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hwnglx · 20 hours ago

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pick a pile - your ideal type vs. your future spouse

hi dear reader! i thought of an idea where i could look into how you guys' ideal types compare to your future lovers. note that this is a general reading, so not everything will resonate with everyone! breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. remember to take what resonates, and let the rest flow. 𓆩♡𓆪

⋆˚࿔ pile 1 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

your ideal type

in your romantic partners, you're looking for a best friend.

someone you can cheerfully celebrate the highs in your life with. a person who will be able to bring you a sense of joy and happiness in life.

it's likely you want someone who's like your good luck charm. they brighten up your life in the most pleasant ways, and are able to provide you with the feeling of positivity and bliss.

you know when these special people enter your life, and all of a sudden everything becomes more enjoyable. because of their presence in your life, things are fun again.

you want someone who will be a source of inspiration, and support for you. a person who can uplift and motivate you in the most rewarding manner.

i keep getting this feeling, you'd want your person to be someone who has this profound impact, where just talking to them can ease your mind and light up your day.

you'd want to have a lover whose voice brings you comfort, whose encouraging words become your source of confidence, whose presence gives you the feeling of enjoying to be alive.

i can sense you seeking to find this comfortable feeling of home in your lovers. someone whose warmth can make you feel safe, and secure.

i believe you're a person who's very introspective, someone who's constantly on this journey of self-discovery.

therefore you'd like a partner who will be supportive, and accompany you on that journey; someone who will be your companion in life, and help you understand yourself better.

you'd like an individual who will help you heal, grow, discover and proudly embrace your best, most confident self. someone whose positive energy is contagious and helps you thrive.

you want your lover to be reliable and resilient. someone you can lean on with no second thoughts. who will be there for you no matter what. a person who will take you with everything that you come with, and still remain loyal and devoted to you.

a person who, although they're passionate, knows how to control their temper, won't be discouraged by tough times, and remain committed and persevering, regardless of struggles you might go through together. you want your lover to be a like a rock in your life.

you do want someone who is fiery, powerful, charismatic, self-assured, knows what they want. you're likely to be drawn to people who have fire energy; a strong presence. people who are aware of their worth, and whose attendance can't be missed once they step into a room. but you don't want your partner to be too full of themselves, overbearing, or too intense.

you want them to be mature, trustworthy and responsible. a person you can build a stable, comfortable and secure, but also playful and joyous relationship with.

your future spouse

so, one aspect which you'll probably like to hear; your fs is likely to be quite mature, possibly older than you in age.

they're pretty powerful, disciplined and steady. the first impression they have on people, is likely to be quite strong.

they aren't a person who's overly emotional at first glance, and moreso carry themselves in an emotionally reserved and controlled manner.

your fs for sure has strong leadership qualities to them. they're good at commanding attention and demanding respect from the people around them. it's the type of energy that makes everyone in the room shut up, once they speak up. to note, they could also be quite stubborn, and opinionated at times.

another significant aspect though, is that they're immensely supportive and generous towards their loved ones.

this is a person who's likely to have a heart that is much more compassionate than what meets the eye. someone who, although they aren't always immensely expressive when it comes to their feelings, has a true heart for people in need.

your future lover is someone who's giving and generous. i can see their love languages leaning towards the acts of service and giving gifts side.

this person has a strong sense of justice, they're likely to be very fairminded. they don't like disharmony, and will be there to help out the underdog if they feel like they're being treated in an unjust manner.

i can see this person surprising people with how nice they can actually be, because they usually seem so serious, more stern and intimidating on the outside.

this is also a person, who values harmony and stability in their relationships, especially in their family-life. a person who fosters an atmosphere, that's secure and comfortable. i can sense them possibly being closely tied to their families.

if you get to know this person in a deeper manner, you'll take note of how they exude warmth, and a vibe that's very inviting and comforting, when they're around the people they love. someone vibrant who can easily be the center of attention.

it's kinda giving the family's favorite son (note; their energy is quite masculine) who everyone runs to greet, once they enter the room. a popular, charming and well-liked person whose energy can light the atmosphere up in a lively manner.

what's interesting, is that i did get the four of wands for both your ideal type, and your future spouse.

so, it's highly likely for them to be able to fulfill this wish you have, of finding a person who not only makes you feel comfortable and at ease, but also genuinely happy. like you've finally arrived at home once you're in their arms.

⋆˚࿔ pile 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

your ideal type

you're giving me wise, mindful and cautious energy. it does seem like you are someone who prefers testing the waters before jumping into relationships.

you're likely to collect information on people first, before fully giving in.. as in getting to know them thoroughly. by doing that, you're trying to get a good understanding of their character, and whether you can see them being a valuable addition to your life.

there's this observant energy to you, where you can take note of the smallest details in people. you probably like it when others are also able to compliment you on the small things not everyone would notice, like e.g. the perfume you're wearing that day.

you value mental compatibility. you want a person who's smart, fun, quick-witted, clever. someone you can have interesting, thought-provoking and intriguing conversations with. discussions that range from complex and profound ones that make you reflect, to playful ones that make you laugh.

you like honesty, and transparency. you don't want someone who will beat around the bush, walk on eggshells, or give you any mixed and confusing signals. you desire a trustworthy person who can be straightforward, and open with you.

a big focus here, is on expansion and transformation.

you'd like a person who will help you explore, as well as expand. especially mind-wise, by talking about subjects that make you introspect.

i don't think you mind your lover being very different to you, whether that's culturally, ethnically, language-wise or opinion-wise. on the contrary, you seem to believe that views, beliefs or mindsets that are different to yours to a degree, can have significant impact on your life, and help you evolve, which is why you're likely to welcome it.

there just needs to be compatibility when it comes to the path you're aiming to go down in the future. in your eyes, there does need to be a certain alignment in values, objectives and intentions, in order for the connection to work out.

you want a partner whose existence, rather than becoming a presence that distracts you from the important things in life, will help you be more self-aware.

you want someone who can help you transform and thrive into your best self. a presence that finally makes things seem clearer, and helps you feel whole, happy, warm and complete.

it's this feeling of “being with this person feels right. this is who i'm supposed to be with. their presence is healthy for me and my journey. instead of sidetracking me from my life-path, this is a person who will be supportive of me, and willingly hold my hand while i'm trying to heal from the past and understand what's right for my own life.”

again, i don't see you rushing into your relationships.

you're someone who looks at healthy connections developing in a slow pace, but steadily.

you want a person who will be patient, conscious and consistent in the effort they invest into the maintaining the security of the relationship, and taking things step by step.

some of you might've gone through some negative experiences in regards to relationships; not just romantic ones, but human connections in general. this might've caused you to become more wary and careful about how to proceed.

at this point, you've become adamant on making sure you don't let anyone into your life, who will bring any unwanted and unwelcomed negativity, that only drags you down.

a lot of focus on true happiness and fulfillment here too. you desire a person who can enrich and brighten your life, and keep your spirits high. someone who brings you a sense of joy.

you want to make sure you're with someone mature, righteous and self-aware, who makes healthy choices in life, is sure of what they want, and doesn't play games.

what it boils down to, is you liking someone who takes the relationship as seriously as you do.

this pile is giving scorpio/virgo/gemini/mercury energy

your future spouse

so first of all, i can see your future spouse being air-dominant. they're definitely big thinkers; someone who mostly functions with their mind, and bases a lot of their decisions on logic and rationality, instead of their emotions.

this is a person who's likely to match your desire for intellectual stimulation. they're funny and clever, very witty. likely to usually be quite blunt, and at times a little playfully snarky in the way they express themselves.

this pile definitely gave me the biggest “bickering” vibes. i feel like both you and your fs, are people who showcase their affection by teasing and provoking. it's giving this couple who bickers over trivial and little things. to others it might look like you're arguing all the time, but for you, it's the way you express fondness towards each other.

this person has such a continuously running and active mind, that they can be prone to overthinking and at times, diving into some problems way too deeply.

this is someone who's quite charismatic and attractive, i feel like they're physically good-looking. luscious hair, nice skin. perhaps more tan. great and blinding smile. good figure as well, they might be athletic, or at least look that way.

this person seems to have been through some impactful break-ups or separations before, which have messed their confidence up to a degree and transformed them. there were certain things they needed to let go of, and move on from.

one insight i keep getting, is your fs being someone who's much more dedicated, devoted and loyal to their romantic partners, than one would think at first impression.

i kept getting so many swords, but i couldn't shake this feeling there's a different side to them deep down. it just moreso seems buried down right now; i don't see it having many opportunities to come out, since i believe they're on more of an independent streak right now. and focused on healing before getting into another commitment.

so when i asked if they're out for longterm and committed relationships, i got the king of pentacles. this card represents a masculine and solid person who's stable, reliable, patient, faithful. they might not be the most extravagant and lovey dovey affectionate partner out there, but their devotion lies deep.

it's quite likely for their venus to be in an earth sign, perhaps taurus, or fall into the seventh house.

they do have a strong sense of responsibility, and are more self-aware than one would imagine. this person might come off differently, than they actually are deep inside. many people might misjudge or misunderstand them.

the type of person who everyone would look at as a player, when they're not. they might have a fire rising, actually. their energy kinda reminds me of jimin from bts, who's a libra sun and mercury, gemini moon, and sagittarius rising.

your fs isn't someone who just recklessly acts on a whim with no consideration for others and blindly lives according to their selfish instincts; but a person who does reflect about the impact their actions have on people, and can easily feel guilty for saying or doing the wrong thing at the wrong time.

again, there is something which gives them this harsh honesty in their communication. it's likely they aren't good at sugarcoating or attuning their words to anyone's emotions, so they might unintentionally rub some people wrong at times.

they're probably not very emotional themselves, so they could have trouble empathising with overly emotional individuals.

they mostly try to rationalize their feelings, because it can just.. get too overwhelming. your fs can have issues truly understanding what's going on inside of them.

they also give me the vibe of someone who might have the tendency to care a little too much about what people think, and get overly attached to people's opinions of them, though they probably wouldn't really like admitting this.

because of this, they're likely to moreso deal with their inner insecurities on their own, and putting on a “happier” facade than what actually goes on inside.

your future lover definitely seems like a person who's out for marriage. it's likely that it's one of their main objectives when it comes to their love life. finally finding a person they can make that everlasting promise to, and swear their eternal love to.

both, your fs and you, seem to be on journeys of healing past wounds right now. you have the potential to offer each other a lot of understanding and acceptance, since you do seem to share certain similarities, which can make for a deep bond.

just a gentle encouragement for you to not lose sight of your track and keep standing strong and tall, on your own two feet.

i feel that the universe is lying out the path for you two to meet, when divine timing deems you as ready.

note for this pile: i literally had a dream the night after reading about a guy who matches the energy i got here so so well, they were very charming and craaazy handsome.. they were speaking on the phone about something while laughing and sitting on a couch lol this is for sure someone talkative

⋆˚࿔ pile 3 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

your ideal type

worthy to note that this pile immediately, even before reading, gave me water energy.

i also kept feeling like i have my head in the clouds and am in a daze, i couldn't concentrate and focus as well while reading. a lot of you might have strong water placements, or significant neptune aspects. perhaps neptune in the first house?

i also got a lot of pentacles here, so you might feel yourself being drawn to earth placements. (thought of jay from enhypen who's a taurus stellium with a taurus venus and cancer moon, could see his energy matching you guys well)

anyhow, what you're looking for, is a partner who's fully focused on only you. someone who's gonna make you their world.. spoil you with thoughtful gifts, shower you with attention, turn you into the center of their universe.

you might even enjoy some possessiveness, and like the thought of your lover becoming jealous and territorial of you. you like the type of person who protectively keeps you at their side at all times, e.g. doesn't let go of your hand in public. you desire this feeling of security; like you're in the safest hands.

you want someone who will help you realize your true worth. a person who will strengthen your self-esteem.

you know this thing when you're dating someone, and there's this feeling of.. “wow, how does this person love me so much? guess i really must be something special”

you want someone to love you in such wonderful and profound ways, that it makes you become more aware of your value. someone whose perspective on you, makes you adjust yours as well. someone who looks at you as beautiful, which makes you feel beautiful.

you like people who are willing to fight for you. someone who's courageous, and not afraid of arguing or getting their hands dirty for you. you desire a lover who will place themselves in front of you in order to protect you fiercely. it is kinda giving this k-drama boyfriend who beats up other men once someone looks into the direction of their girl, lmao.

you're likely to enjoy the thought of having an older and more mature partner. perhaps someone taller than you in height, and broader than you in their build as well.

you want someone emotionally intelligent, who's empathetic. a person who's a calming and gentle listener. a lover who's more in control of their emotions and can therefore be a reliable figure in your life, that you can comfortably lean on.

you're a person who enjoys daydreaming, idealizing, fantasizing. it's likely you've already pictured and imagined what you'd want your perfect partner to be like several times and enjoy dreaming of your romantic 🥰✨ love story.

another insight i got, is that you're probably someone who enjoys the idea of taking pictures of your lovers, or getting your picture taken. making precious memories, taking these cute “pov” boyfriend/girlfriend material photos of each other, and both of you making it your lockscreen. sweet little signs of affection like that are likely to melt your heart.

you probably enjoy the thought of walking through the streets of beautiful and idyllic places together, maybe paris or tokyo with all the cherry blossoms, and feeling like you're on cloud nine together with your lover. i got reminded of how hyunjin and felix from skz used to walk around paris together with their cameras in their hands, and take pretty pictures of each other, like this.

you likely just love gently descending into this dream, of how lovely it could be if only you could spend enjoyable days like this together with your prince or princess charming.

the current transit of venus in pisces is definitely heightening this pile's energy

one thing i will say though, is that i do believe you wouldn't want your partner to completely sacrifice and drop everything for you. you'd like to have a lover who's good at juggling multiple priorities. someone who has good time management skills, and knows how to take care of several different areas of their lives. though of course, you'd like to be a big priority, and have them all to yourself once you're able to with them. you desire an endlessly devoted person, who will absolutely reserve a special time of the day for you two only.

i can see you liking your lover's love language to be physical touch, giving gifts and quality time. you probably love the idea of getting these dazzling and fancy gifts, like couple rings.

your future spouse

this person is very well put-together. they definitely carry themselves in quite a self-satisfied manner. likely to even give off a slightly arrogant vibe to people. a little bit like a person who sees themselves as very important and special.

