#and destroyed. right in front of my eyes.

[slutoru1207]

Home Among the Stars 

A/N: I felt like writing something cute. Also, im currently fixing everything on my tumblr sooo sorry it's taking some time. OMG i need people to inbox me so can make more invincible x reader or any characters!!!

Mark had noticed it before you ever said a word.

The way your fingers traced over old photos from Earth. The way your gaze lingered on the horizon, looking for something that wasn’t there. The little sighs you let out when you thought he wasn’t listening.

You never complained. Never said you wanted to leave. But Mark knew you—better than anyone. And he could see it.

You missed home.

And that? That was something he could fix.

It took weeks. Months, even.

Mark wasn’t a builder. He could destroy things easily, tear down mountains with his bare hands—but creating? That was new. Still, he was determined.

He studied Earth architecture. Found materials that mimicked wood and stone. He obsessed over the details—down to the soft creak of the porch steps, the way the kitchen felt warm and inviting, the big windows letting in natural light. He even made sure the house had a proper backyard, one big enough for you.

Because this? This wasn’t just a house.

This was your home.

When he took you there, he didn’t say a word.

Just scooped you up in his arms and flew—fast enough to make you yelp, slow enough to keep you close. The alien landscape stretched beneath you, endless hills and skies. But then—

You saw it.

Nestled in a quiet valley, a house. But not just any house—your house.

A wraparound porch hugged the front, wooden beams carved with care. The windows reflected the soft light, and a little pathway led to the backyard. It looked so out of place in this world, yet so right.

Your breath caught. “Mark…”

But he was already watching you, waiting—eyes flickering over your face, desperate to see your reaction.

“Do you like it?” he asked, voice softer than usual. Almost hesitant.

You turned to him, heart swelling. “I love it."

If Mark thought you were just going to sit in your perfect little house and do nothing—he was wrong.

Within days, you had a plan.

The backyard? Your domain now.

Mark stood on the porch, arms crossed, watching as you knelt in the dirt—carefully planting rows of vegetables, fruit, and roses.

He had never seen you so focused. There was a smear of soil on your cheek, your hands covered in dirt, but you were glowing.

"This is ridiculous,” he muttered, though he was grinning.

You wiped sweat from your forehead, smirking up at him. “You built me a house. I’m making it a home.”

And he couldn’t argue with that.

Despite not needing to eat as often as humans, Mark still insisted on helping you in the kitchen. You taught him how to knead dough, chop vegetables (without crushing them), and make dishes from scratch.

One night, he surprised you by making dinner on his own.

It was… chaotic. Flour on the counter, ingredients everywhere, but he stood there proudly, holding a plate of slightly misshapen but adorable homemade dumplings.

You tried one. Not bad.

Mark raised a brow. “That good, huh?”

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “It’s perfect.”

One evening, as the sky turned soft shades of orange and pink, Mark called you outside.

You stepped onto the porch—only to see a tiny puppy sitting at his feet.

White fur, light brown spots, floppy ears, and huge soulful eyes. It looked up at you and let out a tiny bark.

Your heart melted.

“Oh my god—” you crouched down instantly, scooping up the little thing. It fit perfectly in your arms, soft and warm. The puppy licked your cheek, tail wagging furiously.

Mark rubbed the back of his neck, looking smug. “I figured you might want some company when I’m out.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. “You got us a dog?”

His arms wrapped around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder as he hummed, “Mmm, yeah. But mostly for you.”

You turned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I love you.”

He grinned. “I know.”

After a long day of planting, cooking, and running around with your new puppy, the two of you sat on the porch.

The sky above was endless, filled with stars brighter than anything on Earth.

You leaned against Mark, wrapped in a soft blanket, a cup of tea in your hands. His arm was slung around you, warm and secure. The puppy curled up at your feet, tiny snores filling the air.

“You happy?” he murmured, voice low and gentle.

You turned, looking at him—the strongest warrior in the universe, the same man who built you a home with his own two hands just to make you smile.

You kissed him softly. “Yeah. I really am.”

And in that moment, with the universe stretching out before you, Mark realized something.

This wasn’t just your home.

It was his, too.

Because wherever you were—that’s where he belonged.

[miss-of-the-sky]

Telemachus x blessed by Hestia reader

Chapter one : a warmth like home

His first memories of her were vague, nothing more than a drop in the ocean of his memory. However, she had found her way into his head and never left. 

Telemachus was only a child when he first saw her, on that dry winter's day. He was still too young to see the true nature of the men who invaded the palace of Ithaca. To see the damage Demeter's grief was causing. Yet the young prince often heard the maids speak of her, in whispers and gossip. "Child of the hearth", "gift of the gods", "guardian of the fire". So many words used to describe a little girl, seeming rather to evoke something divine. 

The courtiers were like a poison that gradually spread to every corner of Ithaca. The children's laughter had fallen silent, replaced by loud mockery. The corridors, once lit by the soft glow of the sun, were now dirty and desolate. Odysseus seemed to have taken the soul of his island with him when he left for Troy. 

Antinous had had far too much to drink tonight, and the encouragement of his companions only made him madder. Telemachus, sitting at his mother's feet, felt his anger increase with every obscenity he shouted. He, a little boy, could respect his mother, the graceful Penelope of Sparta. So why did men claiming to be courting her turn up every night and harass her like this?

The clamor of the men grew louder with each passing second, like the howling of a wolf pack before a hunt. The maids left discreetly, their heads lowered, and Telemachus felt the courage of his young heart flicker like a flame in the wind. Suddenly, a menacing silhouette detached itself from the group of men. The glow of the torches reflected off his dark skin, and his red tunic evoked the blood he so loved to spill in countless fights. He approached Penelope slowly, each step testing her, preparing to seize her. But the Queen remained dignified, silently weaving on, now carrying the King's honor on her shoulders. 

It wasn't the first time Antinous was trying to force her, unfortunately, far from it. 

Antinous stopped in front of Penelope, letting out a mocking laugh before sighing:

"Let's see, Queen of Ithaca. The King's been gone for 5 years already and you're still thinking about him? So let me...... discover what old Odysseus loved so much".

In an impulse of indignation, Telemachus stood up, his little face taut with anger. This man was leading those who were destroying his life, his home, his father's dignity, and he dared to speak of his mother like a common whore?

"Shut up! My mom deserves better than you! "

The words, fiery with passion, had escaped the young prince's mouth before he could think any further. Under normal circumstances, when Antinous was sober, he would have mocked Telemachus' words, would have launched the other courtiers into countless taunts. But alcohol destroyed his thoughts, fueled the fire in his soul. 

Antinous grabbed a handful of Telemachus' hair, his eyes wide and his mouth forming a menacing sneer. Penelope had stopped her work, frozen at the sight of her son being manhandled in this way, the way her child was threatened. She should have intervened, had to intervene, but that would only make the situation more difficult. 

Telemachus let out a small yelp of pain, a veil of tears covering his eyes as he tried to remove Antinous' fingers from his soft black locks. Antinous simply tightened his grip with a sneer and exclaimed:

"My companions! Who thinks the little prince deserves to learn a lesson the hard way? "

But before anyone could reply, a soft voice was heard: 

"Stop right there Antinous....."

Telemachus turned his head with difficulty towards the origin of the sound. And his heart raced when he saw her, with a mixture of fear and curiosity. A child, hidden by a long crimson cloak, was playing with an old stray cat by the fire . The fabric of her cape was covered with flames embroidered in gold thread, and her worn leather sandals had orange straps. But it was when she revealed her face that the Prince's heart stopped. Her eyes were the color of flames, two orbs blending yellow, orange and red in perfect harmony. 

Some courtiers, annoyed by her intervention, moved towards her, joined by Melanthius and Antinous. The two chatted for a brief moment before Melanthius rushed towards the little girl, raising his hand to slap her across the face. 

She didn't seem bothered at all, preferring to clean the ashes that had accumulated on the cat's paws before declaring, "You, who have so abused Xenia, Melanthius, slapping an envoy of the gods will not appease Lord Zeus's resentment towards you." These simple words were enough to unsettle the courtiers, who all calmed down and returned to their usual huddle. Even Antinous returned to his seat, giving him a nasty look as he passed by her.

When night fell and Telemachus was ready to sleep, snuggled against his mother's chest, a question crossed his mind.

In a tiny voice, he whispered, "Mom? Why was Antinous afraid of the girl? And who is she?" A long silence passed before Penelope answered in a weary voice, her fingers tracing the branches of the olive tree that served as her bed.

With a deep sigh, she declared, "It's....a Girl blessed by Hestia Hestia. We found her asleep amidst the ashes, a few days after your father left. She's your age, and honestly, that child is a true angel. Antinous is afraid of her because she plays at scaring him, but what you saw of her isn't her true personality, far from it..."

Telemachus let out a soft sigh of admiration, his sleepy mind wandering into a world of ideas about this girl blessed by Hestia. With a mischievous smile, he looked at his mother and exclaimed, "She must be as strong as Achilles!"

Penelope let out a laugh as he ruffled her hair and replied, "It is true that she possesses more humility and patience than that great warrior..."

This answer satisfying him, Telemachus snuggled up to his mother again, and before closing his eyes, muttered, "Tomorrow, I will go see her to ask her to play... and tell herthat her eyes are beautiful..."

[ilovemorayeels]

Yan!Sukuna Headcanons (^_^)v

a/n: me when the me when the cutie, this was a bit inspired by black forest cookie's backstory

cw : slight gore (eyes), bad family, tell me if I missed anything!

ship: sukuna x offering!gn!reader

yan!sukuna who's tired of the same festival over and over again...yes it brings him gold and fortune that is basically a bribe so that he doesn't destroy this village. Another gold piece he'll never wear and another...

yan!sukuna who's a bit confused by who's kneeling in front of him right now. your parents(?) are raving about how you'll be a perfect spouse—servant—anything, anything he wants. you don't seem all that disturbed, just looking at him with those big eyes...looking at him like he just created the universe.

he accepts the offering- you - mostly because of confusion and curiosity. he doesn't really know what do with you. he sends you to help Uraume with tasks, you make a mean tempura that even he bothers eating. he's never had many companions as a cursed spirit except for uraume, especially a non sorcerer, you claim your parents never taught you how.

yan!sukuna who grows fonder as you spend time with him. when he's destroying another village that doesn't quite please him, he let's you stray to the pretty flowers (not too far though, you're still his). uraume also seems to..tolerate you? you can't tell, they gave you a lot of cooking lessons though!

yan!sukuna who keeps...staying close to you. one of his lower arms is always there, lingering on your hip. the only time it's not is when you could possibly be in danger. he likes how your eyes always look away almost as if it's a sin.

he likes giving you the eyes of the most 'fair' person in the village. they're never as fair. never as beautiful.

"My spirit..do you see how I cannot compare your beauty to anyone else?"

yes this is a wee bit ooc but listen!!!!!!!

[zolass]

Detectives Attraction Ch. 08 Top Male Reader x Male Yandere Harem

It took a while to finally continue writing as my mood literally hit the ground, with all the stress and drama so it took some time to write again and finish the chapter. It's also not long but yeah at least something.

cw: none 1.4k words

The wooden door was pushed open harshly, making it slam against the shelf right beside the entrance, and a man stepped into the dark decorated office space. “So now we’re allowing cops into our clubs? Letting them snoop around?” the man clenched his hands into fists in anger. “What about that pathetic excuse of a commissioner? What was his name– Hayes?” a bitter scoff left the brown haired man, as he let himself fall into the leather chair across the mahogany desk.

Across from the man sat a platinum blonde man– his shoulder length hair neatly styled, while his grey eyes stared at the papers spread across the desk, “We’ll see how far Ana will lead him and– where. It might benefit us, Rhys– so let’s simply wait and see,” the blonde’s voice was deep and smooth while his words were laced with a hint of amusement, instead of anger.

