i whisper.

she smiles and brings her hand to the back of my head, pulling my lips to hers. 

i open my mouth invitedly, her tongue slipping in and fighting for dominance with my own. the fight for control caused kate to moan in my mouth. her hips buck up against mine, the friction causing me to tug on her hair.

“you like that?” she whispers against my lips. our noses touch and i open my eyes, looking straight at her. i nod my head frantically, encouraging her to keep going. her hands grip my hips, holding me down against her thigh. she starts to move my body back and forth, grinding my body against her thigh.

the friction is enough to make me throw my head back, and i feel her grip me tighter. 

“god you’re so perfect,” she whispers. then, she stands up and switches us so she’s on top of me. 

she’s quickly unbuttoning my jeans, wasting no time on teasing. 

“damn, kate. are you excited or what?” i ask, laughing. 

she looks up at me, staring me in my eyes. 

“i haven’t tasted you in months.”

i don’t respond, instead i lift my hips up so she can pull down my jeans and underwear. im completely naked under her, something she’s admitted she likes before.

she crawls up my body, my legs parting and wrapping around her as she leans down to kiss my breasts. she kitten licks one of my nipples, her other hand harshly groping the other breast. my back arches due to the pleasure, a pornographic moan escaping my lips. 

i feel her teeth slightly graze my nipple again before she switches sides. i can practically feel myself pooling between my legs. 

she slowly licks down my torso, stopping to give me kisses on my inner thighs. i can tell she’s leaving hickeys, another thing she likes to do. 

“kate stop it,” i plead. i needed her now. 

my hips bucked upwards, her hands aggressively holding me down as she placed a singular kiss on my pubic bone, then another on the spot where i needed her most. 

i look down at her, her blue eyes already staring into mine. her tongue darted out, hardly grazing me.

i snap my head back, my thighs subconsciously trapping her head. 

then, she moves one of her hands from around my thighs, and she slips a finger into me. 

before i can even make a sound, she begins to eat me out and fuck me with her finger at the same time, adding a second. 

i moaned her name, my face scrunching up with pleasure. 

“kate ohmygod,” i breathed.

she moved her head from side to side, my pleasure increasing tenfold - if that was even possible. 

she took my ankles and set them both on her shoulders, pulling me closer against her in the process. i knew she could tell i was close. she started moving faster and curling her fingers inside of me.

“kate please,” i begged. i didn’t even know what i was asking for. she felt so good. 

i felt her hum against me, completely sending me over the edge. pleasure ripped through me as my stomach twitched as i came down from my high. her hands moved to my hips again, holding me down as she cleaned me up with her mouth. 

i stayed laying flat on her bed as she crawled on top of me. she took her fingers and placed them in my mouth. i sucked on them, tasting myself. 

she smiled wide and licked the mess off her lips.

“you wanna be my girlfriend?"