your future lover is likely to be someone who's pretty good at handling heartbreaks. they have a lot of inner strength and resilience. contrary to what it might seem like, i don't think this person has always had the perfect and flawless life full of sunshine and rainbows; they've just developed thick skin over time. they're quite immune to pain now, because they've been able to grow and transform from their heartache.

people on the outside are likely to see them as someone who always has their shit together, and is very blessed. but again, that's just because your fs is good at dealing with their problems in a graceful manner. they aren't the type to make their inner struggles very obvious.

they also seem like a person who's pretty perfectionistic, which is a quiet but heavy burden they might carry on their back a lot.

feeling this constant need to display themselves in the best light only, not being sure if they can ever live up to anyone's expectations. they're likely to be quite hard on themselves.

the type of person to obsessively check every picture that was taken of them, out of worry they came out looking bad.

they are giving me “golden child” energy. i keep thinking of family somehow. they might feel a lot of pressure from their families, or their closer environment, to be perfect.

however, they also do give me slightly spoiled energy here. they might've grown up in a very protected environment, and have therefore been more shielded from certain “real world” problems the “normal” person has to deal with.

they could either come from a privileged family, be in a privileged position, perhaps through fame or wealth, or have grown up with overly protective and smothering parents. some of them could also just be spoiled only children.

this is likely to have led to them being rather inexperienced in some areas in life. i don't seem them as very narrow-minded though, on the contrary; they do seem curious and interested, as well as open and eager to exploring new things.

this is likely to be a person who isn't from your typical circle. there's a high likelihood for them to be a foreigner. you could either meet them online, like a dating app or social media, or while you're on a trip overseas of some sort.

very central theme for you two; being immensely interested in getting to know each other, considering you're so different.

it's this thing when you meet someone from a completely different background or with a very different lifestyle to yours, and naturally get curious about a variety of different things.

it can get quite fascinating, i can especially see your fs getting excited to hear about your everyday-stories. there is a childlike innocence to them. like this cute and youthful glow in their eyes when they're listening to something that intrigues them.

they're someone who's quite excitable and energetic, especially when they get to do fun and adventurous activities.

very likely for this person to have strong fire placements. i'm getting a sagittarius or aries moon or mars, perhaps.

the two of you are likely to hit it off quite fast, the chemistry is amazing. though i don't see the energy being romantic right away, there's this vibe of you two just clicking very well. beautiful harmony between you and your fs.

you could text a lot, or regularly meet up at café's together.

i also get this snowy and cozy fall and winter atmosphere with warm coffee vibes for some reason. this could be a significant factor for some of you. you're welcome to take whatever resonates with you personally, and leave the rest.

meeting up with this person is likely to uplift you in a beautiful way. this warm, cozy and fuzzy feeling i'm getting, is likely to relate to how you guys will feel when around your fs as well. it will be so comfortable, the conversation will flow naturally.

the existence of this person is likely to make you feel renewed. life will just seem brighter, more beautiful and pleasant.

you could feel this inner contentment, that makes many of your problems seem less dramatic, now that you have this special source of light by your side.

your fs is likely to find the same warmth in you guys as well.

the sun in the end is such a beautiful way to end the spread; think of how the sun makes you feel. warm, comfortable. it's also very vital in energy and healthy for you. that's how the dynamic between you and your fs is likely to play out.

thank you for reading ᰔᩚ i'd love to hear you guys' feedback on what resonated for you

#kpop tarot #pac reading #pac #tarot reading #tarot community #tarot #personal reading #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading

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misty-surveys · 2 days ago

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if you have a lighter, what color is it? we have a green one with fern on it but we don't use it, in hs Nat is using one with art reminding us of Alfons Mucha, others choose whatever

pepsi box blue or cheetos bag orange? pepsi box blue

do you like pasta? we do

how often are you on tumblr? everyday! usually in the morning and evenings sometimes

are you only doing this because you’re bored? yes and no

what blogs do you mostly interact with? our favorite ones obviously, we follow over 200 blogs

have you had water today? yes, of course

which do you prefer, cotton candy or funnel cake? funnel cake I guess

bass or drums? drums

favorite tv commercial? host has few of 'em she might list someday maybe

can we be friends? don't know you :x

do you admire the clouds and color of the sky? at times

what’s the weirdest thing that’s happened to you? so many weird shit!

a netflix series that’s your favorite? can't choose

an earliest obsession you remember? host had an obsession on collecting monkey photos from newspapers/magazines and just articles about animals, she was constantly browsing her small encyclopedia on animals and it's still right next to me on the desk, one of few reasons we became animals ourselves...

do you play video games? not really

zombies or vampires? none anymore

your first celebrity crush? unsure who was real celeb crush for our host tbh

do you have a collection of cool rocks? yes, host does

five words that describe you? system, us, we, headmates, alters; for host - collector, sidekick, childish, small, clown

what have you learned about yourself? we know ourselves/each other better everyday!

can you tie a cherry stem with your tongue? nope

do you believe in aliens? dunno, don't care much

books or films? movies 100%, host read a lot during her childhood, when it comes to Brie he is reading way more in head space and isn't a big fan of movies but still watches them from time to time

an unusual song that’s your favorite? probably plenty of unusual songs for us ;)

the last thing you ate? host ate cookies with family

have you gotten bit by a dog? yes, host was bitten by a dog before and we were bitten by dogs in the inner world too

do you write better with a pen or a pencil? pen

a song that gets stuck in your head? none currently

when you hear “ peace ” what do you think of? hand sign

a school subject you're good with? depends

how many alarms do you have set? none, mom wakes us up

do you shop at thrift stores? host loves it!

what’s the meaning behind your url? it's our collective name

is there wise words you live by? nah, not really

you gotta have a favorite beatles song, what is it? Lio loves them but dunno which one is his favorite

earphones or a speaker? speaker more

what do you remember from your childhood? host remembers quite a lot actually

do you collect anything? she does - lots of stuff, we don't irl but some collect things in hs

favorite tea? black, sometimes with lemon but cold one

a christmas song you secretly like? why secretly? XD

book stores or record stores? book stores but Jacob would go to the record store

how weird were these questions? not weird at all

what scents do you like? we dislike most of scents, we're too sensitive

by Benji

weird asks because i’m bored

if you have a lighter, what color is it?

pepsi box blue or cheetos bag orange?

do you like pasta?

how often are you on tumblr?

are you only doing this because you’re bored?

what blogs do you mostly interact with?

can you swim?

have you had water today?

which do you prefer, cotton candy or funnel cake?

have you ever [insert question]?

bass or drums?

favorite tv commercial?

can we be friends?

do you admire the clouds and color of the sky?

what’s the weirdest thing that’s happened to you?

a netflix series that’s your favorite?

an earliest obsession you remember?

do you play video games?

zombies or vampires?

have you listened to [insert musician/band]?

your first celebrity crush?

do you have a collection of cool rocks?

five words that describe you?

what have you learned about yourself?

can you tie a cherry stem with your tongue?

do you believe in aliens?

books or films?

an unusual song that’s your favorite?

the last thing you ate?

do you have a favorite [insert question]?

have you gotten bit by a dog?

do you write better with a pen or a pencil?

a song that gets stuck in your head?

when you hear “ peace ” what do you think of?

a school subject your good with?

how many alarms do you have set?

do you shop at thrift stores?

what’s the meaning behind your url?

is there wise words you live by?

what’s your favorite [insert question]?

you gotta have a favorite beatles song, what is it?

earphones or a speaker?

what do you remember from your childhood?

do you collect anything?

favorite tea?

a christmas song you secretly like?

book stores or record stores?

how weird were these questions?

what scents do you like?

is there [insert question]?

send me some!

32K notes · View notes

pennyellee · 1 day ago

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 - 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐁

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 title: champagne confetti - side B (part 2 of champagne confetti) pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 18,4K beta read by @chaoticpuff17

main masterlist

Prompt 1:“you give me brand new emotion, you got me drinking that potion” Prompt 2: The lines did blur, in his mind for sure. Will you be tamed or will your passion for fashion falter for greater good - a life without Jeon Jungkook. When everything you’ve worked for hangs in the balance, his twisted love comes as both a gift and a curse.

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | physical violence, hint of incapable police department, jk is the boy saviour here and everybody bends backwards for his famous ass, dubious consent, possessive/obsessive behavior, emotional manipulation, references to medication that affects mental and physical responses as "drugs" or "pills" or "medication", power imbalance, themes of isolation and confinement, gaslighting, mentions of mafia and criminal underworld, forced intimacy, oral sex (m!receiving), numbness, reader's difficulties getting wet, use of lube, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, riding/cow girl, orgasm difficulties, creampie, and so on (if i'll forgot smth, im so soorrryy!)

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, abuse of medicine, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

previously: 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 next:

author's note: happy new year to all of you! so, where to start right? this was a long ass ride, mainly because i was fighting with myself to not burn out on this fic coz i loved it so much, and i still love it, but i won't lie that i got lil overwhelmed with how much love this fic received and how much pressure i had to suppress to not decide to just not finish part two. I am so so so grateful for each and one of you! ♥ and thank you for your patience too. Life's not easy, please understand that, i always try my best. Thank you all.

On a different note, part two a.k.a side B content is most likely something you might or might not expect to happen. And while I understand that many of you might not like where the narrative is headed, I humbly ask you to express your opinions in a nice and respectful way. If you wish to treat champagne confetti as a one-shot, I suggest you to not read part two, naturally.

1996 If they asked you how you managed to slip away when he had you in his grasp, ready to pull you back upstairs, you wouldn’t know the answer. That night became blurrier each day. All you remember is the rush of adrenaline as you pushed through the crowd, your heart racing with each step that took you further away from him.

If they asked how you ended up in the New York City police department, drenched in a flimsy pyjamas with an empty black file you once thought was your portfolio, shivering from the cold and sheer panic coursing through your veins, you wouldn’t know the answer.

If they asked how Jeon Jungkook picked you up not even thirty minutes later, knowing exactly which department you were at before you even managed to get your bearings and speak of what had happened to you, you wouldn’t know.

Apparently, you head-butted Jeon Jungkook. Well, that would explain why you were arrested and why he picked you up, ensuring the officers wouldn’t press charges against you.

Why didn’t you say anything to the officers, you may ask. Unless you did.

"You’re arresting me for what?! SELF-DEFENSE, MOTHERFUCKER, KIDNA—"

"Baby, that’s enough already. I’m so sorry, officer. I threw her birth control away by accident—"

That’s what he told them. You got into a fight over birth control, ran away in the heat of the moment, and accidentally head-butted him. You could still see the dried blood under his nose. His whole story felt like one truth mixed with lies, but you may not remember much. You certainly didn’t head-butt him by accident. You would never miss such a exquisite chance, god forbid.

"Are you seriously going to believe that sh—"

"Sir, she’s clearly having an episode. I’m so sorry about this," Jungkook’s voice dripped with concern as he addressed the officers, his hand running through his hair in apparent distress.

"Listen, you little—" your words were cut off by one of the officers raising his hand.

"Ma’am, please calm down. Mr. Jeon here is a respected man. These accusations you’re making are very serious."

"But he’s lying! He’s manipulating everything!—" your voice cracked with desperation.

"She’s been under a lot of stress lately," Jungkook interjected smoothly, fixing his gray zip-up hoodie, all dry unlike your clothing. "The fashion industry can be brutal. I’ve been trying to help her cope."

The officers exchanged knowing looks, their expressions softening as they regarded Jungkook with sympathy. One of them nodded understandingly, "We see these situations more often than you’d think, sir."

"I can take care of her from here," Jungkook assured them, his voice honey-sweet but his eyes cold as steel. "She just needs rest and her medication."

You watched in horror as the officers began nodding, your truth dissolving in the face of his perfectly crafted lies. The world seemed to tilt on its axis as you realized no one was going to believe you over him. He made you look like a psycho.

So, if they asked how in God’s name you ended up being led back to the glass cage you vacated only a few hours ago, with memories flashing before your eyes like a broken film reel, you wouldn’t know. Because that shit is straight-up unbelievable.

Each moment felt disjointed and surreal, a series of fragmented thoughts punctuated by Jungkook’s voice, smooth and calming yet laced with menace.

As he guided you back through the sleek hallways of the penthouse, the familiar opulence felt suffocating. The delicate decor, once a sign of luxury, now seemed to mock you. Jungkook’s hand rested on your lower back, a possessive gesture that sent chills down your spine.

"I hate you," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could rein them in.

Jungkook paused, the hand on your lower back tightening just enough to make you flinch. His gaze locked onto yours, those dark eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite decipher—was it anger, or something more akin to hurt? The sharp intake of breath that followed felt like a crack in his carefully crafted facade, and for a fleeting moment, the man behind the mask was revealed.

"No, you don’t. You don’t know what you feel," he replied, his voice low and steady, like the calm before a storm. The tightening grip on your back felt almost protective, but the intensity of his gaze was unnerving.

"I know enough. I know you’re trying to control every aspect of my life. You can’t keep me locked away forever."

"Locked away?" he echoed, the corner of his mouth twitching in a sardonic smile. "Is that how you see this? This is a sanctuary, a place where you’re safe. I’ve given you everything, Y/N."

"Everything?" you scoffed, your voice trembling with disbelief and rage. "You’ve taken everything from me, and now you added my dignity to the collection." The words hung heavy in the air between you, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of something dangerous flickering in his eyes.

"Well fucking done, Jeon–"

"Well fucking done, YOU!" He interrupted with his voice laced with anger.

"How do you imagine me trusting you after the stunt you just pulled?!" He turned to face you abruptly, screaming those words into your face.

"You are one to talk, Jeon! That baby room upstairs speaks volumes, you fucker!" Jungkook’s face turned pale, his eyes widening with genuine surprise.

"You went into the baby room?" His voice was a mix of shock and something else you couldn’t quite place—fear, perhaps?

"You hid the portfolio there, of course, I did."

"That room was supposed to be a surprise," he growled, stepping closer until you could feel his breath on your face.

"You had to ruin it."

"Surprise?" you shot back, your voice rising. "You can’t force a future on me that I don’t want, you moron!"

His hand shot out, gripping your arm tightly. "You think you have a choice in this?" he hissed. "You think you can just walk away and pretend none of this ever happened?"

"I know I can," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance. "And I will. You don’t own me."

Jungkook’s grip tightened, his face inches from yours. "You’re mine, Y/N. You always have been. And you always will be.”