The other man was fuming in anger as he glared at the wall, while his hands were clenched into fists. “Why don’t you go over and share– a quick talk?” 

It wasn't even twenty four hours later as M/n stared at his phone screen with the messenger open. He didn't even have to ask her how she got his number– if Adrian could simply get his address, how hard would it be to get his number– possibly not that difficult. 

On the screen were the details for the meeting listed, first M/n simply thought about just not going– how desperate does he have to be to simply meet up with a criminal to get information? 

Yet as the time from the meet up edged closer, M/n couldn’t help but still be conflicted, was it really the best decision he could make? Well he’ll simply find out the hard way– if every lead he has was destroyed up until now? What else could he do until another case which might not even bring any new or old leads?

M/n simply had to see if this woman had anything useful for him.

The sun was already setting as the detective got into his car, started the engine and drove off towards the spot where he would meet the red haired woman. The window was down, letting the cool air blow into the car and through his hair while his e/c eyes were focused on the road.

M/N’s finger tapped the steering wheel in the rhythm of the music coming from the radio, while he jotted down in his mind all the possibilities on how this could turn out. Most of them were bad– as he couldn’t really see a possibility of not getting stabbed in the back, especially by a criminal, who seemed to know how she had to play her cards to land in her favor— and her favor only.

Trust is something that’s either strong or a mere fragile thing that’s only a one way street. And M/n was someone who hardly puts his trust on another person that easily, it was a harsh environment where you can’t put your trust on just anyone– might be a reason why the detective was rather working by himself than with someone else hanging by his side. 

So when he slowly hit the brakes and came to a stop in front of a simple apartment complex– he was surprised to say the least. M/n couldn’t lie and would've expected more of a cliche in the sense of a warehouse. 

When he stepped out of the car, the door to the apartment complex opened and out came not only the red haired woman but a blonde woman was close behind. “Knew you would show up,” the red head leaned against the frame of the door, while the blonde leaned lazily against her side, as if she wanted to melt into the other. M/n only shrugged as he slowly stepped closer, “Might as well risk it,” was the only verbal response he gave, as he stopped at the steps leading up towards the door. 

“I’m Ana, I forgot to mention that yesterday,” the woman noted, before she gestured with her hand towards the blonde, “My girlfriend, Fiona. She’ll be there too,” Ana informed M/n before the couple walked in– followed by the detective who had put some distance between them, while being close enough to keep them in his view. 

Reaching the second floor, M/n saw the couple stop in front of a door– while Ana simply unlocked the door and walked in, the blonde woman Fiona simply threw him an all-over glance before she rolled her eyes and  simply walked in behind her partner. The detective was the last one to enter– ignoring the nasty glare he got from the woman. He was already expecting with maybe a gun pointed in his face, but instead he was met with an open living space. 

The space was decorated in a mix of dark and light colors– like cream, beige and a darker gray. The typical he would say, but there were a lot of green and red decorations which added a pop of color. On a dark grey couch was Ana seated, while the blonde woman was sitting on her lap, not sparing another glance at the man while she seemed more interested in her nails. 

Ana simply gestured towards the plush armchair, in which M/n sat down while keeping his eyes and mind focused, “What do you have for me– which would make this meeting worth its while?” he simply asked, making the woman across from him raise her eyebrows in surprise, “Jumping straight to the point, interesting,” the red haired woman grinned, while a small scoff left the other female, which M/n simply ignored.

“Yes, so what do you have for me?” he leaned back in the armchair, “You’re looking for the ones that are responsible for your murder cases right?” a short nod from the detective, “Well I do have some informations that could be useful for you– but what’s there for me to gain?” Now it was time for Ana to lean back, her eyes focused on M/n while her hands were focused on Fiona. 

M/n couldn’t help but chuckle, “We both know all I can do is not going after anything that might have to do with you–” he let his pointer finger circled near his head, “After all you’re living in the undercity and yet you’re able to afford a rather nice interior and far more security than others in this part of Noxhaven. You have money and it didn’t just drop from the sky into your lap, you’re a criminal after all so you probably have your little ways of living comfortably,” M/n pointed out. 

Ana only shrugged, “Is that really everything? If so– I might keep that request open to anything I might need your help with in the future,” the red head mused, before she let out a sigh and then a smile formed on her lips, “Do we have a deal? You owe me a favor in the future– whenever I see fit, and I give you a little help which might give you a lead on your cases again.”

Yeah, he was indeed desperate to get information.

Sitting in his car, in front of a – new to him – building, M/n had to think if it really was such a good idea after all. A sign hung at the front ‘Fight Club’ were the bold letters making M/n only raise an eyebrow as he was told the fighting clubs for the undercity were in tight wraps – didn’t look like it. M/n stepped out of his car, his hand moved to his pocket that held his cigarettes, contemplating if he should have a small smoke break before stepping foot into the building.

But he decided against it, wandering through the doors into the rather silent warehouse. It was a large open space with a fighting ring in the middle, the stands were empty but the lights were on and shining brightly down onto the middle. E/c eyes took in the new environment, a slight unsettling feeling formed in his gut – he was definitely not alone. Which proved to be right, as a deep voice reverberated in the large open space, “Well, well, well– seems like one club wasn’t enough for you to snoop around, detective.” 

A man with short dark brown hair slowly stepped closer to the light, from the far left corner. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt that framed his muscular body, dark pants and shoes, while a silver necklace and earrings glinted in the low light, giving the clothes a small additional touch. When the man halted in front of the ring, all M/n could see was the smirk that slowly formed on the others lips.

“Looks like it's finally time to put an end to this.”

[call-me-mother-darling]

Honey Never Spoils

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Authors note: Hey chicas, I tried my best with this. As fucked up as it sounds I'm not used to writing cute fics so hopefully this is up to your standards. Just as a warning this isn’t like a super fluffy fic. To make the fluff more impactful there will be action and fighting before it. I tried to make the fighting as short as possible without leaving out info.

Feedback is always encouraged!!

Plot: Natasha asks you for a huge favor

Warnings: men... men having the intention of treating a women like an opject, shooting, punching, violence, Red Room (if you watched the movie you understand), death, fake flirting, drinking, being drunk (let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 2445

I am currently at a bar getting trampled by what seemed like actual children. They must’ve gotten kicked out of the bar close to campus so this was their next best shot. The place was grubby and smells of body odor and bad decisions. What in my right mind am I doing here? I had just finished a mission so I came to Budapest to lie low and enjoy the architecture. Plus the safe house is here. 

Just when I thought my night wasn’t going to get any worse my body is being forced to the side. I can’t help but glare at the bitch that pushed me. I’m met with beautiful green eyes.

“Hello?!” I yell over the blaring music but she is just staring into my soul.

“What the fuck did you push me for?” I yell again waving my hand in front of her face. Just trying to get any reaction from her.

“You speak english?” She questions.

I look at her with an annoyed look. That's all she has to say after she slammed into me. 

“Yes of course I do. Do I look fucking hungarian to you?” I question rolling my eyes.

I begin to walk away when a hand covers my mouth and I'm being dragged away.

“Shh be quiet pretty girl” A sweet russian accent plays in my ear.

Out of my own shock I freeze. 

I do not have time for this.

Realization quickly washes over my body. I think quickly of all possible scenarios. She could be planning on killing me, maybe I owe her boss money? If it’s the boss I’m thinking of, he definitely knows what kind of girls to send my way. I struggle against her grip before I throw my head back and force my elbow into her side. Her grip loosens slightly but she insists on digging her nails into my skin. If she draws blood I'm gonna kill her. Fighting against her nails I twist toward her. It wasn’t by much but it was enough to grab her jacket and slam her into a wall. By the look in her eyes she was shocked but a small smirk played on her lips as soon as I noticed the red hourglass tattoo on her collarbone.

Shit

“What do you want from me?” I growl at her.

“Your love.” She confesses. 

“Are you insane?” I glance at the tattoo, instantly regretting my words.

“Don’t answer that” I say slowly, stepping away from her.

I watch her every move. She's trained to move like a cat, quiet and deadly. If she were to move I wouldn’t notice until it was too late.

 A smirk slowly pulls at her lips. “Who are you?" 

“Given your smirk you already know who I am Natasha.” I have known Natasha since she blew up the Red Room. I was one of the widows that was saved. I couldn’t be more thankful but why did she feel the need to attack to get my attention.

“It is good to see you too, Widow.” She pushes herself off the wall and circles around me. Like a panther hunting her prey.

“Don’t call me that! What do you want?” I question.

“I need your help finding this man. He is part of the few that got away before the Red Room got destroyed. Given you’ve been lying low for over a year now I think it’s time you get back in the action.” She nudges my arm. 

“What do you say, honey bun?” I roll my eyes at that.

“Okay fine, what do you need me to do?” I ask.

“You see that man at the bar with the gray hat? That's him. I need you to flirt with him and get in his head. Bring him to this address.” She hands me a small slip of paper with an address written in red ink. Classic.

In the Red Room we would color code our writing blue means easy target, red means dangerous to widows, green means dangerous to all, black means orders came from Dreykov directly.

“I will be waiting in the bedroom. Get him drunk, knock him out, do whatever you need to do to get him to this address.” I nod in understanding.

“Got it.” I confirm, eyeing this man. He’s huge. Around six foot five and at least three hundred pounds. I take a deep breath stepping in his direction. A strong hand grips my arm. I look back at Natasha staring at me. Her eyes scanning my face like this is the last time she’ll see me. 

“Please pretend like you’re gonna see me Natalia. I got this. You know I've handled worse” I put my hand over hers, running my thumb over her knuckles. You can see her face soften when I say her real name. 

“I know, любовь. I just worry. But go get him. I will be waiting for you.” Natasha says her accent is thick. Her accent always gets worse when she’s scared. 

I nod and sway towards him. I have to make it seem like it’s his idea. Taking a drunk girl home and taking advantage is his specialty. I pretend to drunkenly fall into the seat next to him. Asking the bartender for a strong drink purposefully slurring my words. 

“Hey sweetie” A masculine voice whispers in my ear and I fight the urge to lean away from him. His breath smells of whiskey. His hand cements itself to my hip in almost a bruising restraint. 

I giggle and lean against him. “What are you doing?” I eye his arms pretending to be impressed by the muscle showing through his shirt.

“You're so strong!” I grip his bicep, puffing out my chest. His eyes practically burn holes into my breasts. 

“I’ll show you how strong I am, sweetie. Let's get you home.” He says paying his tab and apologizing to the bartender. “Sorry bro my wife doesn’t know her limits sometimes.” The bartender chuckles.

“No problem man, mine is the same way.” God they talk like they own the women in their lives. Like we are objects. Disgusting. 

He leads me out of the bar, me stumbling over my own feet. 

“Can we go to my house, it’s thirty five- uhhh wait I don't remember.” He chuckles.

“I wrote it down, hold on.” I pause swaying slightly and I scramble to get the piece of paper out of my pocket and hand it to him. He doesn’t question why I don’t have my own address memorized as he takes the paper from my hand.

“Ah yes, I know where this is. Don’t worry sweetie we can go to your house.” he says, leading me in the direction of the house. The cold breeze leaves goose bumps along my skin. It has to be at least one in the morning.

The front of the house is one of an old vintage home. It is absolutely breathtaking. He stops at the end of the driveway.

“Do you have keys?” He asks and I shake my head in response.

“I’ve always had an open door policy.” Given Natalia never gave me a key I can only assume the door is unlocked. My stomach drops as we walk closer to the door. So many what if’s circle my mind. What if Natasha isn’t here? I didn’t see her leave the bar. What if he doesn’t want to go to the bedroom? What if Natasha doesn’t make it to me in time? I haven't done a mission like this in a really long time so my nerves are acting up. I beg them to be calm and keep a level head. 

“Let's have some fun. My room is upstairs.” I giggle, pushing aside my worry. 

He just chuckles at my drunkenness and leads me to the bedroom. When we step into the bedroom he roughly drops me on the bed and goes to lock the door. The door to the connected bathroom opens slowly, a pair of green eyes peeking out. Relief settles over me. He turns back around and eyes Nat. Looking her up and down like she is a piece of meat.

“The more the merrier.” he smirks.

There's no way this bitch just said that.

Anger washes over Natasha's face and she runs at him. Her fist collides with his throat and he is sent back gagging and trying to catch his breath. As he kneels down her knee slams into his nose. A loud crack rings through my ears. She was so quick you could see him struggle to catch up.She pulled her infamous gun from the back of her jeans and shoots him execution style. 

She kicks him over and looks my way. “Are you okay honey bun?” 

“Yes, I'm okay. Everything just happened so fast and honestly I didn't expect him to go down that fast.” She chuckles at me.

“They always second guess a woman's ability to fight. It helps in these situations especially when a man thinks he’s an ‘alpha’.” She rolls her eyes at her own statement and I can’t help but laugh. 

“Come on, let's get you home.” She motions for me to follow her after she kicks the man out of the way.

“I’m gonna pretend you found where I live in a responsible and very legal way.” I say and glance at him on the way out. 

“What will happen to him?” I ask

“A cleaning team will be here in about twenty minutes. Trust me this place will look spotless by the time they are done with it.” I nod trusting her every last word.

We walk outside into the chilly area and make our way to her black nineteen ninety Cadillac. I chuckled at the car and she glanced my way. Giving me a look of questioning.

“Nothing, I would just think you’d have a BMW or some type of fast car.” She almost looks offended at my words.

“First of all I love classics. Second of all get your ass in the car. It's cold out here.” I smile and listen to her command. I hate admitting this but I trust her with my life so I can just shut my brain off.

The drive back to my place was quiet. Her free hand rested on my thigh and my left hand rested on hers rubbing my thumb over her knuckles. Before I knew it she was pulling into my complex. After being in Budapest for so long I requested a bigger apartment. This one comes with bigger parking spaces so when Natasha parks we aren’t fighting to get in and out of the car. After she parked we made our way to the elevator and to my door. As much as this is an old building I find beauty in it. Think of how many people have lived here. How many lives have lived in the same space but experienced it so differently. It’s beautiful to be a part of those many people.

As the door creaks open Natasha holds the door open for me and locks it when both of us are inside. Nastahsa’s gaze falls on the fireplace. More specifically the photos above it. It’s pictures of us and our families when we were younger. Well our assigned families. My favorite picture is of Nat, Yelena, and me. We looked so happy playing with the fireflies. 

“How were you able to keep all of these?” She asked.

“Melina kept them for me. She said that it would help you remember if they ever took your memory.” I say.

You can see the sadness in her eyes. 

“I could never forget you. I spent too much time trying to win you over to forget your beautiful face.” She flashes a smile. 

“You were always such a flirt.” I chuckle.

I grab her hand and lead her to the kitchen. Maybe some tea will help.

“Do you still like peppermint?” I ask pulling the box out of the cabinet.

“You already know the answer to that.” She sasses, blowing me a kiss.

I smile and grab the kettle, filling it with water. I put it on the stove and make my way to the bathroom. Before she even gets the chance to get up I say.

“Stay there, I'm getting a bandage for your hand.” I can hear her huff at that. I can’t help but giggle. I came back with the wrap and a damp washcloth. I lift her up and sit her on one of the kitchen stools, a small gasp coming from her.

“Let me see your hand.” I say and she hesitantly gives me her left hand. It doesn’t look as bad as some of her injuries in the past but it still looks painful. I run the cool wash cloth over her knuckles, a small hiss escapes her mouth. 

“I know my love, I'm almost done.” I say wrapping the bandage over her knuckles and around her hand securing it at the wrist. 

“There we go all done. See not too bad.” I smile looking up at her. Her eyes hold so much love and adoration. I can’t help but blush lightly at the sudden attention. Her eyes search my face, like she is looking for a clue. My eyes glance down to her lips. We both start leaning in. The tension getting thicker.

The tea kettle goes off and I step away, coming back to reality. 

“I’ll get that.” I say shakily. I make my way to the stove turning the burner off. I grab two cups and two bags of tea. I put the bags in the cup and pour the boiling water into each cup.

“Would you like some honey, honey?” She asks, standing beside me with the jar of honey. I giggle and nod. I watch her pour the exact amount I like into mine and a little bit into hers.

“How do you know how much honey I like?” I question furrowing my eyebrows.

“You liked it like this when we were younger.” She answers with a wide smile.

I can’t help but hug her. I can hear the honey fall to the counter and her arms wrap around me tightly. My eyes well up with tears and I hold her as tightly as possible only to loosen it to put our foreheads together.

“I have always loved you.” I confess.

“I love you more.” She says and a wide grin appears on my face.

I lean in and connect our lips. The teas long forgotten

Yes, this is right. Is all I can think to myself

[lav-is-writing]

Bloodlust Chapter 4

summary: where utahime beats the shit out of gojo and you enjoy it. also, old people are stupid and you called a cult leader a pedophile

bloodlust masterlist

“YOU ABSOLUTE IMBECILE-”

“I can explain-”

SLAP

“WHAT POOR WOMAN DID YOU GET PREGNANT THIS TIME?!”

“I’ve never-”

SLAP

“SHUT IT, YOU-”

Amused, you watched the two adults wrestle each other on the ground. Utahime, slapping Gojo repeatedly as she yelled questions for him to answer. Yet, he couldn’t, as she was currently attacking him. He must’ve turned it off for shits and giggles, and you’d be surprised if he didn’t regret it.

“HUSH MONEY? HMM? HOW OLD WAS SHE, YOU BRAT-”

The banter was growing old quickly, leaving you bored of watching Gojo abuse. It was live entertainment, and you loved him and all, but you agreed that he needed to be reminded that he too was human, and therefore able to get his ass beat when it was needed. Seeing him try to scramble away nearly made you want to help, but alas, the woman would destroy you as well.

Seeing a nearby bench, you plopped yourself down on it to watch the drama. You winced as the woman kicked him right in the stomach over and over again, leaving Gojo fumbling to activate his little force field. 

Gojo. Right.

You need to tell him about your new friend. And . . . . uh . . . what you called him.

---

“C'mon, you can trust me.” Geto rubbed his forehead, letting out a heavy sigh that only you could cause. “Just take my number at the very least, alri-?”

“PEDOPHILE-”

“WAIT, NO-”

---

Geto had stopped talking to you after a passerby started to look concerned, but not without giving you a crumpled piece of paper with a name and a number. He had the nerve to be secretive about it, further making the person staring at you both mildly worried for your safety as Geto walked away quickly, pulling his hood over his head so that they couldn’t see him.

The woman had come up to you after, crouching beside you. Earlier she had an angry expression, but now it was softening as she made sure you were alright. “Hey, you know that man?” 

You had to admit, the lady was gorgeous. Blackish-purple hair fell in front of her face, concerned brown eyes meeting your own. A scar ran from the right side of her face to the bridge of her nose, a baseball hat present and covering some of her features. A black long-sleeved shirt was loose on her body, covered by white overalls that you slightly were jealous of. Her brows furrowed in worry as she waited for your answer. 

“Uh . . . . yes?” You replied, hesitant whether to say that you knew him or not. The two of you did do some slight bonding over your maybe-gay father figure, so that could count? You pushed the question back, planning to ponder it later alongside the problem of wondering if the gay would spread to you.

She huffed. “Yes or no, kid?’ 

“ . . . no.”

“Hm,” The woman stood. “Your parents around?”

“Yeah, my dad’s shopping right now-”

“Without his kid? Sounds like an idiot.” She scoffed while she grabbed your hand, standing to her full height. “Could you point me to where he went?”

Nodding, you pointed to the general direction of where Gojo had gone. The woman was quick to begin walking, tugging you along with a surprising amount of strength. Looking further into it, you found the Cursed Energy that lay inside her, running through her veins. She was a sorcerer, just like Gojo. Bad intentions weren’t present at all, and it seemed as if she did want to help you. 

The two of you walked to the store, arriving just in time to see Gojo exiting, his typical grin present as he saw the two of you approach him. “Hey, you two!” He stared at the stranger holding your hand, a flicker of unease flashing across his expression. “Who’s your little friend, |Y.n|?” 

The woman froze. She stared at him, then back at you, repeating this until she kept her gaze set on Gojo. Raising his hand, he gave her a small wave.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Utahime!” 

---

‘Huh, almost didn’t recognize you with that ugly-ass outfit you got there.”

“WHY YOU-”

And that’s how you got to the point of watching two adults wrestle on the ground, one laughing like a maniac while the other smacked them repeatedly. 

You sighed. Adults acted like kids were the crazy ones, yet they acted like this . . . Denial was a river in Egypt. A vibration came from your pocket, most likely your phone receiving a notification from your newfound friend. Pulling it out, you clicked on it.

(Maybe gay for dad): |Y.n|?

(BloodBaby :3): yup!! It’s meeeee :33 

(Maybe gay for dad): good to hear it. I suppose you’re with Satoru right now?

A smile spread across your face. Maybe you could have a little bit of fun with him before you had to go home. Besides, it would be another hour or so before Gojo managed to get the rabid woman off of him, and another half-hour for him to explain that you weren’t actually his child. And that’s hoping that Utahime didn’t ask for the papers. 

(BloodBaby :3): yup :D he’s getting beaten up right now

[(Maybe gay for dad) is calling . . . ]

You jumped at the notification, frantically trying to swipe it away before anyone could see it. The possibility of Gojo hearing was too high, and you really didn't feel like explaining how you knew his ex. As your father figure, he would probably be concerned.

If Gojo was your father figure . . .

Did that make Geto . . .

Mother acquired!

---

“Just call me if you need anything, okay? Or if that blindfolded bastard acts up, I promise I’ll come as soon as I can!” You nodded along to Utahime’s words, trying not to roll your eyes at the woman’s concern. She held your hands in her own, occasionally shooting a dirty look at Gojo, who was perched behind you.

“You act like I’m some sort of weirdo!” Gojo pouted. “She’s been perfectly fine for the last few years under my care.”

Utahime turned, expression aghast. “You’ve survived with him . . . for years. . . . ?”

A look of disbelief and pity came onto her face as you shrugged. Her reaction caught you off guard. What was so bad about it? Sure, Gojo acted like a child and barely did anything around the house, but at least he-

What did he even do?

Before you could speak up and protest about the unfair amount of work you were doing, Gojo cut in. “Ooooo-kay! Let’s go!” He linked his arm through yours, skipping away from Utahime with you in tow. 

“I didn’t even get her number-”

“Too bad~”

“. . . . what are the others even doing?”

“ . . . . I may or may not have forgotten about them.”

. . . .

“They said Maki and the kids will be fine.”

“Good.” Yuta’s eyes remained stuck on the floor, deep in thought. You sat beside him, swinging your legs back and forth as you listened to the two talk.

Gojo stood next to Yuta while leaning on the wall. “You don’t look too relieved.” His hands remained behind his back, eyes occasionally darting from you to the room where Maki was being examined. 

“For the first time,” Yuta started. “I summoned Rika.” He lifted his hand to his face, examining the ring on his finger. 

Gojo smiled. “I see. That’s a step forward then.”

“Gojo-sensei . . . I remembered something.”