"You’re insane," you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. You saw the change in color in his eyes when you said those words. With a burst of adrenaline, you yanked your arm from Jungkook’s grip and bolted up the stairs, his furious shouts echoing behind you. Your feet barely touched the steps as you flew toward the recording room, heart pounding with fear. Bursting into the room, you slammed the door behind you, your eyes locking onto the recording booth.

Jungkook stormed in moments later, his face contorted with rage. "I’m gonna fucking teach you a lesson, you ungrateful brat!" he bellowed, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.

You held perfectly still, watching as he moved closer to the recording booth. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing like a drum in your ears. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering around the room, before stepping into the booth.

As soon as he was inside, you sprang into action. You dashed towards the door, slamming it shut and locking it with trembling hands. Jungkook’s eyes widened in shock as he realized what had happened, and he lunged towards the door just as you secured the lock.

"What the fuck, Y/N!" he roared, pounding on the glass. "Let me out!"

Ignoring his furious shouts, you grabbed a nearby chair and wedged it under the doorknob, barricading the door. You took a step back, breathing hard, and met his furious gaze through the glass.

"This ends now."

You ran through the penthouse, desperate to escape before Jungkook could free himself.

As you reached the front door and yanked it open, you collided with a solid figure, stumbling back. You looked up to see a man with dark hair and intense eyes, his expression a mix of surprise and concern.

"Who the hell are you?" you snapped, your voice trembling with fear and adrenaline.

"Min Yoongi," he replied, his tone calm yet probing. "I’m a doctor. Jungkook called me—"

Panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to stay composed. "We don’t need a doctor. Jungkook is sleeping anyway," you lied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"He must have forgotten he even called you—"

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed as he took in your disheveled state, your pajamas still not dry, and the raw fear in your eyes.

"You look terrified," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "Are you sure everything’s alright?”

Your chest tightened, a wave of panic rising. You needed to get rid of him—fast.

"Really, Yoongi-doctor-whatever, it’s fine. I just need some rest—" You cut yourself off, realizing you were only digging yourself into a deeper hole. Yoongi looked unconvinced, his gaze piercing as he studied you.

Before you could finish, a loud crash echoed from upstairs, followed by the unmistakable sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Your heart skipped a beat, and your mind raced, knowing Jungkook must have escaped the recording booth.

Yoongi’s eyes flickered towards the noise, his expression darkening with suspicion. "What was that?" he asked, his voice laced with concern and suspicion. Your mind raced, trying to think of an excuse, but you knew it was futile.

"It’s nothing," you insisted, forcing a smile. "Probably just some stuff falling ov—" that’s when an even louder crash sound echoed. Yes. He is totally out of there. You couldn’t hold back anymore.

"Fuck!" you muttered under your breath, closing your eyes as you listened to Jungkook’s heavy footsteps. You could sense the rage in every thud. The tension between you thickened, your body shaking as his furious footsteps grew closer from upstairs. You could hear him bellowing for you, rattling the doors in his rage. The time to make a run for it was slipping away.

"I need to get out of here. Please, you have to help me," you pleaded, turning to Yoongi.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looked at you—his gaze unreadable, as if he was weighing something in his mind. After a beat, he spoke again, his voice clipped and cold.

"Don’t be like the others, Y/N."

You froze at his words, your blood running cold. "The others?" you whispered, barely able to comprehend what he was implying.

Yoongi didn’t elaborate, but the weight of his gaze told you everything you needed to know. The look in his eyes wasn’t one of compassion—it was something darker, more knowing.

Yoongi’s gaze was locked on you, but you couldn’t afford to stop, couldn’t afford to hesitate—not when Jungkook’s rage was closing in on you, his every step a reminder of how little time you had left. Without warning, you darted toward him, trying to push past him. Yoongi moved in response, stepping into your path, his cold gaze never leaving yours.

"You're not leaving," he repeated, his voice quieter now, but no less firm. His presence was like a wall, blocking every path of escape. You didn’t stop. You tried to shoulder past him, using every ounce of strength and fear-fueled desperation to break free, but his arm shot out, grabbing your wrist with an iron grip.

"Let go of me!" you hissed, thrashing in his hold.

Yoongi’s expression remained impassive, but you could see the subtle shift in his stance as he tightened his grip. He wasn’t letting go, not without a fight. You yanked your free hand back, driving it forward with all the force you could muster, slamming it into Yoongi’s chest.

"He said you’re a good girl, but all I see is a brat who needs to be tamed," he warned, his voice steady but sharp. You fought him again, but the door seemed impossibly far, and Jungkook was just moments away.

In that moment, all you could do was scream.

You slowly woke up, the soft hum of voices drifting into your awareness before the world around you even began to make sense. At first, there was nothing more than a distant buzz, the kind that lingers when you’re still trapped between sleep and reality. But as the fog in your mind began to lift, the sound of two familiar voices cut through the haze—Jungkook’s, low and impatient, and Yoongi’s, calm and cold.

You blinked slowly, your eyelids heavy as if you’d been drugged, though you couldn’t be sure. You tried to sit up, but your body felt sluggish, unwilling to obey. Everything seemed wrong. The weight on your chest. The thickness in your head.

"She’s still out of it?" Jungkook’s voice, sharp and worried, came from somewhere nearby.

You tried to focus, but the disorientation kept you from piecing together the words. Still, you could feel the presence of both men—close, but not yet in your line of sight.

"She's sleeping," Yoongi’s voice was colder than you remembered, a warning in its tone. You instinctively tried to move, but your limbs refused to cooperate. Panic threatened to claw its way to the surface, but you pushed it down, trying to stay composed. You couldn’t be weak. Not now.

"She’s stubborn," Jungkook murmured, frustration evident in his voice. "You know she’ll never accept it. If I show her the truth, she’ll run again."

Yoongi’s laughter was light, but there was no warmth in it. "You sound like Namjoon."

"How is Peaches?"

There was a pause, thick with unspoken tension, before Yoongi continued, his words measured but still carrying an undercurrent of something darker.

"Her recovery... is progressing very well. She’s strong. Stronger than we probably thought."

"That’s good to hear."

"You can mend the wounds, but the mind... that’s another matter. She won't be the same." You flinched at his words. What happened to the woman they are talking about?

"But that essentially works in Namjoon’s favor."

Jungkook’s voice grew quiet at Yoongi’s words, the weight of the implication settling between them like a heavy shroud.

"How so?" His tone held a mixture of confusion and curiosity, but there was an underlying edge, as if he didn’t fully trust where this conversation was heading.

"Namjoon... He’s always been good at seeing people as they are. He doesn’t need to force things. He knows how to manipulate the mind. To make someone want to comply."

Jungkook remained silent for a long moment. His breath was audible, shallow and strained, and you could almost feel his inner conflict.

"Well, I should stop by for a crash course ’cause apparently I cannot move this one," Jungkook huffed, frustrated. Yoongi’s laughter again, light but tinged with something darker this time.

"You need to claim her, make it official. Show the world that she’s yours." Your pulse quickened, and your mind started to get dizzy again.

"She’s already in your head. You think it’s the running that’s hurting you? No, Jungkook. It’s the fact that she’s living in your thoughts, in your every decision. You’ll bend over backward for her, but she’ll never respect you for it. She needs to see you take control. Then she’ll respect you. Then she’ll stay."

"How am I supposed to make her mine when she keeps running? My original plan is fucked; she saw the baby room, hyung."

"You’re overthinking it, Jungkook. She’s already seen it, so what? It’s not a crime to want a child, for fuck’s sake."

"She saw the future I was building for us, and she’s already rejecting it."

Yoongi let out a slow, calculated breath, his voice steady as he responded. "She’s rejecting it because you haven’t made her understand it yet. She doesn’t know what’s good for her. You’ve given her too many choices, Jungkook. You’ve let her think she has the power to decide. And look where that’s gotten you. She’s running, isn’t she?"

There was a pause. You could almost hear Jungkook’s thoughts racing as the truth of Yoongi’s words sunk in.

"You’ve got to take control of the situation, Jungkook. Make her see that there’s no running, no escaping, that there’s no reason to!--" he raised his voice an octave higher before he hushed it again when Jungkook motioned urgently to prevent from waking you up.

"Make her see that you’re the one who decides her future now. You’ve made all this for her—don’t let it slip away just because she’s scared."

"I don’t want her to be scared… I want her to want me." The weight of their expectations, of what Jungkook was being urged to do, twisted in your chest like a growing storm.

"Well, if this won’t work, we can think of something more—"

"Permanent."

The idea hit you like a punch to the gut. The thought of being pushed into a corner, with no choice but to accept the suffocating control, twisted your insides. This wasn’t love. This wasn’t a partnership. This was manipulation. But they didn’t care. They never did.

As you lay there, helpless and broken, the seeds of doubt and fear began to take root in your mind. Would you ever be able to escape? It was too much to listen to, and you don’t remember at what point in their conversation you fell back asleep.

"Sedate her, if you have to," Yoongi continued, his tone smooth but dangerous. "Keep her compliant. Keep her obedient. She can’t fight you if she doesn’t have the strength to."

"Once she’s fed up with all the side effects, she’ll do anything to stop it—"

"If she’s weakened, if she’s broken down enough, she’ll have no choice but to comply."

"What if she’s pregnant, hyung?" he asked, hope and worry evident in his tone. Yoongi rolled his eyes and sighed out of frustration.

"You boys should realize that pregnancy does not have to happen after you stick it in once, for fuck’s sake."

You woke up to the sound of running water, the steady rhythm of droplets hitting tile. Your head still felt thick, the remnants of whatever drugs they’d given you making it hard to fully shake off the fog. As you struggled to sit up, the door to the bathroom opened, and a cloud of steam billowed out. Jungkook emerged, a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair damp and tousled from the shower.

Your eyes instinctively scanned his body, taking in the intricate tattoos that decorated his arm. Each one seemed to tell a story, a piece of the puzzle that was Jeon Jungkook. He caught your gaze and threw a smirk your way as he began to dry his hair with another towel.

"You cooled down a little?" he asked, his tone light but with an underlying tension.

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry. "What did you give me?" you managed to croak out.

"Just something to help you rest," he replied, stepping closer to the bed. "You were exhausted, and I needed you to stay put."

"Stay put?" you repeated, trying to muster some anger, but the drugs still held you in their grip. "You drugged me, Jungkook."

"To protect you," he said, his voice firm. "And to protect us. This running has to stop, love. There is no getting away and that’s final."

You tried to sit up straighter, but your body refused to cooperate. "How is this supposed to work between us?" you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady. "You can’t just keep me here like this."

Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. "I know it’s not ideal, but I want to make this work. You just need to trust me."

"Trust you?" you scoffed, though it lacked the bite you intended.

"Yes, love, trust me." He moved closer, his presence overwhelming as he sat on the edge of the bed. You wanted to speak up, but he was faster.

"You are confused—"

"Confused?" you interrupted, your voice a weak protest. "I know exactly what’s going on."

"You think you do," he countered softly, "but you don’t see the full picture. You don’t see how much I care about you, how much I’m willing to sacrifice to keep you safe."

"Safe?" you echoed, feeling a mix of frustration and helplessness.

"Yes, and before you think of snooping around the penthouse again, your portfolio is already in the hands of someone who can give you a very high-profile job." You stared at him, processing his words through the haze.

"I kept my promise," his eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. It was never here, and the file you thought your portfolio was in, was just scribbles of something incoherent. You made a mistake. You should have given up the portfolio and just built your career from the ground up again. Or you should have never met Jeon Jungkook. Never given him the chance to fall in love with you, lure you in, and lastly fuck you good. Way too good.

"At what cost, Jungkook? My independence?"

His expression softened slightly, though his resolve remained.

"You need to stop fighting me. You need to see that this is for the best—"

He climbed onto the bed, his towel barely clinging to his hips as he moved closer to you. His presence was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but feel a mix of fear and reluctant fascination. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear.

"I want you to succeed," he whispered. "But you need to stop running for that to happen and let me take care of you."

Before you could respond, he captured your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It was a stark contrast to the confusion and fear swirling inside you, and for a moment, you found yourself melting into it.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. With that, he settled beside you, keeping you close and, as if it were a peace offering, he said:

"Friends is on the telly. Wanna watch?"

You stood under the shower, the warm water cascading over your body, trying to wash away the heaviness that clung to your every move. Despite the soothing temperature, you couldn't shake the lethargy that had settled deep in your bones. The antidepressants Jungkook insisted you take were doing their job, keeping you subdued, but they also left you feeling like a shell of yourself. You did not want to scream or argue. You had no strength to fight him; all you felt was a twisted, strange calmness.

The door was unlocked as there was nothing to lock them with, and he even insisted that wherever you are in the penthouse, the door will never be shut fully or you’ll lose the privilege to be alone even for a second. It was the aftermath of your little stunt in which you locked him in his recording booth and the state Jungkook left it in was not pleasant for the eye.

As you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. The person staring back at you seemed distant, a shadow of who you used to be. You had lost some weight, something Jungkook had noticed too, as his cooking became very carb- and protein-oriented.

In the kitchen, the smell of cooking filled the air. Jungkook was at the stove, focused on preparing breakfast while the stereo was on in the living room just like every morning. This time, he put the whole SWV album on repeat. You mentioned you liked girl groups. So now he plays girl groups in the mornings. The sight of him in his domestic element would have been comforting if not for the circumstances. Body covered by a large black shirt, his tattooed arm moved with precision, flipping whatever was on the pan and stirring a pot of something that smelled sweet.

"Morning," you said softly, your voice still raspy from sleep.

He turned, a smile spreading across his face. "Good morning, love. Did you sleep well?"

You nodded, though sleep had been fitful at best. "Yeah, better. Thanks."

In normal circumstances, you could imagine yourself sassing some nasty remark his way, but somehow that is not what your brain thinks of anymore.

"Good," he replied, his eyes flicking over you with an unreadable expression. "Breakfast will be ready soon. Take a seat, baby."

You moved to the table, your legs still unsteady. The medication made it hard to feel grounded, and you grasped the back of a chair to steady yourself. As you sat down, a memory flashed through your mind, a moment that made your stomach churn.

It had been a week ago, or maybe more. Time blurred under the constant influence of the drugs. You had missed a dose, intentionally, hoping for a moment of clarity. But Jungkook had noticed the difference in your demeanor almost immediately.