A memory of the past doused in innocence and nostalgia. A promise made by two children who don’t know of the fates that await them. Sunbeams mixed with the relief of the rain, holding hands as they promised to forever remain by the other’s side.

“It’s a promise.” One grinned. The little girl, with a bright smile and mischievous eyes. “When you and I grow up, we’ll get married.”

“Sure.” The girl’s eyes widened as the second one spoke. “That means we’ll be together forever and ever.”

The naive little boy, with trusting eyes and a kind smile, made a promise that ruined everything. 

“Maybe Rika’s not cursing me . . . Maybe I’m the one cursing Rika instead.”

Yuta’s words made some sense to you. If he said “We’ll be together forever and ever”, it was unlikely that Rika was the one who initiated the bond between the two. He looked guilty as he stared at the wall, causing you to pat his shoulder to provide some comfort. 

“I’ve always believed.” Gojo looked down, his voice quieting in the shared moment. 

“That love is the most twisted curse of all.” 

. . . .

“Special-grade vengeful cursed spirit Rika Orimoto. Complete manifestation in 422 seconds.”

Gojo stood in the middle of the room, looking rather bored as he listened to the higher-ups speak about the incident. This whole thing was a waste of his time. He could’ve been out training his students, but no, these old bastards had to call him in to lecture him. 

“We left Okkotsu with you precisely to prevent this type of situation. No excuses, Satoru Gojo.”

Scratching the back of his head, Gojo responded. “Well, to be honest, I wasn’t planning on making any.”

Gone was any trace of his usual shit-eating grin, now a more stoic and guarded expression as he looked around the room.

“Stop your nonsense! Had Rika Orimoto’s rampage continued, an entire town could’ve been destroyed!” 

“I would’ve risked my life to stop that.” He stuck his hands into his pockets. “But there’s one thing I can say for sure.”

“We know next to nothing. How did this girl, who has no history of sorcery in her family, become such an immensely strong curse? You can’t control what you don’t understand. What we learn will come from trial and error. Please, let us be for a while.”

“Don’t forget, Yuta Okkotsu’s secret execution has only been postponed.”

“If it comes to that, don’t forget, I’m on Okkotsu’s side.”

“And don’t think that we have forgotten about the Toga girl.”

At the mention of you, Gojo froze on his way to the exit. Your execution was canceled. They couldn’t do anything to hurt you as long as he was around.

….Right?

“What about her?” His voice was stern, expression darkening as he looked over his shoulder. “Her execution was canceled.”

“You know what we need to discuss. She’s a danger to everyone around her.” Another spoke up from the back of the room, his face hidden like all the others. “The second she gains her technique she won't just need blood, she’ll need-”

“More. I’m aware of this.” Gojo directed his gaze to the floor, trying to resist the urge to kill everyone in this room. “I can handle it.”

“Remember, Satoru Gojo. An execution can always be set up if needed.”

And with that, he left.

---

“Those old fools,” Gojo scoffed, removing his sunglasses and replacing them with bandages instead. “Don’t wanna become like them when I’m older.”

Moving along through the campus, he took a look at the many plants that surrounded the training field. From what he heard, a certain someone had been working to make it look much better, and it seemed to be working. Amidst the flora were the higher plants, perfect for someone to

“GOJO!!”

-hide in.

“|Y.n|? Shouldn’t you be with the others?” Gojo stopped walking, placing a hand on his hip as he looked at you. You giggled, running up to him and clinging to his neck.

“Mhm . . . but it got boring watching Maki beat Yuta’s ass every time! So I came to find you!”

Gojo ruffled your hair. “Have you eaten today?”

“Maki’s.”

“Ah, your favorite. Makes sense.”

Without warning, he grabbed you by the waist and placed you on his shoulders. You squealed in delight, laughing as he bolted to the training fields. 

“Trying to take away the best years of your youth like that. There’s no way I’m gonna let them.  The two of you still have so many more memories to make and people to meet. Those old bitches aren’t going to touch a single hair on your head.”

“I promise.”

[sciderman]

well - webtoons is over, gang

[kanene-yaaay]

one day i will sit down and actually write all the mdzs tickle headcanons I have and then it will be all over for you guys (<3)

For the moment tho:

Lan Zhan taking his sweet time to copy all the rules of the Lan sect in Wei Ying's back. Sitting on his legs with a book in one of his hands and the other holding one the softest brushes he has, movements precise and serene as ever as he keeps his strokes the straight as possible with his husband squirming and trashing non stop under him, giggling and snickering all the teases and provocations and begging and promises he can imagine. Lan Zhan huffs in a light kind of exasperation when another character gets crooked and he has to put his book down to take the damp, fluff fabric he brough just for this and srubs the paint before he can continue. Wei Ying's laughter get just a tad more hysterical, quickly descending back into high pitches giggles as Lan Zhan dutifully goes back to his work, lips twitching into a soft kind of smile reserved just for those moments. He dips the brush in the ink and continues, almost hipnotized by the way his lover's laughter and reactions changes with every new character, but he refuses to get distracted.

There is still 2,000 of rules left to copy, after all.

~~

And since we're talking about the Lans and everything. No one can convince me that Lan Xichen is NOT simply the biggest tickle monster that ever existed. I can perfectly picture him walking calmly, kind and calm smile on his face as he follows his next prey, reminding them that it's forbbiden to run in the Cloud Recess when they realize what is about to happen and are caught in between running away anyway - not the smartest choice, he will catch you anyway even before you can blink - or staring him with wide eyes while trying to back away - also not the best choice, he is getting closer and the antecipation is a killer - OR just accept the fact that their fate is going to be a very giggly and tickly one in a few minutes. Full of teases and smiles and kind words and a sweet 'thank you for expanding my collection with all of your lovely reactions'

[pencey]

IM IN TROUBLE MAKING A SCENE A BUZZKILL PARTY KULLJOY FOR COMMANDING A SECURITY GUARD TO UNHAND ME. I WAS WALKING OUT WITH A CUP OF WATER. W A T E R.

UNHAND ME. I COMMAND YOU BY TO POWER OF GOD TO LET ME DRINK W A T E R, YOU USELESS WASTE OF SPACE.

It's water, and I'm evil for commanding you off of me. Unnamed "friend" who brought me over. You're a fucking coward. You don't know sexy if it hit you in te face, you incel UGLY CREEPY LOSER. THIS IS WHY YOUR SINGLE. DEFEND ME OR DIE ALONE, UGLY. HOW DARE YOU LOOK AT ME LIKE YOUR ASHAMED OF ME. FOR BEING POOR? A SMOKER? NOT SEXUALLY ATTRACTED TO YOU? YOU INVITED ME INTO MY HOUSE. I PAY YOU MONEY FOR A BEDROOM. YOU INVITE ME TO HANG WITH YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS.HOW DARE YOU LOOK AT ME LIKE YOUR ASHAMED OF ME. YOU TELL ALL YOUR FRIENDS THAT YOUR MY "SAVIOR" AND YOU ARE "SAVING ME FROM HOMELESS AND YOURE SAVING MY MENTAL HEALTH." IM NOT A DEAD FUCKING DOG YOU RESCUED ON THE ROAD. IM A FUCKING RAPE VICITM. IM A FUCKING WOMEN. IM A FUCKING HUMAN BEING. I HAVE BEEN ON THE RUN FIGHTING FOR A SAFE SPACE SINCE 2021.

Give me fuckin dignity for allowing you to sit in my presence. I'm a very beautiful women (conventionally attractive, just broke up with a meathead firefighter, so I'm mathematically not ugly), you should be fucking GRATEFUL YOU GET TO LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL FACE. I SAY NOTHING BUT KIND WORDS TO YOU. I AM NOTHING BUT A DECENT FRIEND. I NEVER JUDGE YOU. YOU DESERVE TO BE GRACIOUS FOR HAVING THE PLEASURE OF LOOKING AT MY BEAUTY AND GRACE. I AM SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL THAT ITS ILLEGAL TO LOOK AT ME. I WILL LIVE IN THE FUCKING WOODS ETH A BROWN BAG OVER MY HEAD JUST BECAUSE I REFUSE TO GIVE YOU THE PLEASURE OF LOOKING AT ME FOR FREE.

I AM A KIND WOMEN. I AM A PASSIONATE FREEDOM FIGHTER. I AM NOTHING BUT COMPASSIONATE. IM A FUCKING INTELIGENT BITCH. I AM COOL AND SWAG. I AM A CASINO DEALER, AN ASTROPHYSICS MAJOR, AND A COMIC BOOK AUTHOR IN THE MAKING. I SURVIVED SEVERE ABUSE AND SEXUAL TORTURE, AND I STILL SHOW UP TO WORK EVERY DAY WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE. FROM WHAT IVE BEEN THOUGH AND CONSIDERING HOW SUCCESSFUL AND COOL I AM, I STILL MAKE IT A MISSION TO BE GRACIOUS AND KIND. YOU DONT KNOW WHOS CRYING THEMSELVES TO SLEEP EVERYNIGHT. BE FUCKING GRATEFUL FOR WHO YOU ENTERED IN YOUR FUCKING HOUSE. IM GOING TO BE FUCKING FAMOUS ONE DAY WHILE YOUR A SINGLE INCEL WHO GETS TO DIE ALONE BECAUSE YOU CANT APPRICATE A WOMEN WHO KNOWS HOW TO STAND HER GROUND.

[brucespringsteensborntorun]

Please Read

I am speaking on behalf of @eslamfa1, who has her own campaign for her and her family so they may survive under the harsh conditions in Gaza. She is very thankful for all the support she's had, but she needs more help.

She has asked me to host a fundraiser for more of her family, namely for her parents and siblings who desperately need funds for food, water, and medical treatment. They have been displaced multiple times and have only been able to contact Eslam through an unreliable internet connection.

Here is their story as written by her sister, Aya:

"Hello friends, we will tell you our sad story

I am Aya, an outstanding high school student. I was very happy to be on the verge of achieving my dream of finishing my school studies and achieving what I aspired to, which is to become a doctor.

My family of 8 and a beautiful cat named Katie were living a beautiful and peaceful life, each of us striving to achieve our dreams.

We had our beautiful house in Khan Yunis. Recently, we were celebrating my sister Heba’s fourth place in the Gaza Strip in the Arabic language recruitment exam. Our life was like material and emotional perfection. We did not feel deprived or lacking anything.

My sister Lina is a university student. Her dream was to become a psychologist to help mentally ill people in the Strip.

My brother Ahmed was the most beautiful gift from God. He came after 20 years of being deprived of male siblings. After completing his studies, he became a water carrier and took on a great responsibility beyond his capacity.

We also had two little butterflies, the apple of the house, and Jana, the favorites of their teachers and friends at school.

Then the war broke out and everything was turned upside down. We were forced to leave the house after quadcopters surrounded us, tanks surrounded us, and we saw death right in front of our eyes, but we miraculously escaped.

We were displaced several times on foot. Feet, then our end was in a tent that did not protect us from the cold of winter or the heat of summer, and there were poisonous insects and scorpions around us, there was no clean water or healthy food, so my family and I got hepatitis and a lot of intestinal infections.

We were shocked that our house was bombed and destroyed and the features of the house disappeared from the face of the earth, so we felt very sad and despair took over us.

Life here in Gaza is expensive, we cannot buy the minimum necessities of life, imagine that the price of a kilo of tomatoes is $50, and the price of a bag of flour is $200, life here is like a famine! My father is a nervous patient and my mother suffers from chronic pressure and they need continuous treatment and medications. We suffer from bringing water from long distances, and from the high prices of food and cleaning materials and water pollution. What we have suffered most in this war is the loss of members of our family, and this is the hardest thing we have been through. We have lost 20 members of our family. Please help us bear the very high cost of living until we evacuate from Gaza and save our lives. The cost per person is $5,000. Help us, you are the only hope left."