"Take it," he had ordered, his voice devoid of its usual warmth.

You had refused, shaking your head, trying to stand your ground. But the look in his eyes had shifted from concern to something darker, more desperate.

Before you could react, he had grabbed you, forcing you down onto the bed. The pills were shoved into your mouth, and he held your nose, forcing you to swallow. Tears had streamed down your face, the bitter taste lingering long after the pills had gone down.

"Don’t make me do this again," he had whispered, his voice breaking with frustration. "Just take them Y/N."

Since then, you had complied, taking the pills under his watchful eye, the memory of that night a constant reminder of what defiance would bring.

Jungkook set a plate of pancakes in front of you, breaking your reverie. "Eat up," he said, his tone softer now. "You’ve lost some weight."

You picked up a fork, your hand trembling slightly. As you took a bite, he sat across from you, watching you closely. The silence between you was heavy, filled with unspoken words and lingering tension. This is so fucking awkward.

"I, um…" you began, hesitating. "I need something."

"What is it?" he asked, his gaze never leaving your face.

"I need some Tampax."

Jungkook's expression hardened at your request, his jaw tightening. The silence stretched uncomfortably as he processed your words. "Tampax," he repeated, his voice flat.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. "Yes. I..I got my period."

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair.

"I thought you to be pregnant," he muttered, more to himself than to you. His frustration was palpable, the air thick with it.

"I'm sorry," you said automatically, though the apology felt hollow. What were you even apologizing for? For your body doing what it was supposed to do? For disappointing him? Why would you say that? Something flickered in his eyes when you said that, though.

"Can I go with you?" you asked carefully.

Jungkook's eyes shifted, darkening as he processed your question. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, the air seemed to thicken with tension. He remained silent, staring at you as if weighing something in his mind. You haven’t been out in what seems like a month. You wouldn’t know; he took out every single thing that indicated time or date, just as he made all the doors lack the keys so you wouldn’t ever lock him or yourself somewhere. But you have been behaving, and looking at Manhattan through the thick glass windows was just not enough anymore. He did not even let you step on the balcony.

"Where?" he asked, his voice low and guarded.

You flinched, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "To the store. To get the...tampons."

"I can take care of it—"

"Kookie, please."

The softness in your voice seemed to catch him off guard. His expression faltered for a moment, a brief flicker of uncertainty flashing in his eyes before he composed himself. Jungkook's hand gripped the back of the chair as if fighting the urge to reach for you, to demand that you stay where you were.

"Please," you repeated, your voice barely a whisper now, trying to steady the trembling in your chest. "I just want to... feel normal, just for a moment. Please, Kookie."

His gaze shifted from you to the window, the silence between you thick and heavy, suffocating. The idea of letting you go outside, even though he would be right there, scared him, and it was evident in how reluctant he was whilst granting you this plea.

"I promise I’ll behave—" you added quickly, your voice barely audible as you tried to make him see that this wasn't about defiance, but about a small piece of normalcy that you so desperately needed.

Jungkook stood frozen for a moment, the weight of your words hanging in the air like a fragile thread, ready to snap. He looked at you, eyes dark with something close to frustration, but there was a vulnerability too. You could see it in the tightness of his jaw, in the way his hands twitched, as though he was battling with himself.

Finally, he let out a slow breath, exhaling through his nose like a release of tension. "Fine," he muttered, the word falling between you like a reluctant concession.

"But you won’t get out of my sight." Jungkook continued, his voice hardening, as if the promise of letting you go outside came with an unspoken condition he couldn’t shake off.

You nodded, accepting his terms without argument. You didn’t have the strength to fight him on this, nor did you have the energy to explain that you weren’t asking for much.

A simple errand, just a quick trip.

"Let’s go, then," he said, his voice gruff.

You stood up, feeling the weakness in your legs from the antidepressants. They made you compliant, dulled your senses. Jungkook’s arm slid around your waist, his grip firm and possessive. You didn’t have the strength to resist.

Dressing was always a slow process for you, but this time for a different reason. While before you did not know what to choose to wear, now you just didn’t feel like dressing up. You chose simple clothes, if that word was ever even in your vocabulary – it is now. But when you looked upon your grey Max Mara coat with fur on the hem of its sleeves, you could not keep trying to hold on to some semblance of normalcy. You longed to be you again.

Jungkook’s eyes never left you. Not when you pulled on the last piece of clothing, not when you sat down to zip up your boots, and not when he put a warm scarf around your neck to keep you from the cold of December.

The car ride to the store was silent except for the radio that proudly played Christmas classics. You had to chuckle a little when you heard his voice playing from the radio of his reimagination of Oh Holy Night. It’s the time of the year, and you did not even realize how agonizingly slow time was in that penthouse. You stared out the window at the bustling streets of Manhattan, the snow-covered pavements, people all around. It was overwhelming, the normalcy of it all.

You walked into D'Agostino, and his hand never left yours while the other was pushing the trolley through the aisles. You looked at him, the sweater complimenting his build, his big brown coat on top of that.

You moved through the aisles, adding items to the cart under his watchful eye.

When you reached the health aisle, his grip tightened. You glanced up to see him slipping a box of pregnancy tests into the cart. Your heart sank, but you said nothing. That was what he was waiting for – to give him a reason to punish you in whatever way he pleased. But you wouldn’t give him that. Nonetheless, the implication was clear, and sooner or later you would have to fight him on that.

"Just in case," he mumbled.

As you turned the corner, you nearly collided with a couple that looked oddly familiar. They didn’t look normal, not in the way people usually did. There was something off about them, something familiar in a way that made your chest tighten. But you couldn’t put your finger on it.

"Jungkookie! Didn’t expect to see you here," the man said, his tone casual but with an underlying edge. His eyes lit up when he saw Jungkook, and it wasn’t hard to sense that they were far more than just friends. The man wore similar attire to Jungkook but in darker colors, his whole aura projecting wealth and power. She, on the other hand, was adorned in a striking red coat, her pregnant belly barely concealed beneath it. The red was too bright, too vivid, and you couldn’t ignore how much attention they drew, even in a crowd.

"Just running some errands. You know how it is." Jungkook’s voice and smile were thin, like something else was at play beneath his words. You could feel the tension in his body as he shifted slightly to face them. Was he scared of you misbehaving? Or acting up? Just what was going on in his head right now?

"Y/N, this is Jung Hoseok and his wife." There was a brief pause, his words heavy with something unspoken. Jung fucking Hoseok. You knew that name, knew the stories. The man was a businessman of the highest order, owning the distilleries producing the finest whiskey and brandy carrying the Jung’s and Kim’s name. He had nothing and everything at once with that fucking mullet.

"Hoseok, Princess - this is Y/N."

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than comfortable. His smile was smooth, disarming, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was a predator in the shape of a man.

"Nice to meet you, welcome to the family," he said smoothly, his tone warm, but his eyes glinted with something that made you feel as if he was evaluating you like a piece of merchandise. It was a greeting, but it didn’t feel like one. There was no warmth in it, no welcome. Not yet.

It was ownership, as if he was claiming you as kin before you even had a chance to understand what was happening. You could barely move, trapped in his gaze, in the suffocating air thick with tension. And then there was the mention of "family."

Family?

Your mind scrambled to understand the connection. What the hell did Hoseok have to do with Jungkook? Was this some business partner? Some associate? And then you remembered the stories—Jung Hoseok, the name whispered in the same breath as the Jung family distilleries, their illegal dealings. Alcohol, drugs, money, power... and whatever the hell was happening behind the scenes that you didn’t even begin to comprehend.

Jungkook’s hand clenched around yours, his body rigid as if daring you to question his actions. But you already knew—there was no room for questions here. No room for defiance. No room for anything other than what he allowed.

You felt a shiver race up your spine as Mrs. Jung—Princess—smiled sadly, her eyes flicking between you and Jungkook. She tilted her head, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to close in. Her eyes held something unsettling—empathy, maybe, but also something darker. She wasn’t looking at you with pity; it felt more like an understanding of the kind of life you were being thrust into. A life you couldn’t escape from, no matter how hard you tried.

Her smile deepened, but the sadness never left her eyes.

"I hope you’re adjusting well," she said softly, her voice carrying an air of familiarity, but it was cold beneath the sweetness. "It’s a big change, isn’t it?"

Her words were innocent on the surface, but you knew better. They were a reminder of the power dynamic at play here, a subtle reaffirmation of your place in their world. You were still the outsider, and no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you were still under their watch, under their control. No freedom would ever be guaranteed.

Jungkook’s hand tightened around yours, the possessive pressure grounding you back in the moment. His gaze flicked from Mrs. Jung to Hoseok and then to you, an unreadable look passing across his face. He was silent for a moment, but the tension between the four of you was palpable, almost suffocating.

"Do you think you’ll make it to the Christmas gathering, Kook?" Hoseok asked, his voice smooth, his eyes glinting between you and him. As if he were asking whether you are ready to be part of the family.

His eyes darted to you, as if measuring whether or not you would speak, or even if you would understand what was actually happening.

"I’m not sure, Hyung," Jungkook finally answered, his voice colder than it had been moments ago. His grip on your hand remained firm, a silent warning that nothing about this encounter was casual, nor were any of you truly free.

"We’ll see."

Hoseok chuckled softly, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms as if the conversation were some kind of game to him—one where he already knew the outcome. The tension was suffocating. Every word, every gesture was an unspoken measure of who had the power and who had none.

"Well," Hoseok continued, "I’m sure we’ll all be expecting you there. It’s a family affair, after all. Wouldn’t want anyone to feel... excluded." He gave a small nod, and the implication wasn’t lost on you.

"Peaches wanted to talk to you for some time, Kook."

He visibly stiffened, his body language shifting into something more guarded. His fingers tightened around yours, the possessive grip now tinged with something darker, like a warning, a reminder of who he was and who you weren’t.

The mention of Peaches—and her connection to whatever the hell was going on—left you unsettled. Another piece of the puzzle that you didn’t understand, but felt creeping closer with every passing moment.

"Yeah, I know," was all Jungkook said. His tone brooked no argument. Who is she? What was her connection to Jungkook, and why did his entire demeanor shift the moment her name was mentioned?

Hoseok, watching the two of you closely, seemed to relish the silence that followed. He leaned in just slightly, eyes flicking between you and Jungkook, measuring something unseen. Just what is he trying to achieve?

His eyes never left Jungkook, but his words were directed at both of you. "She’s been wanting to have a chat for a while. About everything."

"Don’t worry about it, we’ll talk soon, Hyung," Jungkook finally muttered, his gaze turning toward you, softening for just a moment.

But the unease in his voice didn’t fool you. The more he avoided talking about Peaches, the more you knew there was something lurking beneath the surface. Something he was hiding. Something you weren’t meant to see. And it only made you feel more trapped.

Jungkook’s grip on your hand tightened so much that you winced, but you dared not say anything. His eyes flicked from Hoseok to Mrs. Jung, his expression unreadable. There was something cold in his gaze now, something sharp, but it was directed outward—at them.

The tension between them was palpable, an unspoken war fought with words, smiles, and a look that only people like them would understand. And then, just as quickly, the moment passed.

"Well, we won’t keep you," Hoseok said, his gaze lingering on you just a moment longer. His smile never faltered, but the weight of it made you feel small, insignificant.

"It was nice finally meeting you, Y/N."

Her name resonated in your head for a while before you gathered the courage to actually ask. There must be a reason why not one but two people had already talked to Jungkook about this Peaches. Who in the world names their child Peaches? Anyway, the way his demeanor shifted at the mention of her name left you with more questions than answers. You did not know why. This should not bother you at all.

Despite Jungkook’s attempts to reassure you that nothing was going to change, the nagging feeling of being kept in the dark gnawed at you. You had become part of his world, yet there were so many aspects of it that remained a mystery. Who exactly is Jeon Jungkook if not a popular heartthrob of this generation?

One evening, as you sat in the penthouse, the silence was interrupted by the soft strains of a piano melody drifting through the space. Jungkook was at the grand piano, his fingers gliding over the keys with a grace that belied the tension that seemed to have settled over him. You watched him for a moment, the music a temporary balm to the unease that had been building between you.

Taking a deep breath, you decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. "Jungkook," you called softly, walking over to where he sat. He looked up, his expression guarded but not unkind. You did not really express any affections towards him as of late. And apparently, he was giving you space to come to him yourself. How generous after what he has done to keep you here.

"Yeah, baby?"

You took a seat beside him on the piano bench, your fingers lightly brushing the keys. You sighed loudly because you couldn't believe you were actually going to ask him that.

"Who is Peaches?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly. More from embarrassment than fear of his reaction. Jungkook’s expression shifted, a playful glint appearing in his eyes.

"Hm, someone sounds jealous?" he asked, his tone light and teasing. Obviously, that was the first thing he was going to ask.

You flushed, feeling your cheeks heat up at his question. "No, I’m not jealous," you retorted quickly, but the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. Were you not?

Jungkook’s grin widened, and he leaned closer, his face just inches from yours. "Oh, really?" he murmured, his voice low and mischievous.

"Because it sounds like you might be a little bit jealous." You turned your head away, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping up your neck, interplaying with frustration that was very much successfully toned down by the number of pills you’d taken this morning.

"I could not give a flying fuck, Jungkook, I’m just curious."

"A flying fuck, huh?" he repeated, his tone laced with amusement. Jungkook chuckled, the sound low and rich, his breath warm against your cheek.

He reached out and gently turned your face back to him, his fingers light on your chin.

"Peaches is Kim Namjoon’s fiancée," his tone softening but the amusement still present in his eyes. You could feel the tension in his fingers as he held your chin, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. And you could also not miss how the little ball of nerves you had in your chest suddenly evaporated.

You blinked, trying to process the information. "Namjoon’s fiancée?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. You knew Namjoon as the man next to Jungkook in the majority of the photographs he had hanging up, and you recall him talking about this Namjoon even before you got yourself into this situation. Jungkook looked up to Namjoon. The name carried weight, and you could see why Jungkook might be protective over such a significant part of his and his family’s life.

"I saved her life."

His words hung in the air, adding another layer to the mystery surrounding Jungkook and the world he was a part of.

"You saved her life?" you repeated, your voice softening. The weight of his words began to sink in, and you could see the depth of his connection to this woman named Peaches.

Jungkook nodded, his fingers still gently holding your chin. "Yeah, I did," he said quietly.