These are some of the photos she's managed to receive of some of her family (Aya, Ahmed, Hala, Jana, and their cat) and of the conditions of the areas they've been displaced from and to:

Note: Due to mentioned lack of internet connection, Eslam has not been able to receive more photos yet. There will be more updates to come when, hopefully, more communications are made.

PLEASE DONATE !!!!! Aya, Lina, Ahmed, Hala, jana, and their parents' well beings are at stake! Starting goal is $10,000

@90-ghost @gaza-evacuation-funds @gazavetters

[not-neverland06]

we're dating? ♡

logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've decided using the same X-men name/powers for the reader in my Logan fics is easier because coming up with superpowers is hard and stupid. They call you flux, like once, it's really just a nickname incoming warning for fluff so bad you'll get a cavity Summary: You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn. (80's timeline in mind, but characters not from the 80’s will be mentioned) Clueless!reader

You’d had an accident, a few weeks ago. Well, accident might be downplaying it too much. You’d destroyed the garden and left a ten-foot crater in the backyard of Charles’ prestigious grounds. In your defense, you had warned them all that it wasn’t a good idea to take your cuffs off. 

The metal bands are entirely necessary to make sure you can’t lose control and wipe out everything around you. Manipulation at an atomic level is beyond fatal. You don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d had the meltdown and the kids were anywhere near you. 

Charles had been able to shut you down, but now he’s keeping you on probation. You’ve been locked up in the mansion, unable to leave until you managed to get your abilities under control. There’s never been a problem with wearing the cuffs before. You don’t understand why he’s so against them now. 

You’re going stir-crazy. There’s only so many times you can pace your room before you start to lose your mind. He’s not even letting you teach classes anymore. You’re stuck training, all day, every day. 

“Focus!” Charles snaps and you resist the urge to turn his bones liquid. Maybe that would get him off your back. 

Instead of killing your friend, you glare at the large tank of water in front of you. You do what you’ve been doing for the past half hour. It fluctuates from liquid to gas to solid, and then liquid again. An endless cycle of repetition that makes you want to melt your brain so you don’t have to do this anymore. 

You drop your hand and huff. “This is pointless, Charles. What’s this even teaching me?”

He crosses his arms, walks over to you, and pointedly glares at the tank in front of you. You roll your eyes and look back at it. “Shit,” you hiss. In your frustration, the glass has cracked and splintered into dust. Water pools around your stool and leaks through the wood of the floor. You flick your wrist, the glass swirling around you before reforming into the tank. The water follows along, droplets lifting from the floor and dropping back into the container. 

“One moment of frustration, of distraction. That’s all it took.” Charles shakes his head and walks back over to his desk. He picks the cuffs up and you slip them silently back onto your wrists. “How can you be trusted to protect your team on the field if you can’t control this? What are you going to do when you’re panicked and fighting for your life?”

Shame bubbles in your gut. It makes you nauseous and forces your eyes to the floor so you don’t have to face him. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently. You glance up at him briefly and he offers a strained smile. 

“This is for your protection, as much as you hate it, Flux. It’s necessary.” You scoff at the use of your X-Men name. Not much of an X-Man if you’re not even on the field anymore. 

“Right,” you mutter. “Thanks for the lesson in incompetency,” you don’t let him respond and slam the door to his office closed behind you. You feel bad the second you get outside and onto the porch. He doesn’t deserve your bitchiness. It’s your own fault you can’t get a handle on this. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing yourself into a rocking chair and running your hands over your face. The once comforting weight of your cuffs is now oppressing. It just feels like a constant reminder of your failure. You should already have a handle on all of this, but you struggle to even manipulate water. 

“Rough day?” You don’t open your eyes as Logan walks by. He takes a seat on the rocking chair beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretches. 

You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at the sunset so you don’t have to face him. You’ve already dealt with enough dejection today. You don’t need to look at him and be reminded that you want him in a way you can never have. 

“Mhm,” you hum, propping your head in your hand as you watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange that seem too hopeful for how you feel right now. 

Logan chuckles, the sound low and gravely. It makes your heart stutter in your chest and you cringe in embarrassment. You know he can hear the way your heart practically beats free of your ribs when you’re around him. You’re sure with that nose of his he can smell some sort of hormonal change in you every time you lay eyes on him. 

You swear you’ve never felt this way about a man before. You haven’t had many boyfriends before, it’s not really common among mutants. Not many people are accepting of you when they know what you are. And some people are too into you. 

But you've had crushes, and none of them have been as bad as this one is. You want to gnaw on him. It sounds fucking insane every time you think about it. But when you train with him and he tears his shirt off, you want to sink your teeth into him and never let go. 

You feel feral around him, a side of you surfacing that you’re not used to. Maybe it’s because of his mutant abilities. They are very animalistic, it’s easy to blame that on how desperately you crave him. 

You hate being around him and despise not being in his presence. It’s conflicting, and more often than not you sound like a bumbling idiot when you speak to him because your brain is going in a million different directions. 

You hear the familiar click of his lighter and then he shifts again. You risk a peek over at him and regret it the second you do. His head is tilted back, eyes closed in relaxation as he stretches across the porch. Smoke leaks out of his lips as he groans in satisfaction. 

You have to pick your jaw up off the floor and make sure there isn’t drool on your chin. This is insane. You’re a grown woman, how does he have this much of an effect on you? He’s not even doing anything! He’s just sitting there and you want to jump his bones. 

You whip your head around, mumbling incoherently to yourself to get it together. Logan peaks an eye open and you miss the mischievous tilt to his lips. “Something wrong?”

I need to have sex with you or I’m going to explode. 

You stutter for a few seconds, getting your mind back together. “Just training with Charles,” you mutter. 

He sits up a little straighter and quirks a brow. When you don’t continue he sighs. “And?” He prods, impatient for your answer. You hope you’re not reading into it, but you think he’s been as disappointed by your absence from the team as you are. He always complains about being partnered up with Scott. You like to think it’s because he misses you. But you’re probably just delusional. 

“And, nothing,” you sigh. Your hands flop against your legs and you glare at the bands on your wrists. “No progress. I still can’t control them without these on, and my abilities are watered down and useless with the cuffs.”

Logan huffs, you’re caught off guard by the sudden warmth on your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening ever so slightly when you see his hand on your leg. It nearly covers the whole thing and when he squeezes your thigh you think you’re going to pass out. 

You’re friendly. But you’ve never been touchy. At least not like this. The placement of his palm is very intimate and you are struggling not to just get on your knees and profess your undying love. You take in a deep breath, looking up at him so you can get your heartbeat under control. 

But looking at him just makes it worse. Because there is so much faith and fondness in his gaze as he looks at you. His lips are tilted up, eyes soft, and you’ve never had someone make you feel so warm and secure from just a look. 

“You aren’t useless,” he tells you. He squeezes your thigh again before he retreats back to his chair. You have to clamp your jaw shut so you don’t beg him to keep touching you and never stop. “You’re just stuck in this house all day. You’ve got nothing to do but sit in your failure.”

You scoff and throw yourself back in your seat. “Don’t remind me. I’ve begged Charles to let me out.” Your gaze drifts to the crater in the backyard. Some of the kids have been working on filling it in, but whatever energy you’d let go of has left a permanent mark. “He refuses to give me permission.”

Logan laughs, the noise teasing and a little mean. Your brows furrow and you glance over at him with a questioning look. He tilts his head in disbelief like you’re an idiot. “Seriously, Flux? Just fuckin’ leave, who gives a shit?”

“Uh,” you think on it for a minute before weakly settling on, “Charles?”

His face falls and you sink lower into your seat. He looks out at the yard, gaze distant. His jaw clenches a few times before he puts the cigar out on the ashtray beside him. He gets to his feet and you think he might just leave. Instead, he turns towards you. 

You’re caught off guard by the little smirk on his face. “Wanna have some fun?”

Only an idiot would say no. 

You grin and place your hand in his, yelping slightly at how easily he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his chest and are hesitant to back away when his hand drifts to rest on your waist. He looks down at you, smiling, he squeezes your waist once before he backs up. 

“Come on, kid.” He tugs you inside the house, leading you downstairs to the garage. You already know what he’s going for before the door is even open. 

“Didn’t Scott tell you to leave his bike alone?” Logan takes a step inside. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, the happiness on his face. You never see him like this around the others. 

You hate thinking like that. Placing too much importance on your relationship with him will only lead to heartbreak down the road. But, you never see him act the way he does with you with anyone else.

“Since when have I ever listened to Cyclops, sweetheart?” 

“Good point,” you mutter, moving to stand next to him. 

He straddles the seat and looks over expectantly at you. “Don’t you need a helmet?”

You shake your head, “Oh, no, it’ll ruin my hair.” You laugh but he gives you a deadpan look. You don’t regenerate the way he does. An accident would be a lot more fatal for you than it would be for him. You huff, “Relax, Lo, I can use my powers.” When he looks like he’s not going to drop it, you let some energy swirl around your fingers. It solidifies the air around your skin, you reach up and flick at his skull hard enough to hear the metal ding. 

He grunts, glaring down at your hand while you grin. “See,” you whisper, sliding onto the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m perfectly safe.” He shakes his head and starts the bike. 

The ride to the arcade is spent in silence. Logan always seems to break every speeding law known to man whenever he takes Scott’s bike out. You’re not sure if he does it to purposefully piss the man off, but it makes you cling to him like a wild animal. You feel like if you hit one speed bump you’re going to go flying. 

By the time he parks your legs feel like jello. He laughs a little at the way your face has blanched. Again, he offers you a hand and holds the door open to lead you inside. You’re trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this whole thing is odd. 

You guys are friends. And you’re friendlier with each other than most of the mutants in the school. But this feels different somehow. For one, Logan kind of despises the arcade. It’s an amalgamation of bad smells and loud noises, and it overwhelms his already sensitive senses. You’ve heard him complain about the smell of body odor and fake cheese enough times when you went on a field trip with the kids. 

Secondly, he’s being more touchy than he normally would. You’re not complaining. You weren’t exactly hugged a lot as a kid, mainly just passed between different mutant fetish clubs. Logan isn’t known for handing hugs out so easily. But right now, he doesn’t seem to be ready to not have at least one hand on you. 

Maybe he’s just cheering you up. You need to stop drifting so far into your mind and just enjoy the night. “Alright, what’s first bub?”

You grin and drag him towards the claw machine. “I’m horrible at these things,” you inform him as you put your quarters in. “But, I hold out hope that one day I’ll be able to actually beat this monster.”

Three failed attempts later, it’s become embarrassingly clear that you will never beat the claw machine. Logan isn’t even trying to hide his amusement as you become increasingly more frustrated. There’s a certain point where this game stops being fun and starts to be an affront to your character. 

Logan peers into the machine and asks, “What are you going for?”

“The pigeon,” you mutter. Your tongue pokes between your lips, and your eyes narrow in concentration. You aim the claw over the pigeon perfectly and slam your hand down on the big red button. 

You’re allowed five seconds of celebration before the damn thing slips out of the claws grasp and tumbles into the pile of stuffies below. “Dammit, Bart,” you let the ridiculous name you’ve come up with for the toy slip.

Logan snorts, leaning against the glass while you jam another quarter in the slot. “Bart?” He teases. 

You shake your head and give him a look out the side of your eye. “What, you think I call myself Flux because I’m good at coming up with names?” You give up after the last failed attempt and turn to face him with a huff. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Tough luck, kid.” He slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards the concession stand. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping lightly at his chest. 

The rest of the night is nice. He doesn’t play much except for the strength-oriented games. And then you kind of just exploit him for more tickets. By the time you get back to the mansion, you’ve forgotten all about why you were upset in the first place. 

Nothing had gone wrong, you didn’t have a total meltdown and wipe out the entire arcade. You don’t know why Charles was so afraid of letting you out. 

Logan walks you back to your room, his hand heavy on your lower back as you head up the stairs. You’re talking endlessly, filling up any gap of silence with rambling you’ve lost track of. You don’t know what it is about him that invites you to yap the way you do, but you’re always embarrassed by it the second he leaves. 

You reach your door and smile up at him. “Thanks, Lo.”

He gives you a soft smile, his eyes wrinkling endearingly at the corners. He reaches up and brushes some hair off your shoulder. There’s a certain shift in his expression that has your breath stopping short. Whatever else you were going to say to him tumbles off into an incomprehensible whisper. 

He leans down and every inappropriate thought you’ve ever had about him suddenly surges to the front of your mind. Your lips part in anticipation, thinking he’s going to kiss you and your fantasies are going to come to life. 

His lips brush against your cheek so gently you almost don’t feel them. “‘Night Flux,” he leans back and your body goes with him. He backs off with a smile, walking down the hall to his own room. You feel dazed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as you fan your cheeks and try to come to terms with what just happened.

He didn’t kiss you, but you oddly aren’t disappointed. You go to bed that night with a lovesick grin on your face. Well, you would have. Were it not for the annoyingly British voice ringing out in your head, “Training’s at four tomorrow morning. Consider it your punishment for sneaking out.”

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. Stupid fucking telepaths. 

You thought the arcade was a one-off moment. But Logan keeps sneaking you out of the mansion. Charles hasn’t officially lifted the house arrest, but he’s given up trying to keep you inside. Besides, you’ve essentially got a chaperone since Logan is always with you. 

You make lunch for the two of you and he’ll take you out to the woods for a picnic. Or you’ll go to the movies together. Sometimes you don’t even do anything, just linger around each other. You enjoy the company, and you love having these quiet moments together with no one else around. 

Your favorite part of all of this has to be the way he’s started touching you. He’s always got a hand on your leg or back. And if he can’t do that, then you’re tucked into his side. It’s feeding into a starved part of you that you’ve left neglected for far too long. 

It’s only been about two weeks of these fun little adventures and odd behavior. You’re dreading the moment they’ll stop. You’re not sure when Logan’s going to deem you properly cheered up, but you’re hoping it’s not anytime soon. 

There have been a few more moments where you think your friendship might turn into something more, and every time you’ve been interrupted. You’re actually starting to feel a little edged. You’ve been considering just grabbing him and planting one on him. But every time you think about it you get sick to your stomach. 

You don’t want to make a move on him and end up getting rejected. You know he’s just being a good friend and taking care of you so you don’t end up spiraling too far in your head. It’s happened before, when you’ve been struggling with your abilities. He’s just keeping you from shutting down again and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you’re hopelessly in love. 

When you walk out of your room this morning you’re immediately smacked in the face. “What the fuck, guys?” You yell at the two kids running past your room. Not the best language for someone who's supposed to be a role model. You can’t be bothered though, not when they’re running around throwing pink rolls of streamer at your face. 

“Sorry!” Mary calls over her shoulder, laughing as she pins a heart up onto the wall. You’re sure Charles won’t appreciate the hole in his old ass mahogany wood. It’s only as you watch her run down the stairs that you register just what is going on. 

There is pink and red everywhere. It looks like Dollar Store Cupid has thrown up all over the mansion. You’ve been so caught up in your attraction to Logan that, ironically, you’ve forgotten what month it was. 

You grumble bitterly to yourself as you trudge down the stairs. Another Valentine’s Day alone and single. How lovely. You spot two kids giggling to themselves by the banister, they lean in like they’re going to kiss and you gag. “Hey!” You snap, and they jump apart, eyes wide with fear. “Quit it, get out of here.” They scramble off and you feel just a little bit vindicated. 

“Not a fan of young love, Flux?”

You groan and roll your eyes, turning around to find a very smug Scott watching you bully teenagers. “Shut it, Summers,” you warn. You point an accusing finger at him and he raises his hands in surrender. Faux innocence played across his insufferable smirk. “When you’re in a committed relationship, you don’t get to judge me.”

His brows turn down in confusion, “Wait, but aren’t you and Logan-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a loud crash down the hall. You both turn around just as one of the classroom doors slams open. A bright pink explosion hurtles from the doors and a throng of coughing students follows. 

Jubilee walks out a minute later, a guilty expression on her face. “Sorry, I was just trying to make it more Vanetine-y.” 

You glance over at Scott, grinning widely at him while you pat his shoulder and walk past him, leaving him to clean up the mess. “Enjoy the young love, Summers.”

You actively avoid Logan all day. You’re already facing constant reminders of how lonely you are. You see kids walking around with baskets of bears and chocolates. Or you catch them passing notes in class with scribbled hearts all over the front. 

There’s only so much a girl can take before she loses it. The last thing you need is to be faced with the man you have the worst unrequited crush on in history. But he doesn’t seem to get the hint. He’s everywhere you go, popping up around corners and trying to catch your attention. 

You keep brushing him off and pretending like you have something urgent you’re going to be late for. Eventually, though, he was going to catch up with you. 

It happens in the kitchen. Most of the kids are in their rooms or the library. The noise has died down and you’re alone. You grumble to yourself, ripping down a pink streamer that keeps drifting across the top of your head and pissing you off. You grab a frozen meal from the fridge and are about to microwave it when he speaks. 

“Huh, thought you’d want something a little more romantic than a frozen burrito.” 

You gasp, clutching your chest and whirling around on him while your heart races. “Logan, Jesus, you scared me.” He’s frowning at you, eyes glaring at the frozen package in your hand. “Um,” you toss it back in the freezer but the look on his face isn’t going away. “Yeah, I might just go with cereal instead.”

He looks at you and then glances behind him. You peer around his shoulder but you don’t see anything. Without much warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the stairs. “Logan?” There’s no point in trying to resist him, he could just toss you up the stairs if he wanted to. Still, the silence is kind of creeping you out. 

You call his name a few more times but give up when he makes it clear he’s not going to be answering you anytime. There’s a rotten feeling in your stomach. You have this awful idea like you’re in trouble for something. Like a little girl who's gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar too many times. 

He stops you in front of his door and nods towards it. “You want me to go inside?” He crosses his arms and glares down at you. You huff and mutter, “Jesus, fine.” What the hell is wrong with him?

You grab the doorknob to his room, glaring at him while you do. You throw the door open dramatically, taking a step inside and surveying the area. “Wow,” you suck your teeth and shake your head. “You have not decorated at all.”

“Shut up, smartass,” he mutters in your ear. Chills prick at your skin from his proximity. A shudder goes down your spine as the low tone of his voice reverberates through you. “Look a little harder.”

You roll your eyes but acquiesce. Another run over the room finally shows you what you missed. You gasp and rush towards his bed, “Holy shit, Bart!” He chuckles behind you as you pick the stuffed pigeon up. 

“Went back for him after we left,” Logan tells you. 

You glare at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How many tries did this take you?” He mouths a smug one and you roll your eyes in irritation. You look back down at the pigeon and smile.

He smells like the inside of a claw machine. His head is sewed on crookedly and you’re pretty sure he’s missing an eye. But he’s absolutely perfect to you. You’re about to thank Logan when you spot something metal wrapped around the stuffie’s neck. “What’s this,” you mumble to yourself. 

You slide your fingers under the chain and tug it off Bart’s neck. Logan’s dog tags dangle off your fingers and you stare at him in shock. A sudden cold dread washes over you and you find yourself immobile. “Logan,” you trail off, an unspoken question following his name. 

He smirks, walking towards you and slipping the tags out of your hand. “I wanted you to have this,” he says, his voice low like this moment is too precious to break, “so you know you’re not alone. You’re always so afraid of what’s going to happen if you lose control out in the field. But you forget, you’re not alone. You have me, you’re always going to have me.” He places the tags over your neck, untucking your hair from the chain. 

You don’t even have words for him. It’s such a deeply personal gift. But this also feels incredibly intimate. There’s no possible way for you to reason this away. This isn’t something “just friends” do. 

He seems to prefer your silence, anyway. One of his hands drifts from your neck and cups your jaw. With the utmost tenderness, he lifts your face to his. “Wanted to do this for a while,” he whispers. You almost ask what he’s talking about, but his lips are already covering yours. 

It’s incredibly soft, this kiss, softer than you’re used to. He’s barely putting any pressure on you and it makes you realize that you’re still not moving. You’re just standing there in shock, eyes wide open while the man you’ve wanted since you’ve known him kisses you. 

You drop Bart to the floor and your arms come up to twine around his neck. You finally close your eyes, let your body melt into his knowing he’ll catch you. The second you reciprocate he really kisses you. Neither of you hold back, each of you pouring all the pent-up desire you’ve felt for each other. 

You’ve spent so long dancing around this, around each other. It’s like a missing puzzle piece is returned to you as Logan holds you. You feel full, complete, warmer than you ever have before. 

You part from him - needing air - painfully slow. You don’t want to spend a second away from him now that you have him. You wish you didn’t have to breathe. Wished you could have kept kissing him and never stopped. 

Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss against your forehead like he can read your thoughts. You can feel the dorky smile that’s about to split your cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping it might suppress it, but you know it’s pointless. 

You look up at him with a cheeky twinkle in your eye. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine, Lo?”

He scoffs and pulls away from you slightly. “Do you have to ask your girlfriend to be your Valentine?”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes rapidly. “I- Well- I mean,” you take a full step back from him and shake your head. “What?” You finally settle on. “I mean, I’m not objecting, at all, but what?”

Logan tilts his head, a disbelieving look on his face. “What do you think we’ve been doing the past three weeks?”

You shake your head, stuttering and struggling for an answer. “I don’t know. I thought you were being a good friend!”

He smiles, there’s no irritation on his face at your cluelessness. If anything he seems to be more endeared to you. “You think I take all my friends on romantic picnics in the woods?”

You sigh, letting out a long disappointed breath. You can’t believe you’ve been so blind. When you think about it, his behavior lately makes a lot more sense. You’re not sure how you were able to trick yourself for so long. 

“Well,” you start, walking back towards him as he pulls you into a hug, “certainly not Scott.” He huffs and shakes his head. You give him a sheepish smile, brows knitted together. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”

He just presses another kiss to your temple and shrugs. “It’s alright, sweetheart, you can make it up to me by being my Valentine again next year.”

There’s something unspoken in his voice. A promise that he’s planning to be around for a lot longer than a year. You smile at him, silently promising the same. “Only if you’re mine.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

a/n: i’m gonna gag actually. Made myself cringe there at the end. I want a valentine next year so bad, it’s sad. But what’s the point of a valentine if it’s not going to be Logan?

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[queenpiranhadon]

So, it's basically canon that Pro Heroes come to assist heroes in training at UA, right?

Just imagine the horror the new generation of heroes would face when they realize that their opponent for training that day is none other than the Number Two Pro Hero, Dynamight.

It's a hero team vs villain simulation - a joint practice between both hero course classes - Katsuki basically has free range to destroy the mock city UA had built and the students had to prevent him from doing so, which was really just a waste of money because of the Pro Hero's already destructive tendencies.

He already had to regulate himself for Pro Hero work, so this was really just waving the reg flag in front of the bull.

Needless to say, they all got their asses kicked, all 40 of them. Whether it was due to falling debris or evading explosions, all of them were forced to wave their white flags eventually.

The students weren't so much in shock, they were in awe, of how a Pro Hero could be so powerful and intimidating, and well...badass.

Their main takeaway? Katsuki Bakugou was an impenetrable force to be reckoned with.

Or... at least for a few minutes.