"H…how?" He seemed to be weighing his words carefully, the playful glint in his eyes dimming slightly. It was obvious. He wouldn’t tell you.

"I’m not sure you’re ready to know all of it at once," he said gently, his thumb brushing your skin. "But what you need to understand is that everything I’ve done, everything I’m doing, is for the good of the family."

"Are you like…Hoseok?" you asked, your voice wavering just slightly as you tried to make sense of everything. Jungkook leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he processed your question. He tilted his head, almost as if he were weighing your words. His fingers, which had been so tender on your chin, slowly slipped away, leaving a cool emptiness behind.

"Depends on who you think Hoseok is?" he replied, his voice light, but there was an underlying edge to it—a hint of something he wasn’t quite ready to share. You frowned, not fully understanding.

"Everybody knows who he is, Gguk." Jungkook’s lips curled into a small, amused smile at your bluntness. The nickname "Gguk" rolled off your tongue like it had been there all along, and for a brief moment, his usual playful demeanor flickered back, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His gaze softened just a little, but the weight of the conversation hung heavy between you.

"He’s mafio—"

"Yeah, I know what everyone thinks.." Jungkook’s lips quirked into that familiar smile, but this time it was tinged with something a little darker.

"You think Hoseok’s just some dangerous guy who gets his hands dirty, but it’s more than that. It’s about belonging."

"It’s not all suits and guns and power plays. There’s a whole other side to it—" he continued. You tilted your head, not sure if you were entirely following what he was saying.

"Jungkook, I thought you were a goddamn heart-crushing pop-star." He laughed.

"I’ve been everything the world thinks I am, but that’s not all."

"But… you’re not like Hoseok, though, right?" you asked, needing reassurance that he wasn’t too far gone. Jungkook’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his fingers now tracing small patterns on the back of your hand.

"No, I’m just a heart-crushing popstar," he said finally, his voice amused.

"I am still very much part of the family though,—"

"You’re part of it now too. Whether you like it or not. And I’ll protect you. I’ll make sure you’re safe."

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache. You wanted to believe him. You needed to believe him. But the weight of the world he was offering you was far heavier than you had imagined.

"That’s how we roll."

His fingers continued their slow, deliberate tracing on your hand, a reminder that he had all the control here. You pulled your hand away from his, shaking your head, your chest tightening as you tried to keep your emotions in check. He looked confused for a moment and undoubtedly started to question whether you’d taken your medication or found a way to sneak past his watchful eye.

"You’ll understand why eventually," he murmured, his voice low and sure, as if he were speaking a truth you weren’t yet ready to hear.

And then, before you could say another word, his lips were on yours again—slow, but with a possessiveness that sent a shiver through you. It was suffocating in its intensity, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, trapped in the haze of his touch, the drug in your system, the desperate need to find some kind of relief. To feel something else rather than the empty numbness of your brain.

The medication, the constant monitoring, the suffocating feeling of being trapped in your own mind—it all faded into the background as Jungkook's kiss deepened, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips, sending sparks of sensation through your numbness. You felt yourself getting lost in the intensity of the moment, your hands rising to grasp his shoulders, pulling him closer as if trying to anchor yourself to something, anything, that felt real.

The possessiveness in his kiss was almost palpable, a reminder that he was in control, and yet, you couldn't bring yourself to care, too caught up in the desperation to feel something, anything, that wasn't the dull, hollow ache of your own emptiness.

Your thighs spread wide as you settled onto his lap, the hardness of his erection pressing against your core, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

You did not stay in this state of mind for too long though.

"I don’t want this Jungkook."

Jungkook's kiss paused for a fraction of a second, the softness in his movements turning sharper, as if the words you spoke were a challenge, one he wasn’t ready to hear. His breath was heavy, his chest rising and falling with the rapid rhythm of his pulse. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense, like he was searching for something—an answer, an explanation, perhaps even your submission.

"You don’t want this?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying sharpness to it, a hint of disbelief. His thumb brushed lightly across your bottom lip, his touch almost possessive, as if claiming that too.

"I…I don’t know." The confusion in your words only seemed to fuel something inside him—a deepening desire, a need to pull you even closer, to make you feel as though you were already lost to him.

His hands roamed, shifting to your back, pulling you against him with a force that made your heart race, your breath hitch. He was strong, too strong, and as much as you wanted to push him away, your body—distant, clouded by the drugs, the numbness—reacted to him, betraying the words that your mind screamed.

"You can fight this all you want," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shudder through your body. "But you know you're mine, Y/N. I’m not letting you go. Not now, not ever."

You tried to focus on your words, the ones that should matter. "I don’t want this, Jungkook," you repeated, your voice weak, and yet, something in your chest tightened. The longing for freedom, for a way out, collided with the dull pull of your body’s response to him. It felt as though you were suffocating between two opposing forces—one part of you screaming to break free, the other part craving the warmth he was offering, even if it was twisted.

"Hey, look at me, baby," Jungkook’s gaze softened, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The heat in them was still there, darker, more intense, as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

The drugs were fogging your mind, the reality of what was happening slipping away like sand through your fingers. You felt his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you even closer, the pressure building between you both, and yet, a small voice in the back of your mind screamed no. It screamed that this wasn’t right, that you were more than this moment, but the drugs and his kiss drowned it out, and all you could do was let yourself be consumed by him.

"This is happening. This is us." His voice was firm, steady, and with each word, the finality of his claim echoed between you both.

You wanted to push him away. You wanted to tell him to stop, to make him understand how wrong this was, but your body betrayed you, too caught in the haze of his touch, his kiss, the overwhelming pull of his presence. You closed your eyes, trying to block out the sensations, trying to escape into the numbness that you had once sought.

But Jungkook wouldn’t let you. His fingers slid to your jaw, guiding your face back to his as his lips found yours once more. This kiss was different—it was hungry, possessive, the kind that felt like a demand rather than a plea. You could feel him pressing against you, his desire unmistakable in the hardness of his body, and it was suffocating, consuming you in ways you didn’t know you could be consumed.

He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, his chest still rising and falling beneath yours. "You don’t want this now, but you will," he said softly, his voice full of certainty. "You’ll see. You’ll understand at the end,—I’ll make you understand."

The intensity of his gaze held you captive, the world outside this moment blurring into insignificance.

"Jungkook…" you whispered, your voice trembling. The fear, the confusion, the longing—they all mingled into a desperate plea for something you couldn’t quite name.

His eyes softened, but the possessiveness never left. "You’re mine," he repeated, his voice a low, soothing murmur. "I’ll protect you. I’ll keep you safe. But you have to trust me, Y/N–"

"You have to let me in."

You looked down at your mug, swirling the mulled wine as you gathered your thoughts. "I... I think I’m ready to go back to work," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

The change in Jungkook’s demeanor was immediate. The warmth in his eyes flickered out, replaced by something harder, colder. He set his mug down on the counter with a soft clink, his posture stiffening.

"What makes you think that?" he asked, his tone deceptively calm, but you could hear the edge beneath it. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

"I’ve been good, haven’t I?"

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied you, the tension between you palpable. He took a step closer, his presence imposing. "You have," he admitted, his voice low and measured. "But that doesn’t mean you’re ready to go back out there."

You felt a pang of frustration, but you tried to keep your voice steady. "I need to feel normal again, Jungkook. I need to get out of here, to do something meaningful."

His jaw tightened, and he reached out, gently but firmly taking the mug from your hands and setting it aside. His fingers lingered on your wrist for a moment, his touch both comforting and possessive. "This is meaningful," he said, his voice softening just a fraction as he looked into your eyes. "Us, here, together. This is your life now, Y/N."

"But..but you promised." Jungkook's expression flickered, a brief moment of conflict passing through his eyes before his gaze hardened again. He took a deep breath, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly as he processed your words.

"I promised to keep you safe," he said, his voice firm but with an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite identify—fear, perhaps, or desperation. "And letting you go back to work... it's not safe for you now, Y/N."

You pulled your wrist free, taking a step back to create some distance. "I can’t stay cooped up in here forever, Jungkook," you said, your voice trembling but determined. "I need to feel like myself again. I need to be around people, to do something other than just exist in this penthouse."

He took a step closer, his hands reaching out to cup your face, his touch gentle but his eyes intense. "You are my life now," he said softly, his voice breaking slightly. "And I can’t lose you. Not to anything or anyone." You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch despite the turmoil inside you. Jungkook’s thumb brushed over your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Freedom comes with risks, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of love and possessiveness. "And I’m not sure I can handle those risks."

"I promise I am not plotting, Gguk—" you began, but Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, his grip on your face tightening ever so slightly.

"Are you not?" he cut in, his voice low and dangerous. The hint of desperation from before was now replaced with a cold, steely resolve.

"Just give me a chance to prove—" His eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of deceit.

"I don’t know if I can trust that, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with an unsettling mix of love and possessiveness. He was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tight with tension. Finally, he let out a slow breath, his grip on your face softening.

"We have the family dinner coming up. It’s important, and everyone will be there. If you can behave, show that you can handle yourself around my family, then maybe... just maybe, we can talk about you going back to work."

The implication of his words settled over you like a weight. This wasn’t just about proving yourself to him; it was about proving yourself to his entire family. The thought was daunting, but you knew this might be your only chance. To get away from his grasp.

"I’ll do my best," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of determination and anxiety. "I promise."

A small, almost tender smile tugged at the corners of Jungkook’s lips. "Good," he said softly.

You swallowed hard, the pressure of the upcoming dinner weighing heavily on you. "Who will be there?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Everyone," he said simply. "My parents, all of my Hyungs... among whom someone can offer you a position if you make a good impression."

This was your chance, and you had to take it.

"I’ll be on my best behaviour," you promised, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

You stood there in Jungkook’s arms, the Christmas lights twinkling softly around you, you resolved to do whatever it took to reclaim a part of your life.

"Now, show me how good you can warm my cock this Christmas."

His murmured words were low and commanding. You swallowed hard, your mind racing as you tried to process what he was asking of you. This wasn’t the first time he implied that he wanted you to drop down there. He was obsessed with your body and how obedient it became when you had the right amount of pills and alcohol in your system. You both could deal with detox once you realized that there was no different route in your life but him. That was his plan all along.

You could smell the mulled wine on his breath, and it only added to the sense of unease growing inside you. He reached out a hand and gently stroked your cheek, his touch sending a wave of revulsion through your body.

As the flames danced in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over the room, Jungkook's eyes locked onto yours, his gaze burning with a fierce intensity. He reached out and gently stroked your hair, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. Without a word, he guided you to your knees, his eyes never leaving yours. Quick flashbacks ran through your mind from the last time he did that. Normally, fear would take you down or push you to protest. Not anymore. He made you his doll. At least partially.

As his hands closed around yours, he gently guided them to his sweatpants, his eyes locked onto yours with a spark of excitement. You felt a rush of anticipation as your hands made contact with the soft fabric, and Jungkook's eyes seemed to gleam with a knowing light.

He urged your hands to explore, to delve beneath the waistband and discover the secrets that lay hidden beneath. Your fingers trembled slightly as you complied, slipping beneath the fabric to find the warm, smooth skin. Jungkook's eyes fluttered closed, and a low, husky moan escaped his lips as your hands made contact with his flesh. His hips seemed to arch into your touch.

Your fingers wrapped around him, feeling the warmth and the hardness.

Jungkook's eyes snapped open, and he gazed at you with a fierce intensity, his pupils dilated with desire. "Yes," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own ragged breathing. "Like that. Just like that."

You could imagine that this was your high school boyfriend. You for sure loved him back then. Because now you have to suck and fuck that man like you mean it if you want out.

Your lips made contact with the warm, smooth skin of his cock, and Jungkook's eyes fluttered closed, a low, husky moan escaping his lips. You began to suck, your mouth wrapping around him like a warm, wet glove. Jungkook slightly moved his hips against you, inviting you to take more, to suck him deeper.

You felt his hands tangling in your hair, holding you in place as you worked to please him. The sound of his breathing, the feel of his heat, and the taste of his skin is nothing new for you anymore, and you desperately wish you never got the taste of him.

Jungkook's moans grew louder, and his hips began to move, thrusting gently into your mouth. You felt him growing closer and closer to the edge, and you knew that you were driving him wild. Your mouth moved up and down, sucking and licking, as Jungkook's cock grew harder and thicker. You felt his precum dripping onto your tongue, and you knew that he was close to coming.

Jungkook's hands tightened in your hair, holding you in place as he began to thrust faster, his hips moving in a rapid, piston-like motion. You felt his cock hitting the back of your throat. His body tensed when he pulled your wet mouth from his cock just in time, his cock still throbbing with desire. His chest heaved with exertion, his breathing ragged as he gazed at you with a hungry look in his eyes.

Without a word, Jungkook reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you to your feet. He spun you around, pressing your back against the wall next to the Christmas tree as he loomed over you.

You felt his hot breath on your skin, his lips inches from yours as he whispered, "I'm not done with you yet." His hands roamed over your body, stripping away your clothes with a fierce urgency.

Jungkook's eyes devoured you, his gaze lingering on every curve and contour of your body. You felt his hot breath on your skin, his lips inches from yours, as he whispered, "Mhm, I’m gonna fuck you so hard and nice—" his hands continued to strip away your clothes, leaving you naked and exposed before him.

Jungkook's hands grasped your hips, lifting you up as he slammed you against the wall. But instead of thrusting into you, he paused, his eyes locked on yours as he whispered,

"I want to savor you, to taste every inch of your skin."

Jungkook's lips crashed down on yours, his tongue invading your mouth as he kissed you with a fierce, possessive passion. You felt yourself getting lost in the sensation, your body responding to his touch as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth.

As he kissed you, Jungkook's hands began to roam over your body, touching, caressing, and claiming you as his own. His fingers trailed down your neck, over your shoulders, and down to your breasts, where he cupped them in his hands, his thumbs tracing circles around your nipples.

His lips left yours, and he trailed kisses down your neck, over your shoulders, and down to your breasts, where he sucked your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around them in a sensual dance. His fingers continued tracing down your stomach, over your hips, and down to your thighs, where he parted them with his hands, his fingers brushing against your entrance, spreading your lips wide and finding very little of wetness.

His brows furrowed in concern, and he lifted his head from your breasts, his eyes locking onto yours with a questioning gaze.

For a moment, he simply looked at you, his chest heaving with exertion, his lips still wet from kissing your breasts. Then, his face softened, and he whispered, "Do you want me to stop?" His voice was low and husky, but laced with a hint of uncertainty.

Was he testing you?

The Christmas tree lights twinkled in the background, casting a warm glow over the scene. The soft hum of the lights and the quiet beat of Jungkook's chest rising and falling with each breath were the only sounds in the room.

What are you going to do now?

It was not uncommon for someone on such medication as yours to have trouble with dampness down there. Even when the excitement might be there, waterfalls weren’t.

"It's just the medication…" Jungkook's expression turned serious, and he kissed your forehead tenderly.

"I know, baby," he said softly. "We'll go slow. We don't have to rush anything."

He shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that he could hold you more comfortably. As Jungkook held you, his hands moved slowly, caressing your back and sides with a gentle touch. How? Why? Where is the Jungkook who forced you down on your knees and fucked your throat until you cried?

The contrast between the Jungkook who was now so gentle and the one who had been so forceful left you bewildered. His tenderness felt alien, almost as if he were a different person. You couldn't help but wonder if this was just another side of his complex personality, a side he was showing now to keep you close, to make you feel safe.

"Why are you being so gentle with me?" you whispered, unable to keep the question to yourself any longer.

Jungkook paused, his eyes searching yours. "Because I love you," he said simply, as if that explained everything. "I want you to feel safe with me, Y/N. I want you to trust me."

You felt a lump form in your throat, the words catching you off guard. Trust. It was such a fragile thing, something that had been shattered and mended too many times. Could you really trust him? This could simply be another foul play.

Jungkook's gaze softened, and he cupped your face in his hands. "I know I've been rough with you, baby. I know I've scared you. But I need you to understand that everything I do, I do because I can't bear the thought of losing you. You're my everything, Y/N."

"I need to feel like I can breathe." You whispered, bare and vulnerable.

"I can give you that," he said, his voice steady. "But you have to promise me something."

"What is it?" you asked, your heart pounding.

"Promise me that you won’t leave me, baby," he said, his grip on your face tightening slightly.

"I won’t," you replied, your voice trembling at the thought. But your answer was rather enigmatic, and his brain opted to process it the way he wanted and not the way you meant it. You won’t. You won’t promise that.

Slowly, his grip on your face relaxed, and he let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. "Good," he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. "Because I can’t live without you."

He kissed you softly, his lips lingering on yours, and you responded as best you could, trying to convey the mix of emotions swirling inside you. It was almost disorienting, this gentleness from a man who had shown you such brutality.

"I want you," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "I want to be inside you, to feel you wrapped around me." He paused, his gaze never leaving yours. "But I don't want to hurt you. I want to make it good for you."

"Just like the last time." He smirked, recalling all your dirty juice on his body and bed once you came undone the first time he claimed you as his.

He took a step back, his eyes still locked on yours, and nodded to himself. "I'll be right back," he said, turning and walking away.

You watched him go, wondering what he was doing. But then you heard him rummaging through a drawer, and you realized what he was looking for. He returned with a small bottle of lube, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I want to make sure you're ready for me," he said, his voice low and gentle. "I want to make sure you can take my big cock into your tiny hole." He moaned at the thought of being inside you again.

"I can’t hold back, baby. I'm going to fuck you good until you can’t walk."

He poured some lube onto his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours as he climbed on top of you. You felt him touch you, his fingers slipping between your lower lips, spreading them with his two fingers apart and caressing each side, making you breathe loudly. You gasped, feeling a spark of pleasure ignite within you, just a little. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to coax your body into a state of complete surrender.

The warmth of his hands seeped into your skin, spreading a comforting heat that eased the tension from your muscles. Every stroke, every caress, was a reminder of his dominance, yet also of his desire to please you.

His fingers moved with a rhythm, slow and deliberate, exploring every inch of your sensitive flesh. He started with light, teasing touches, barely grazing your skin, before gradually increasing the pressure. You felt a fluttering sensation in your lower abdomen, a mix of anticipation and need. Your breath hitched, and you let out a soft moan, encouraging him to continue.

You were feeling something after such a long time of numbness. He made you forget about how sore your muscles were every morning, how tired you woke up even though you slept for more than eight hours, and how you emptied your stomach now and then because the drugs made you nauseous.

He whispered soothing words, his voice a low murmur that vibrated against your skin. "That's it, baby," he said, his breath warm against your ear. "Just relax. Let me take care of you."

His fingers moved with an intimate knowledge of your body, finding all the right spots inside you to make you gasp and writhe beneath him. He took his time, not rushing, making sure you were fully prepared, fully aware of every sensation.

His lips hovered over yours, eyes locked onto yours. Slowly, his lips descended, brushing against yours in a gentle, teasing caress.

"You are such a good girl for me." His fingers continued to move, stroking and teasing, building the tension inside you. You felt his hands moving, positioning you the way he wanted when an idea struck your brain. This is it. He will think that you’re finally falling in line, that you are content living by his side, and eventually showing him some love he is forcing from you. You decided to use this moment to your advantage, to make him believe you were giving in, that you were starting to accept your place by his side.

You clung to him, as if seeking more of his touch, more of his warmth.

"Jungkook," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of genuine arousal and calculated submission.

"I wanna ride you."

His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise quickly replaced by a dark, eager gleam. You would pay to see that micro-mimic again. He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that made your heart race.

"Oh, do you now, baby?" he murmured, his voice low and filled with anticipation.

You nodded, maintaining eye contact, letting him see the sincerity in your gaze.

"Yes, please."

Without another word, Jungkook shifted, guiding you to straddle his lap. His hands moved to your hips, his grip firm but not painful, holding you steady as you settled yourself over him. The feel of his erection pressing against you sent a shiver of anticipation through your body.

"Take your time," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I want to feel every inch of you."

You bit your lip, lowering yourself slowly, savoring the feeling of him filling you. He let out a low groan, his fingers tightening on your hips as you took him in, inch by inch. The connection between you felt almost electric, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

Once you were fully seated, you paused, giving yourself a moment to adjust. He felt even bigger now that your arousal was half artificial. Jungkook's eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

"Good girl," he whispered, his voice thick with arousal. "You feel so good."

You began to move, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles. Jungkook's hands roamed your body, caressing your back, your breasts, your thighs, as if he couldn't get enough of touching you.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. "So fucking perfect."

You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. His lips were soft yet demanding, moving against yours with a fervor that matched the rhythm of your hips. You could taste the lingering sweetness of mulled wine on his tongue as it slipped into your mouth, exploring and claiming.

As you bounced on him, your movements became more urgent, driven by the growing need that coursed through your veins. You were getting riled up. You knew you wouldn't cum. At least not like before.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, your forehead resting against his. "Jungkook," you moaned, your voice trembling with need. "I need you."

Jungkook's hands moved to your hips, guiding you, urging you to move faster, harder. The friction between you was exquisite, each movement sending waves of pleasure through your body. His kisses grew more desperate, more demanding.

"I'm right here, baby," he groaned, his hands tightening on your hips, his own need evident in the way his body moved against yours. "You're doing so well. Keep going."

You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the rhythm, the sensation of his body against yours. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the soft hum of the Christmas lights, and the quiet creak of the couch under you.

You glanced down where your pussy swallowed his cock, noticing the bulge in your belly growing each time you slumped down on his cock.

"Cum for me, baby," Jungkook whispered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "I want to feel you."

You shook your head slightly, the frustration and the numbness from the medication making it difficult to reach the peak you both desired. "I... I can't," you gasped, feeling the tears of frustration prickling at the corners of your eyes.

"Yeah, you do, baby. I know you can." Jungkook's voice was firm but encouraging, his hands guiding your hips as he increased the intensity of his movements.

He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. His thumb found your clit, rubbing gentle but insistent circles that sent jolts of pleasure through your body. The combination of his relentless thrusts and the skilled motion of his thumb began to break through the fog of numbness.

"Just focus on me," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "Feel every touch, every movement. You're so close, baby. I can feel it."

You let out a soft whimper, your body responding despite the numbness. The tension inside you began to build again, each touch, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. Jungkook's presence, his voice, his touch, all combined to draw you closer to the edge.

"Come on, baby," he urged, his voice thick with arousal. "You're so beautiful like this, so perfect. Let go for me. I know you can."

You closed your eyes, focusing on the sensations, on the heat of his body against yours, the rhythm of his movements. The frustration began to ebb away, replaced by a growing need, a desire to reach that peak, to give him what he wanted.

"That's it," Jungkook whispered, his voice a mix of encouragement and command.

You could feel the tension coiling inside you, tighter and tighter, until it was almost unbearable. But the finish line not close at all. You could feel the pleasure building, but it was like reaching for something just out of your grasp.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. A little drop of sweat rolling down your forehead. You knew you had to come somehow or this wouldn't stop. He wouldn't let you go, he would know if you faked it right away.

You forced yourself to concentrate on his touch, on the rhythm of his movements, on the sound of his voice. You felt the tension coiling tighter inside you, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. Jungkook's relentless pace, the way he filled you so completely, the firm circles his thumb traced over your sensitive spot.

"Jungkook," you gasped, your voice trembling with need and desperation. He leaned in to take one of your nipples into his mouth, his thumb moving faster against your clit, his thrusts deep and steady. You bit your lip, trying to channel all your focus into the sensations he was creating.

With a final, desperate cry, you felt the coil inside you snap. Your body convulsed around him, your muscles clenching and releasing in a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart. Jungkook held you through it, his movements never faltering as he guided you through your release.

The aftershocks of your orgasm slowly receded; after all, it felt like you only edged hard instead of cumming but that was good enough for you to moan his name and shake for him to be sated.

You collapsed against him, your body spent, your mind hazy. Jungkook followed you over the edge, his own release shuddering through him as he buried himself deep inside you. He held you close, his breath warm against your neck, his heart beating in time with yours.

"You did so well," he murmured, his voice filled with pride and affection. "So perfect for me."

For now, that was enough.

Enough for him to give him hope that you are his and he is yours.

The church bells rang out a somber melody as you and Jungkook stepped inside the grand cathedral. The last time you were here was when you told your parents you didn't get accepted to MIT for neuroscience as they wanted. Instead, you had announced your desire to pursue a career in the fashion industry. You still remembered their horrified faces.

Jungkook’s grip on your hand was firm but gentle as he guided you to a seat near the front. Garlands of evergreen and red ribbons decorated the aisles, reflecting the deep religious commitment of Jungkook’s family. Yours believed in science, and if you went to church, it was only for the image it gave your parents. But Jungkook insisted that you, as in you and him, cannot skip the service. It’s a no-no in the family.

Seeing Jungkook in something so not hipster or at least, fuck boy like, made you re-think just how much he had grown as a person without you ever noticing. The crisp white shirt tucked neatly into his tailored black slacks, a perfect striped suit jacket on top, tie underneath, all Bloomingdale, you took a mental note. The hint of cologne that wafted every time he moved made him look almost unrecognizable compared to the tattooed, oversized-hoodie-wearing Jungkook you first met and it made you wonder when did you start seeing him as a helpless heartthrob. Gone was the boy and instead there was this stand-up guy holding your hand.

You settled into the wooden pew once the priest began the service with a deep, resonant voice. You tried to focus on the words, on the serenity of the moment, but your mind kept drifting to the upcoming dinner. This had to be the performance of your lifetime. But you have to try to endure words that have no meaning to you or your soul while you wait for the innocent naivety of distant future’s mothers and fathers, lawyers and doctors, or good people and vigilantes, in the form of a child choir, to start singing.

You spotted Hoseok and what looked like Kim Namjoon with, you assumed, Peaches, nearing your seats. Jungkook's grip tightened slightly, a silent signal that he was aware of their approach. He was scared you’d run away, that you’d ruin everything. He was right to be scared. To ruin their family Christmas might be on your Grinch wishlist, but you would be the most obedient woman on the planet if you had to. Because that meant, you had a chance of getting out of that ugly block of a tall building more than once a month when you begged for it. How you’d get rid of your "boyfriend," that was a story for another day.

While the service continued, you felt a hand slip into yours, warm and reassuring. You looked up to see Peaches smiling gently at you, her curly blonde hair framing her full face, and her eyes filled with quiet strength. She was wearing Versaci’s black slit medallion dress that you thought there is no way to get after the 94’ movie showgirls. But she has them, and a what seemed to be a very nice fur coat draped over her shoulders.

She was quite the beauty, and your brain immediately imagined her on a runway. Although she was rather petite next to a man like Kim Namjoon. She squeezed your hand lightly, a silent gesture of support. It was comforting, and for a moment, you felt a small spark of hope.

"Hi," she said quietly, and at that moment, you couldn’t hate her like you hated the rest of them.

"Hi," you whispered back, offering a small, tentative smile. Her presence was unexpectedly soothing, a reminder that there might be allies or at least people who sympathized. But mere sympathy wouldn’t help you get out of this arrangement.

Jungkook noticed the exchange, his eyes softening slightly, though his grip on your hand remained firm. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "You’re doing great," he murmured, his voice low and encouraging. "Just a little longer."

Hymns filled the air, and the congregation joined in with reverence. You tried to let the music and the surroundings wash over you, to find some peace in the chaos of your mind. Peaches’ hand in yours was a constant source of comfort, a silent promise that you weren’t completely alone in this.

The service drew to a close. The priest offered a final blessing, and the congregation began to disperse. Jungkook helped you to your feet, his hand never leaving yours.

"Good to see you both," Hoseok greeted, his smile genuine but his eyes sharp. "Are you ready for the dinner tonight?"

Jungkook nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "Yeah, we’ll be there. But we’re stopping by my parents’ house first."

Namjoon glanced at Peaches, whose movements showed pain once she stood up. Nonetheless, she gave you a reassuring smile.

"We’ll see you there," he said, his voice calm and composed.

As you walked out of the cathedral, Peaches leaned in and whispered, "Don’t let them get into your head."

Her words resonated with you as you made your way to the car. Jungkook’s parents' house was your next destination, and you knew you had to maintain your composure. This was your chance to prove yourself and eventually free yourself.

Jungkook’s family home was grand and imposing, decorated lavishly for the holiday season.

You took a deep breath as you stepped out of the car, Jungkook by your side. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before leading you to the front door.

The door swung open before you could even knock, revealing Jungkook’s mother, her face lighting up with excitement. She was a petite woman with a warm smile, but her eyes were sharp and assessing.

"Jungkook, darling!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug before turning her attention to you. "And this must be Y/N!"