You can imagine the shock on their faces when the grim and serious expression on Dynamight's face melts instantly when he hears a voice speak up behind him.

"Katsuki, if you keep frowning all the time, you're going to get wrinkles."

He turns around, a rare smile stretching across his face as he stares at you, his wife, like you're the only person in the world at that moment, like you're the only one that matters.

"Tch. I don't get wrinkle lines, woman. Yer just seein' things."Despite his slight harsh words, they're softer, somehow, and the happy twinkle in his eyes is unmistakable.

The students gape at each other. The Dynamight, Katsuki Bakugou , in love? The same pro hero that was wreaking havoc and creating carnage in his wake was the same one now staring at his wife with a dopey grin and peppering kisses across your face.

"Katsuki!" You whine, but it looses its credibility as you start to laugh at his antics. "What's gotten into you, huh?" you ask, a little softer, so that only he could hear.

He looks at you, a soft look in his eyes as he kisses you gently and lovingly pulling away to admire your pretty face.

"M'just feeling sentimental I guess... We were probably their age when we started dating huh?" He says, referring to the students.

You snort, recalling the time when Katsuki first asked you out. "Aww...is my baby feeling sentimental? You were a dork back then."

Katsuki looks offended and his grumbles, nipping your jawline in annoyance."Oi. I was not a dork back then. If anything, Izuku was the dork."

You smile teasingly, kissing his nose, effectively shutting your explosive husband up.

"Is that so? Because I recall you had your All Might posters set up in chronological order of his costume eras."

Katsuki's ears turn red and his large hand wraps around the back of your hand, burying your face in his chest.

"Shaddup woman. Yer the one who fell for this dork in the first place."

You laugh, your voice muffled by his chest, but he can still hear you just fine. Looking up at him you smile.

"You may be a dork, but you're my dork."

The students watch is abosolute shock, mouth gaping open as they wonder how the hell you were able to render Katsuki Bakugou to the sappy man they saw in front of them.

A/N: He's so silly I love him 🥰

[kyeomofhearts]

Bed Wars | J.WW

+ summary: after spending countless hours building a house for your boyfriend... you're suddenly met with his bed placed right next to yours? what the hell man! + pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader + word count: 800~ + content: fluff, established relationship, they're just playing minecraft lol, reader likes to bicker.

[ᝰ.ᐟ] happy valentine's day!!! thought i would post something small to celebrate since i didn't post for last year's valentine's day. also i would like to (unfortunately) thank @cherry-zip for bullying me into posting this on time! hope you enjoy, thanks for reading! <3 (borders made by @enchanthings !)

"C’mon dude,” you groaned, staring at the sight in front of you. “I made you a house for a reason!”

Wonwoo’s response? Moving his bed right next to yours. 

“Well, I want to sleep here,” he stated simply.

You let out an annoyed sigh, arms crossed. “Like, seriously? The colors don’t even match!”

Wonwoo only giggled, enjoying your frustration with him. “What are you talking about? My purple bed goes perfectly with your pink one. Also, what if a creeper spawns in my house—how will you ever hear my cries for help?”

Your eye twitched at his insistence. God, he was so annoying. “Now, why would a creeper spawn in your house?” 

“You never know, I’ve seen it happen before.” 

“Fine. I’ll move out then,” you said, quickly destroying your bed and leaving the house. You weren’t even bothered enough to take anything from your chests.

The two of you continued playing in silence for a few minutes. It’s not like you were actually mad or anything… but it was fun to start a meaningless fight with Wonwoo. 

In the meantime, you explored the surrounding biomes in hopes of finding a suitable place to make a new house. Well, more like a camp. (Your house was way too pretty for you to simply abandon.)

After a few more minutes of silence, Wonwoo began to message you in the game.

[gam3bo1: where are you :(]

[gam3bo1: i miss youuuuu]

[gam3bo1: answer me!]

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, turning to look at you from his monitor, eyes filled with faux innocence.

You scoffed. “Oh, no. Not at all. I just love how you’re completely ignoring the fact that I built a whole house for you, and yet, you insist on staying in my house!”

Wonwoo let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, it's not my fault my house feels so… lonely.” 

You rolled your eyes as he spoke, but he didn’t stop there. Who would’ve known that he was going to be this pouty.

“Look, our babies miss you too.” He waved you down to look over at his screen.

To your disappointment, curiosity got the better of you. “This better be–” Your voice cut off at the sight of your pets. 

All of your in-game pets–the dogs, cats, and even the random parrot you found in a jungle biome a few weeks back–were all sitting obediently inside your home. Wonwoo had conveniently placed them all in front of his bed, having them turned to look at the empty space–where your bed used to be. 

You narrowed your eyes upon realizing the little stunt he was trying to pull on you. “You’re trying to manipulate me into going back home!”

Wonwoo gasped. “I would never do such a thing!”

After a few moments of pure laughter, you finally gave in. You could never stay mad at him for too long. 

“...Fine, I’ll come back.” You huffed out, finally turning back to your monitor and making your way back home.

As you neared your house, something new caught your eye.

Behind your house, was a small, heart-shaped garden. The ground was tiled in a red-and-pink checkered pattern, carefully placed block by block. Peonies and roses filled the garden’s corners, their colors nicely decorating the huge heart in the middle. In front of the heart sat a small seating area just for the two of you.

“Oh.”

“I made it while you were ignoring me,” Wonwoo said, his voice suddenly next to your ear.

Your fingers hovered over your keyboard. It was… annoyingly cute.

You continued to move around, stepping onto the checkered flooring and admiring the little details he had placed all around. It was cute.

“...You built me a garden?” you asked softly.

Wonwoo hummed. “I might have had help from a few tutorials, but yeah. I wanted to make a spot for us.” 

And unsurprisingly, your stomach did an embarrassing flip.

Wonwoo went back over to his desk, quickly moving his player to sit on one of the chairs in the garden. Following him, you sat down in the chair in front of him, and before you could even say anything he beat you to it.

“I just thought our shared house could use a little extra love. You know, since we obviously live together.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as Wonwoo laughed triumphantly beside you. He just had to ruin the moment! 

“Now c’mon, let’s go to bed,” he said as he pressed ‘Save and Exit’. By the time you reached the main menu, Wonwoo was already pulling you away from your desk.

“I’m never building you anything ever again,” you muttered, body betraying you as you leaned into him on your shared bed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “And yet you still let me sleep next to you.” 

You wanted to argue, but sleep was already pulling you away. “Mhm, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

[dreamersparacosm]

jeon jungkook - bad intentions

warnings ; nsfw (18+!!!!!!), unprotected sex

prompt ; in which a TikTok edit sparks a desire to get absolutely destroyed by your boyfriend.

note ; hey… heyyyy *opens door* um idk what this is but I’m back with a new fandom and this random piece of writing. this is my formal request to join the bts fandom pls xoxo i promise im fun and can write hellish smut

It’s cruel that you live with someone as attractive as your boyfriend.

It’s even more evil that the world posts TikTok edits of your boyfriend to seductive songs that make your underwear soak through with arousal.

All that to say, you’re not really making your life any easier by watching every single one that stumbles across your For You Page.

You have been better. It was a slow Sunday: one where your boyfriend sits perched on your shared living room couch, mindlessly playing with his lip ring as he watches some Netflix show. It’s nice having him like this, all for you, in a space you two built for yourselves. But you, you’re in the bedroom, aimlessly scrolling through an app that has taken up more than enough of your time and perfectly curated content about your boyfriend and this silly little band he’s in.

But it’s when, and only when, you stumble across an edit of your boyfriend to a The Weeknd song, that you shoot up in your bed, blink rapidly, inhale a sharp breath. Your heart catches in your throat, does that stupid little flutter thing. And then.. the clench that follows down below. You replay it once, twice… a third time.

Don’t be weird. Do not be thirsty.

But, he is yours. That much, you do know.

You close the app, delete the page off your phone. It’s not like you two have a boring sex life, he takes care of you and you never feel dissatisfied. In fact it’s rather the opposite. This one time being two nights ago when he had your legs up on… never mind. You look at your black phone screen in disgust. Do not be a horny little freak.

Well, one last look at the edit won’t hurt.

You go back to the fan edit. Glance at it, slap your hand over your face, peek through your middle and ring finger. Fuck.

The arousal that had pooled before in your underwear was now a full-on ocean. Really, you should have more decorum than this. You don’t really want to bother Jungkook, he’s had a busy week with the boys… but it also has been two days since you two have had sex.

Fuck it.

You swing your legs off the bed, shuffle down the hallway of your apartment. You spot your boyfriend lounging on the couch, his back to you. Even from where you stand, you can see his build, his biceps.. Gosh. You sound like a hormonal teenage girl.

You creep up behind him, wrap your arms around his neck and press a few sloppy kisses down it. His hand flies up to caress your arm that’s hung around his neck, a little laugh leaving his mouth, “Well, hello to you too.”

You decide then and there in that moment: You’re going to die if you don’t have him. Maybe that’s a little dramatic, but you’ve lost all strength.

“Hi,” your voice is frail, weak even, as you kiss along his jaw. He sucks in a deep breaths, fingers drawing circles on your arm. His eyes are glued to the television screen like if he looks anywhere else, he might combust.

You detach your arms from around him, moving to the front, blocking his perfect view of the screen. He looks up at you with those doe eyes you love so damn much. One look at you and he gathers quickly there will be no more watching of television.

With little words, you straddle him, knees on either side of his thighs. Jungkook feels up your thighs, smirks a little, “What did I do to earn this right now?”

You are well aware of how needy and desperate you look right now, but that doesn’t matter. You let out a little sigh, pushing your lips onto his. For some reason, you feel like some little fangirl who is hooking up with her celebrity crush. The cold metal from his lip ring is a welcomed feeling, and you place your hands on his neck, feeling the structure and heat of his skin. God, you are going to cum just from this kiss if you keep it up.

Pulling away a little, you look into his eyes, “Nothing specifically… I just…”

You sigh, go back in to kissing him again. Those plump pink lips of his work against yours, shivers running down your spine as he runs his hands up and down your bare thighs. “Just what, baby?” He speaks in a low tone in between the incessant kissing.

“I’m so fucking horny,” You admit.

Upon the minute those words leave his mouth, you feel his cock begin to press against your inner thigh. You’ve got him right where you want him. And it’s not that this isn’t normal; it is. But you’ve essentially offered yourself up to him on a silver platter and the act of desperation you got going on right now is really doing it for him.

“Hmm?” He hums against your lips, his hands roaming underneath your shirt to trace your spine. And you could marry him right now for being so quick to go along with it. For not pushing you, for letting you set the pace.

You start to grind yourself down on him, the wetness soaking through your pajama shorts you have on. It is criminal how much you need this man inside of you, now. “What do you need from me, baby?” He starts to kiss down your neck as light whimpers exit your throat from the friction of your shorts on his grey sweatpants.

“N-nothing,” You exhale out. “Let me ride you.”

“Fuck.” He groans out.

“You need me that bad?” He brushes a strand of hair off your shoulder, kisses down your supple skin.

“Yes, please,” Your voice cracks. You can’t take it anymore; you think you might combust into a million little pieces.

“Well, go on, my love,” He removes his lips from your skin, smirks, sits back against the couch. “Have me.”

He does not need to tell you twice. There’s no time for pleasantries. You move your legs off his, lower down his sweatpants enough for you to be able to access his boxers. You kick off your shorts, leaving the underwear on; there’s not a single shred of a fuck left in you.

Jungkook is sat there, an amused look plastered on his face, mixed with a level of adoration you are not sure you have seen before. His arms have moved, now splayed out across the top of the couch, his biceps flexing. You straddle him again, remove his throbbing cock from the confines of his boxers. Fuck, if you weren’t so ready for him, you would’ve taken him into your mouth.. but alas, no time to waste.