She reached out and took your hands in hers, her grip surprisingly strong. "It’s so lovely to finally meet you," she said, her eyes flicking down to your fingers for a good moment before she realized that what she was looking for was not there. Her smile faltered slightly but she recovered rather quickly when she saw your confused mimics.

You forced a smile, feeling a bit overwhelmed by her forwardness. "It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Jeon."

"Aish, that’s how the staff calls me," she said with a light chuckle, waving her hand dismissively. "You call me eomma, honey."

Before you could respond, her gaze had already shifted, and she was inspecting you more closely, her hands suddenly on your shoulders, then your arms, and finally your stomach.

"You will be so pretty with a—" she began, her tone filled with genuine admiration, but her hands still firmly on your midsection.

"Eomma!" Jungkook interrupted abruptly, his voice firmer than usual. He gently but decisively moved her hands away from you. "Ya, is that a sponge cake I’m smelling?"

Mrs. Jeon blinked, momentarily thrown off, before breaking into a warm smile. "Oh, yes! I made your favorite, Ggukie-ah!" she said, her enthusiasm shifting to the mention of the cake.

The dining room was filled with people, all of whom seemed to know each other well. You felt like an outsider, but you kept a polite smile on your face, determined to make a good impression. This house, or rather mansion, was overwhelming. Tall ceilings and crystal chandeliers loomed overhead, and the mansion was beautifully decorated, with twinkling lights and elegant ornaments adorning every corner. A massive Christmas tree stood in the center of the hall you passed on your way, its branches heavy with decorations and presents piled high underneath. It seems that the Jungs or maybe this whole family is rather obsessed just as much with crystal as it is with kidnapping women.

Jungkook introduced you to everyone you didn’t know, his grip on your hand never faltering. As you sat down at the long, elegant table, you noticed a blonde man watching you from across the room. His name was Park Jimin, and you knew exactly who he was.

A goddamn chairman of Dior looking at you and your little black dress Jungkook insisted you will wear. It was a gift, from whom he did not say. And your heart could not reject such a fine piece. 1947 Christian Dior, a classic embodiment of the fifties shape. You loved them, and your selfishness could not choose to not wear them. Jungkook was not bluffing when he said someone who could give you the job would be here after all.

The shocked look Jungkook noticed on your face when he introduced you to Jimin was much more evident than you intended it to be. He gave you a reassuring nod, and you took a deep breath, ready to face whatever came next.

"So, Y/N, how did you and Jungkook meet?" Hoseok’s voice raised above the murmur of conversation once the tightest circle settled around the table. Among what they refer to them as the elders. Parents, and other relatives. The previous generation you may call them, and judging by the greyness of some of their hair, even the one before. Jungkook did lend you to them to answer some, rather, traditional remarks that you tried not to let rot in your brain.

Oh dear, what a beauty you are, surely your children will be as beautiful. You look like a perfect match. You have such a kind face, dear. I'm sure you'll make a wonderful wife and mother.

Among which is the how you and Jungkook met.

This question was no different in the message it was sending.

His question was casual, but you sensed the curiosity behind it. His wife was sitting next to him and on the other side, none other than Namjoon and Peaches, followed by Seokjin, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jimin. It looked almost biblical, this kind of hierarchy.

You smiled, trying to appear as natural as possible. You know he knew, every single person in this room knew that he knew but he asked anyway. His wife nudged him gently to stop prying, but he did not pay her more mind than putting his palm on her swollen belly.

"We met through work on Klein’s campaign," you began, your voice steady despite the pressure. They were waiting for you to slip up so they could eat you alive like hungry wolves.

Peaches smiled warmly, her hand resting on Namjoon's. You arched your brows at her demeanor as you could not quite place the state of her mind when it comes to, you know, all this.

Jungkook squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with pride.

"Ah, the Klein campaign," Seokjin said, his tone light but his eyes sharp. "That was quite a project, wasn't it? Jungkook mentioned how pivotal your role was."

Kim Seokjin is a lawyer. And a goddamn good one. The man would get you out of the death penalty and that’s maybe why Hoseok is keeping him close. At least, that’s what you heard. Each and one of them is somehow valuable to the infrastructure you don’t have the right to glimpse into, just yet. But how Jungkook falls into this scheme remains unknown.

You nodded, maintaining your composure. Breathing in and trying to ignore what his words were suggesting.

"Yes, it was a significant project. We both put a lot of effort into it."

"Effort, indeed," Yoongi chimed in, his voice low and smooth. You could not overlook the undertone. Jungkook narrowed his eyes at his oldest Hyungs, not quite understanding what they were trying to do. And here you thought he asked them to test you. You felt your cheeks heat up, the scrutiny intensifying.

Hoseok's wife, sensing the tension, tried to steer the conversation into something more—

"I loved the collection. Gguk is one hot motherfucker, cannot lie with that one."

You would not know how to call this kind of linguistic expression but, it seems, it worked.

Laughter erupted around the table, the tension easing slightly. Jungkook blushed at her comment, scratching the back of his head.

"Thanks, noona," he mumbled, clearly embarrassed but also grateful for the lighter mood.

Namjoon, ever the diplomat, leaned forward with a curious expression. "Y/N, what was the most challenging part of the Klein campaign for you?"

And now this started to seem like an interview. But for what? The job you were hunting for let's see if you can handle this family interview. You are trying to convince yourself that someone like Kim Namjoon cannot be this incredibly dull because he’s only testing how you’re going to behave. How do you know your way with words as this family needs to keep appearances.

You heard bits and pieces that you are now able to connect, at least a little. Jungkook was not in your imaginary map of this empire that people talk about in hushed voices. You were never that interested; you just wanted to keep doing what you love and have a roof over your head. Now you gotta do a lot more than just mind your business if you wanna stay in the line of your work.

Why?

Because you bloody want to.

You bloody want to reach the toppiest top of tops in the fashion industry as a designer. Even after all of this. You still want that; otherwise, you’d perish already. This dream of yours proved to be a conflict of interest not only in your head but also in this family.

To be or not to be, that is the question.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of all eyes on you.

"Jeon Jungkook."

You said that with a somewhat strange lightness in your voice. Jungkook choked a little on his wine and Taehyung, who sat opposite him, gave him an exclusive view of his mischief grin, his tongue darting out to touch his upper teeth.

Another set of laughter erupted around the table. Jungkook, still recovering from his mini-choking incident, chuckled and squeezed your hand. And it was in that moment, amidst the laughter and warmth of this, let’s say, unconventional family, that you felt a sense of belonging you had never experienced before. Growing up, warmth and familial affection were foreign concepts, mere figments of your imagination. But here, with Jungkook and his family, you were starting to understand what it meant to be part of something bigger, something warm and real, and you certainly didn’t know how to feel.

People call them greedy but they prefer ambitious. Ambition, after all, is what drives us forward. Isn’t it? They weren't just a family; they were a well-oiled machine, each cog turning in perfect synchrony. Each person at the table had a role to play, a purpose that intertwined with the others.

The room seemed to close in as you sank deeper into your thoughts. The warm glow of the chandelier overhead, the laughter that felt like a distant hum in your ears, the rich aroma of food in the air—it all became background noise and your head was reeling with questions you wanted answers to.

What is it that changed within you?

The evening wore on, and it seemed Jungkook was more than pleased with you today, judging by how extremely happy he looked talking to his Hyungs. But your attention was on one person only now.

Jimin approached you during a lull in the conversation. "Can we talk for a moment?" he asked quietly. You turned your face back to Jungkook. You knew better, so you opted to ask for permission to be excused for a moment. You met Jungkook’s eyes, his expression softening slightly as he saw the silent request in yours. His gaze lingered for a moment before he gave a subtle nod, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if assuring you it was okay.

You stood up, excusing yourself politely to the group, and followed Jimin, your heart picking up its pace with every step. The air between you felt charged, as if there were unspoken words waiting to be voiced.

Once you were out of earshot from the others, Jimin led you to a quieter corner of the house, the low hum of the gathering fading into the background. His eyes met yours, and you could sense a mix of nervousness and something deeper behind them.

"I see you’ve received my gift." You glance down at the dress, fingers brushing the soft fabric.

"Thank you, Jungkook have to insist I wear them–" A small smile tugs at his lips, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. The held a quiet intensity, his usual playful demeanor replaced with something far more serious. The atmosphere around you seemed to change as he spoke, his words carrying weight.

"It’s good you’re focused on Jungkook—" his hands were paying attention to the crystal glasses he was pouring Kim’s brandy into.

"Well, it’s not like I had a choice." You stumbled awkwardly. You cannot mess this up, Y/N. You just can’t. You kept repeating to yourself that you had to, or otherwise, you’d do something Jungkook would not fancy at all.

Jimin didn’t seem to notice your discomfort as he handed you a glass of brandy, his gaze still fixed on the amber liquid swirling in his glass. "You’ve always got a choice in this family," he said, his voice low, almost too calm for the conversation you were having.

"It’s up to you if you choose wrong or right."

The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy, as Jimin’s gaze finally met yours. You took a slow breath, trying to steady the racing thoughts inside your mind. The glass of brandy in your hand suddenly felt like a weight you weren’t prepared to carry.

"What do you mean?" the words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them.

"Jungkook might not be in the center of all this—" he gestured to the lavish room you were in. This was a private office, and from what you gathered with your wandering eyes, it was Hoseok’s office.

"But he is still part of the family just like I am—" His posture relaxed, but his eyes betrayed an undercurrent of something deeper. You listened to him, gulping every word he said. "Just like you ought to be."

"He’s not just the charming guy you think he is. He’s tied to a world you don’t understand yet, and it’s not a world you can just walk away from if things go south."

For a moment, you couldn’t find your voice.

"Why are you telling me this now?" He took a long sip of his brandy, his gaze flicking briefly to the door before locking onto yours again.

"Because I need you to understand you are going nowhere if I offer you the position." The air between you thickened, and your pulse quickened as Jimin’s words sank in. You opened your mouth to respond, but your voice faltered. Jimin let out a soft sigh, the corner of his mouth curling up slightly as he leaned in, his voice lowering, now more direct.

"I need you to know that this is a goddamn privilege—" But the look in his eyes told you it wasn’t that simple.

"Women in this family do not work, they don’t have to." His voice was low and measured, but there was no mistaking the command behind his words. You slightly flinched at such an old stereotypical remark but remained silent. You can’t slip away.

The room felt smaller suddenly, the space between you shrinking with each word he spoke. You tried to steady yourself, to push past the shock and confusion that was flooding your mind, but it was difficult. And suddenly, you did not know whether you actually wanted this.

"Gguk seems to think that this will bring you two closer." His tone shifted ever so slightly, a faint edge of something you couldn’t quite name creeping into it. He wasn’t just making an observation, he was planting a seed, subtly drawing attention to something you hadn’t yet fully realized.

"So pardon me for ensuring that it fucking will."

You stood there, the glass of brandy suddenly feeling like it might slip from your hand, the weight of his words crashing over you. He leaned back slightly, his posture shifting to one that seemed more confident, more relaxed—like he was watching a show unfold and you were its central character.

"Hoseok was not pleased altogether, let me tell you that—" The silence that followed was deafening. Your mind raced, trying to process everything that had been said. Where is this leading to?

"—but if this helps you to know your place here, so be it."

"Jungkook’s not immune to the politics of this family. And neither are you," Jimin continued, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took another sip of brandy.

"So what is it you want from me?" Your voice came out stronger than you expected, but your heart was still pounding. You needed to know what he was after, what his angle was in all of this.

Jimin’s smile deepened, his eyes glinting with something unreadable.

"There you go." He mused, laughing softly.

"You can have it all,—" he said, his voice soft but cutting.

"—only if you’re willing to make the right choice."

As the evening drew to a close, you found yourself standing by the Christmas tree with Jungkook. Back at the penthouse, the lights twinkled softly, casting a warm glow over the room. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of possessiveness and affection.

"You did well tonight," he murmured, his hand gently cupping your face. "I’m very proud of you."

You smiled up at him, feeling a strange mix of emotions. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. Jungkook's fingers trailed down your cheek, pulling you closer.

"Let’s get ready for bed, or Santa won’t come and eat his cookies–" he said, his voice husky with emotion.

You smiled a little at his goofiness and nodded. He took your hand, leading you to the bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the moonlight casting silvery shadows on the floor. You could hear the distant hum of the city below. Not even on Christmas can the never-ending busyness of Manhattan be stopped.

Jungkook started undressing, his movements slow and deliberate. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the chiseled muscles of his chest and the tattoos that adorned his skin. You couldn’t help but admire the way the light played over his body, highlighting every contour and shadow.

As he turned to head to the bathroom, you slipped into the walk-in closet, needing a moment alone. The closet was a treasure trove of designer clothes, including your own designs for Klein. The scent of expensive fabrics and faint traces of perfume filled the air.

You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. Your heart raced, and your breaths came in shallow gasps. Panic gripped you, the pressure of the family’s scrutiny and the reality of your relationship with Jungkook closing in. So how are you going to stop them from getting into your head if they already planted the seeds?

You sank to the floor, surrounded by the clothes that represented your dreams and ambitions. The panic intensified, and tears welled up in your eyes. You closed them tightly, trying to calm yourself.

Breathe, Y/N. Just breathe.

You focused on your breathing, counting each inhale and exhale, trying to ground yourself. Slowly, the panic began to subside, replaced by a sense of resolve. You couldn’t afford to fall apart. Not now.

"Baby, you coming?"

Jungkook's voice filtered through the closed door, warm and concerned.

He had stood by you. The whole evening. The whole time, actually. The memory of his touch, his kiss, his… love.

You wiped your eyes quickly, taking another deep breath before standing up. The panic had subsided, leaving you with a fragile sense of calm.

You took a moment to compose yourself, looking around at the clothes that symbolized both your dreams and the immense pressure you felt. You reminded yourself why you were here, why you endured the scrutiny and the stress: because you had a vision, a goal to reach the pinnacle of the fashion industry. And now, Jungkook was a part of that journey, whether you had planned it or not.

"I want my life back," you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips.

Opening the closet door, you stepped back into the dimly lit bedroom. Jungkook was waiting by the bathroom door, his concern evident in the way he studied your face. His shirtless form was suddenly a comforting sight, his presence grounding you in the reality that he was here, supporting you.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly, closing the distance between you with a few strides.