You push your panties to the side, rub your juices over his length. He lets out a little moan at that, watches you eagerly get ready to take him whole.

With a gasp, you align him to your entrance in search of relief. You engulf him, take him in inch by inch until you bottom out. Honestly, you could unravel just from that. “Holy fuck, baby,” His head falls back, eyes still glued to the sight of you fully taking him to the brim.

You never really do get used to how big he is; when you two first started dating, he stretched you out so wide you were certain you would never recover. Your bottom lip is sucked in between your top teeth, rushed exhales leaving your body as you slowly begin to move, begin to gyrate your hips and lift yourself up and down on his pulsing cock. “Oh my god,” You breathe out, hands moving to his broad chest, gripping onto him to steady yourself

He’s not doing much, besides just watching you in complete and utter awe, and yet that still takes your breath away. “You look so unbelievably sexy right now,” He says, barely even realizing the words leave his mouth, since they were mostly meant for his inner thoughts. His hands come around to land on your hips, the pads of his fingers pressing into the bone. There will definitely be a bruise there tomorrow.

You lull your head back, close your eyes tight. It’s all you can do to try and keep yourself together. You’re an absolute mess right now; pussy squelching with each stroke, his cock a mix of yours and his arousal. The only sounds that can be heard in the apartment are the slapping of skin and the moans that continually leave both of your mouths. “[Y/N]…” He moans out. You look at him, deep in those eyes that you love so much.

And there’s such… desire on his face, his pupils blown wide, his jaw slack. He is so undeniably hungry for you, and it’s going to kill you. You speed up your bounces, losing a little more control with each and every passing moment. Your arms snake around his neck, pull him even closer to you. “Fuck, I am so close,” You whisper out, mostly to calm yourself down.

“Yeah?” Is the only word he can muster right now. “Need you to cum for me. Want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

It is all so filthy; the sounds, the look he’s giving you, the way your nails are digging into the flesh of his neck and leaving marks. Your half-lidded eyes meet his, gaze dropping down to his lips. You press a few sloppy kisses on them.

“You like this, hmm?” he asks, fingers digging even deeper into your hip bones that you’re certain he is leaving an imprint on your skull. “Having me like this ready for you? Does that get you off?”

His words elicit a clench around his cock, your walls tightening around him. He is absolutely correct. He knows he’s hit the mark. “Talk to me.” His tone is soft but threatening.

“Y-yes, it does. Oh my god, Kook..” You can barely think, any singular thought beside how incredible his cock feels inside you, how you can feel him penetrate your stomach with his entire length. “I’m gonna cum.”

It’s so close, it’s teetering on the edge. Every nerve ending in your body craves him to a point where you wonder if you need to be institutionalized. All you can see is that stupid edit made by that fan flash across your head, your brain unable to comprehend that that is the man you currently have inside of you. “Cum for me, darling..” He coos.

It nearly wrecks you, this orgasm. It washes over your entire being and you’re so loud you’re certain your neighbors will come knocking down your door. Your bounces go from focused to frantic, hips gyrating wildly, and he wraps an arm around your entire waist, picking you up lightly. He begins thrusting into you at a shallow, quick pace, chasing after his own release. Jungkook lets out a few grunts, eyes trained on the sight in front of him; and then he shudders, his cock throbs inside of you, head falling onto your shoulder as he feels himself empty out inside of you. You’re struggling to catch your breath, gripping onto the hair at the nape of his neck.

“My god..” You breathe out. You’re still sitting on him, cock warm inside you as he lifts his head from your shoulder, meets your fucked-out face.

“Baby, that was so incredibly hot, you have no idea,” His face is flushed, hand reaching up to caress your cheek. You entwine your arms and legs around him, holding him close, drawing him deeper into you. You stay there, hearts pounding in unison, as if they're each trying to break free from your chests, desperate to draw nearer. And still, even in this perfect closeness, you long to feel him even closer.

“Mhmm,” You hum out, quite content with yourself. You press a soft kiss to his lips.

“So… care to share what made you jump my bones?” He teases, pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Oh, nothing…” You act coy, but the heat creeps onto your face regardless. He pokes your side, eliciting a giggle from you that has you folding like origami.

“Maybe… just saw a little something on TikTok..” You trace circles on his collarbone, avoiding his gaze.

“Continue.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Some girl made an edit of you..” It’s low when it leaves your mouth, he can barely hear it. “Just wanted to remind myself I can have you.. whenever I like.���

You bury your face into his neck in sheer embarrassment, feeling his warmth and the vibration as he chuckles. “You can have me whenever. I’m yours, baby.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

[yzzart]

WHEN I WAS LED TO YOU... ── KENJI SATO

── summary: Kenji could get used to his routine, but, only with you by his side.

── word count: 982!

── warnings: F!reader, nothing intense, mention of Emi and Mina, Kenji being a little needy.

“Come on…” — A voice, entering the melody with softness and familiarity, passed through the player’s ears. — “…i know you’re awake.” — The statement was accompanied by a laugh.

Kenji could easily — in fact, completely — conclude that that voice belonged to an angel; even though he doesn't admit to being so religious, openly. — By having his eyes closed, in satisfied tiredness and drowsiness, he was more likely to believe in his conclusion.

Even in unpleasant, unstable situations and, insanely, worries about his life — like worrying about his stats in games, trying not to destroy the city while fighting some monster, and teaching Emi something practical and not blunt — and not wanting to hear or see nothing in front of him, Kenji had his refuge; a place to feel safe and at peace, at home.

“Ken…” — You voice pleaded, with more sweetness and, trying, to mix a little seriousness. In addition to moving between the thin, silky sheets of your body, wanting to get even closer to the boy.

In fact, he could melt into the bed, right there, just to hear your voice crying out to him like that.

Releasing a brief sigh, and pulling a breathing line, inhaling your scent, which was stuck to the pillow, Kenji tried to communicate with a mumble; which even he himself had no chance of understanding. — Perhaps, his consciousness still remained trapped in his sleep.

Because you found his action funny, your laugh, a little more hoarse, enveloped Ken's ears again; automatically forming a placid smile on his lips. — Moving his head, the young boy, with his eyes sensitive to the light, comes across your image resting on the pillow and covered, just enough, with the white sheet.

Sato was mentally grateful for the privilege of waking up every day with this vision.

"Good morning, my love." — You said, without holding back your wide smile; something that captivated and welcomed Ken's chest. — Your orbs moved, without haste or greed, across the boy's face, memorizing, for countless times, every little dot that existed in the region.

"Morning..." — He replied, followed by a yawn and another grumble; a sudden and unexpected movement was caused in the bed, obviously, it was the player's body snuggling against your. — Like he wants to fit in with you. — "What time is it please…?"

“Hm…” — Your eyes crossed the clock next to the bed. — “Soon, it will be 9:30.” — With his head buried in your neck, Sato let out a whimper, causing a tickle.

“It’s not possible…” — He complained, almost whimpering; as a sign of caress, your hand entered your lover's soft black hair, causing affection and tenderness.

The oldest settled down, and, briefly, relieving a growl, memorizing a purr; feeling on your skin, a satisfied smile adored by the attention. — A true paradise for young Sato and he had no problem admitting it.

“I think someone forgot about the interview they promised for today, right?” — He definitely forgets; by the way his head moved from where it was, and how wide his eyes were, Ken had nowhere to run. — “Yeah, you forgot.” — You raised one of your eyebrows.

“Wasn’t it due tomorrow?” — He questioned, still not believing and with some messy black locks standing out on her forehead. — “I’m sure i had it scheduled for tomorrow.” — He rushed into words. — “Actually, i’m not so sure.”

End of the season, therefore, decisive games for the team and more efforts towards a high level of dedication; it also meant several interviews and moments of questioning about the games, his teammates and his personal life. — Sato understood that it was important, of course, it was part of being a baseball star, however, when trying to balance his life as an Ultraman, a player and, recently, the father of a giant baby lizard, it wasn't such a simple thing.

He wasn't alone, not to mention Mina, and, thankfully, he had you by his side. — Trying, as much as possible, and persisting in helping him; even when, thinking about your care and certain risks, he warned you that he didn't need it. — Evidently, the guidelines were not followed, for a pleasant reason. — And now, seeing you taking care of Emi, as if she were your child, lit up Sato's eyes.

“It really is today, Ken.” — You confirmed it and, unsurprisingly, another wave of mumbles and incomprehensible words and rolled eyes. — “At least, it will be the last one before they enter the rest period.” — Your hand moved along Sato's long, strong, bare arm, reinforcing his attention.

“At least there is a bright side.” — He murmured, shaking his head, prolonging his thoughts, at the same time, reusing the contact of your hand against his skin. — “I need to take a break.” — He said, turning towards you. — “Urgently.” — Like a somewhat defenseless creature, he returned to his comfort, now, with his head under your chin.

"I know, honey." — Your fingers stroked Kenji's hair, for the second time, while his arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you, with the need to keep you close to him. — “And you will soon.” — Subtly, and delicately, your voice soothed him. — “Don’t worry about Emi, i’ll take care of her for today.” — Kenji thanked, once again and mentally. — “And maybe we’ll make a list of what we can do during these days off and she’ll go along with us.”

Your boyfriend's familiar, radiant laugh spread throughout the room, resounding in your chest. — For a short time, Kenji had understood his relationship with Emi and achieved a paternal image; visibly, it wasn't just him. — The small, and immense, baby witnessed you as a second mother.

“Yes, yes, of course.” — He pulled away, coming face to face with you, looking into your eyes, in pure ecstasy and passion. — “You’re the best, dear.” — Bringing his lips to your forehead, Kenji gave you a long, careful kiss.

[peoniesnro]

Perfect Partner | Sequel 1

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

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre- Yandere | Dark Romance

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

Word count- 9K

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

DON'T BLAME ME

This is the sequel, read the first part here -

Perfect Partner

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

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

Why are you in so much pain? 

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

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

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

“Oh, you’re awake?” 

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

“How are you feeling pretty?” 

Pretty?

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

Pretty………….

Hi pretty!

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

Pretty. 

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

Stupid AI character!

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

Jeongguk….

Jeongguk…

Jeongguk…

Tattoos.

Piercings.

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

A Lip ring.

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

Piercings.

Jeongguk.

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

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

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

No. Oh God no! This isn’t happening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…………………………….

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

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

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

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

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

Princess?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……………………….

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

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

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

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

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

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

“JungKook.” He states. 

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

Oh!

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

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

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

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

A fresh sob erupts from your throat. 

You’re trapped with a psychopath. 

…………………………..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I-”

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

………………………….

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

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

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

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

Smart motherfucker!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” Questions. 

“Yes.” You confirm. 

……………………………

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

No, you shouldn’t think that way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, pretty, but no.” 

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

“Why not?” You grit your teeth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shoot open your eyes. 

What did he say? 

Again?

Always loved you?

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

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

……………………..

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, you have to at least try.

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

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

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

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

You need to fucking hurry!

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

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

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

Yes, that’s it.

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

1997

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

Password incorrect!

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

Something that’s valuable to him. 

Something he lov-

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

You!

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

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

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

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

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

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

D

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

No. That can’t be.

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

“What are you doing?” 

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

A beat passes.

You watch how his expression instantly calms down. 

That can’t be.

He gives you a sympathetic look. 

That isn’t Daebi’s number.

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

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

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

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

…………………….

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

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

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

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

You know her. 

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

Daebi!

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

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

Hoseok!

No. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

D

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

“Hello!” 

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok. 

And the line disconnects. 

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

You can’t believe it. 

But it is the truth. 

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

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

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

…………………………..

At Daebi’s place

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……………………

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

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