"Yeah," you replied, forcing a smile. "Just a bit overwhelmed."

Jungkook nodded, accepting your answer but not entirely convinced. His bare skin glowed, every muscle defined and accentuated by the dim light, an embodiment of raw beauty.

"Want to wash it away?"

He took your hand, leading you into the bathroom. The steam from the shower had filled the room, creating a warm, misty atmosphere that was both soothing and intimate.

You undressed slowly, Jungkook’s eyes never leaving you. The way he looked at you, with a mix of desire and affection, made your heart race for an entirely different reason. You stepped into the shower together, the hot water cascading over your bodies, washing away the remnants of the evening’s tension.

Jungkook pulled you close, his hands gliding over your wet skin. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The sensation of his strong arms around you, his body solid and warm, was a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed.

"You were amazing tonight," he murmured against your hair, his lips brushing your forehead. "I know it wasn’t easy, and I want you to know that I’m gonna keep my promise."

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, your eyes searching his for any sign of doubt. But as you looked deeper, something shifted. The lenses through which you saw Jeon Jungkook began to tint with a soft, rosy hue. His face, so familiar yet infinitely captivating, seemed to glow with a newfound warmth. The world around you faded, and in that moment, the colors of your life transformed, blending into shades of pink and gold, painting a picture of something…something you never quite felt yet.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water. "It means so much to me, Jungkook."

He smiled, a small, reassuring smile that made your heart flutter.

"I love you, baby."

The hot water cascaded over you both, creating a steamy haze that made everything feel surreal. Jungkook’s hands moved gently, tenderly, as if he was afraid you might break. You felt safe, cherished, and for a moment, all your fears and doubts melted away.

You did not flinch anymore when he ran his slender fingers over your perky nipples, not when his other hand slipped down the small of your back to grip your naked ass cheek. Instead, you leaned into his touch and asked yourself the same question you did hours ago.

What is it that changed within you?

The first light of Christmas Day filtered through the heavy drapes of the penthouse, casting a soft glow over the room. The world outside was quiet, blanketed in a gentle layer of snow that muffled the usual city sounds. You woke up to the warmth of Jungkook's arms wrapped around you, his breath steady and calm against your neck.

Jungkook stirred beside you, his eyes fluttering open. He smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Merry Christmas," he whispered, his voice husky from sleep.

"Merry Christmas," you replied, your voice still groggy. The scent of pine from the Christmas tree in the living room mingled with the aroma of coffee brewing in the kitchen. It felt like a picture-perfect morning, almost too serene for the turmoil that often lingered beneath the surface of your life with Jungkook.

He got up and wrapped himself in a robe before heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. You took a moment to collect yourself, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep and the ever-present tension. As you joined him in the kitchen, you noticed the table set beautifully, with a spread of breakfast items that looked straight out of a holiday magazine. There was bits of this and that on the tray and after a long time, you had an appetite to eat it all.

"Are we feeding an army or just trying to impress a really hungry ghost of Christmas past, Ebenezer?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at the lavish display.

Jungkook chuckled, a light-hearted sound that momentarily eased your nerves. "I thought we could indulge a little. It’s Christmas, after all."

You nodded, taking a seat at the table. The food was delicious, and the effort Jungkook had put into making this morning special was evident. For a moment, you allowed yourself to enjoy it, to pretend that everything was normal.

After breakfast, Jungkook led you to the living room where the Christmas tree stood, twinkling with lights and adorned with ornaments.

"Jungkook—" you began when you noticed the little beautifully wrapped box being tucked in the branches of the tree.

"I know, I know you said no gifts, but this is something for the both of us." His voice was gentle, almost pleading.

You sighed, but nodded, stepping closer to the tree. Jungkook reached for the box, carefully removing it from the branches. He turned to you, his eyes filled with an intensity that made your heart pound.

He handed you the box, his fingers brushing against yours. "Open it, baby," he urged softly.

Part of you wanted to freeze the moment, not because you wanted to remember this part of your life, but because you wished to not know what was coming your way. You had to decide now, and the tingly feeling inside of you, remembering Jimin’s words from last night, had never been clearer.

You can have it all, only if you’re willing to make the right choice.

Your hands trembled slightly as you unwrapped the box, revealing a small velvet case. You glanced up at Jungkook, your heart racing, but he simply nodded, encouraging you to continue.

You didn’t need to say it out loud for everyone to know what was inside. Yet, it still took your breath away. Not that you expected any less from Jeon Jungkook.

The ring commanded attention, with its centerpiece—a large, marquise-cut diamond. Set in a band of lustrous yellow gold, the setting featured intricate, filigree-style detailing that adorned each side of the diamond, evoking the elegance of a bygone era. Delicate, smaller accent diamonds were carefully embedded within the gold framework, amplifying the ring's dazzle and enhancing its vintage charm.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up from the ring at Jungkook, who had dropped to one knee before you.

"Will you marry me?"

I N T E R L O G U E

Yoongi leaned against the wall, his brow furrowed in thought. "You know, Jungkook, the mind is a fragile thing—"

"We've seen how the actual medication isn't helping her as much as we'd hoped. It's making her numb, Hyung. She's still spiraling. We need to try something different, something that might break through her—"

Yoongi crossed his arms, contemplating Jungkook's words. "And you think this is the way? To trick her into thinking she's taking the medication?"

"Sometimes," Jungkook replied softly, "a little deception can lead to the truth."

The end of part two - side B

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: @pamzn - @jaedayy (was unable to tag) - @mylyus-blog (was unable to tag) - @vanillacupcakefrosting - @jjeonjjk7 - @darkuni63 - @jeonaraathedreamer - @urlovelily - @kissyfacekoo - @looneybleus - @btspurplesky - @seokseokjinkim - @doulcha - @sexytholland - @minyngrl-blog - @mizuumii (was unable to tag) @ali99eel - @loomipee @jkslvsnella - @tearykth - @iveivory - @lachimolalajeon - @mother2monsters - @junecat18 - @mayvalentine33 - @ttanniett - @elle0604 - @mageprincess7 - @laylasbunbunny - @ashthetic7 - @00frenchfries00 - @weareatthebadlands (was unable to tag) - @annafarrr -

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! Only love please! ♥

see ya soon, love, p.

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moonstruckme · 2 days ago

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Hello there! I was wondering if you would be willing to write a request that I thought up? No pressure of course. I'd love to read your rendition of it but if you don't want to that is absolutely and of course fine.

So I am a pretty emotional person, and especially when I am pmsing or on my period its a very common sight for me to be silently crying over a sad reel or a photo of a puppy or sobbing loudly if I re-read my comfort angsty fic. I really crave physical affection and coddling during my period which sucks cause I live with 2 dormmates who sleep 2 steps away from me and aren't very touchy but are very loving. Like today my friend showed me a photo of her holding a puppy who was nuzzling into her sweatshirt, claws out and hooked in her sleeve and all and ofc I started crying. My other roommate was like don't show it to her she's on her period, she will cry. But then she was like, on second thought do, I enjoy her tears 💀.

On to my actual request now, sorry for rambling 😅

So I was wondering if the reader had a similar tendency with her emotions and hormones around her cycle, how the marauders would deal with it you know? Would they be used to it, asking if its just a leaky faucet to let some emotional pressure out (that happens a lot with me lol) or actual crying. If they would be freaking out no matter how often it happens. Or how they would coddle her.. very curious to see if you pick this up! Thanks for reading nonetheless <3<3

Haha thank you for your request angel <3

cw: reader who menstruates, mention of animals in televion industry, Sirius is not good with tears

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 644 words

You try not to make a spectacle of yourself. You really do. You hide in the corner of the couch, feeling the burn of your sinuses and eventually letting a couple of tears roll down your face without lifting a hand to wipe them. Your throat squeezes. Your temples ache.

Despite your best efforts, all it takes is one tiny sniffle to get the attention of your boyfriends.

James’ arm tightens around your shoulders. His cheek squishes into your head, voice heavy with sympathy as you both look at the TV. “I know, angel. It ends alright, though, yeah?”

“All he does,” you choke out, watching the dog on the screen through blurry vision, “is wait for his owner to come home every day. That’s his whole life.”

“It’s an advert for dog kibble!” Sirius protests.

You shrug, weeping, and Sirius gives a short laugh tinged with anxiety. Remus sets a hand on his knee.

“Sweetheart,” Remus says gently, “I’m sure that in real life, that dog is very well taken care of. He probably gets plenty of attention and time with his owners. He’s famous, right?”

You nod, though you can’t help a tiny sob as the on-screen dog sits straight up at the sound of a key in the door. “Right.”

“Right.” Remus gives you a kind look. “You okay? Not upset about anything else?”

“Yeah.” You sniffle weakly. “M’okay, just. My head hurts.”

James makes the sort of syrupy pitying sound that has your throat contracting all over again. “Do you think it might be the crying, lovie? It’s not the first time that commercial’s been on today. You could be dehydrated.”

“I don’t know,” you say, quietly. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ll fetch you a paracetamol and some water to be sure.” Remus stands, patting Sirius’ thigh consolingly when the other boy shifts off his lap with the movement. He touches the top of your head as he walks behind the couch, and James kisses the spot as though to second it.

“Baby.” Sirius turns to you with a stern look. “First the Lorax last night, and now this? The ad’s not even on anymore; it’s finished.”

“It’s just…” You swallow, fighting to keep your voice solid. “Do you think all pets feel like that? When their people leave to go to work?”

“No, honey,” James consoles you. “I think they’re happy to amuse themselves while we’re gone.”

“They’re perfectly fine,” says Sirius, not unkindly. “Stop crying.”

“Don’t be mean.” James gathers you closer. “She’s on her period, she’s entitled to some crying.”

“It’s like the hiccups, James. You’ve got to scare it off.”

“That’s barbaric.”

“What’s barbaric is the television industry that keeps making our girlfriend burst into tears at random points in the day!”

“You guys.” You’re nearly laughing now. With tears still wet on your cheeks, Sirius hardly looks comforted. “Don’t fight.”

“We’re not fighting.” James is quick to mollify you.

“Oh, dovey.” Remus returns with your painkillers, bending to wipe your face with a put upon frown. “Are they upsetting you?”

“God, no.” Sirius reclines back against the cushions, blowing a breath up towards the ceiling. “What chance have we of doing that, when there’s wealthy dog actors to do it for us?”

You take the water Remus has brought you, downing the painkiller. “Do you really think the dog gets decent money from the advert?” you ask as he pets your hair dotingly.

James ponders this. “Even if it’s not very much, I’d bet his owners put as much of it back into him as they can. He probably sleeps on a memory foam dog bed.”

Sirius is watching your face distressedly. “Baby,” he nearly pleads. “It’s okay.”

“No, that’s good,” you manage, voice a quiet squeak as your eyes fill again. “I just think that’s a really nice life for him. He deserves it.”

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dreamauri · 21 hours ago

Text

♪ —𝗖𝗔𝗡'𝗧 𝗕𝗘 𝗙𝗔𝗥 lando norris x girlfriend! reader (fluff) fic summary . . . the world might just end if Lando is 0.0001 centimetre away from you, it's his perfect excuse to stick to your side (780 words)

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )

Lando Norris was always a little . . . extra when it came to affection, but recently, he’d taken clinginess to a whole new level. The 2024 Formula One season has come to an end and the boy couldn’t seem to tolerate being more than a few centimetres away from you for even a second. And it was adorable, if not a little exhausting.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, and the two of you were lounging on the couch. You’d been absentmindedly scrolling through your phone, a habit you’d fallen into whenever Lando was in one of his needy moods. Of course, "needy" here was just his cute way of saying, "I can't live without your touch, don't ever leave me."

You sighed, setting your phone down beside you and stretching an arm above your head. "Alright, Lando, I’m gonna get up for a minute. I need a snack," you announced, attempting to gently slip your hand out of his, which had been securely holding yours for the past fifteen minutes.

Lando’s head immediately snapped up from your shoulder, a puppy-doll-eyes-like pout already forming on his lips. “What? No!” His fingers curled around yours more tightly. “Stay. Please?”

“Lando, I’m hungry,” you tried, gently pulling away again, but he wasn’t having it. He threw a dramatic arm across your body, pulling you back toward him with a grumble.

“You’re being rude,” he whined, squishing his face into the side of your neck. “I can’t let you go that far.” His voice was all soft and pitiful now, and his grip tightened again.

You laughed, trying to free yourself. “I just need five minutes, Lando. I’ll be right back!”

“You’re breaking my heart,” he murmured dramatically, pressing his cheek against your shoulder and sighing deeply, like he was about to start composing a song about lost love.

You tried to get up again, but this time, he didn’t let go. Instead, he slid into your lap, his head resting comfortably against your stomach as if this was his rightful place. “Can’t you just stay with me for, like, two seconds more?” His voice was small, almost childlike.

You giggled, running your fingers through his hair, something he adored. “You’re such a baby, Lando,” you teased, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“I’m not a baby,” he muttered, though the way he nuzzled into your lap said otherwise. “I just like being close to you.”

You smiled and stroked his hair, shifting slightly so you could grab a nearby blanket. But as soon as you moved even an inch, he whined, a noise that could’ve been mistaken for a distressed puppy. “Where are you going now?”

“I’m just . . . making us more comfortable.” You wrapped the blanket around both of you, trying to get cozy, but Lando wasn’t content with anything less than full body contact. He scooted closer, practically climbing into your side, laying his head on your chest now, his arms wrapped around your waist.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the fond smile spreading across your face. “Lando, you are impossible.”

“You love it,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. His voice was muffled from the warmth of your chest, but it didn’t hide the mischievous grin on his face.

“I do,” you admitted softly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “But I’m not sure how much more I can take of you trying to suffocate me with affection.”

Lando giggled, clearly pleased by your admission. “I don’t care. You’re mine, and I’m never letting go. Not even when you’re asleep.”

“Lando, you literally steal my blanket at night,” you sighed, but there was no malice in your voice.

He gave a dramatic sigh in return, finally giving you a bit of space but only so he could rest his head on your lap, looking up at you with those wide, pleading eyes. “I can’t sleep without you. You’re my favorite pillow.”

“I thought I was your favorite human,” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

“Exactly,” he grinned, his arms creeping around your waist once more. “So, you’re my favorite pillow. And my favorite person. And my favorite everything.”

You chuckled, your heart melting as you leaned down and kissed him. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you stay glued to me . . . just for a bit longer.”

“Thank you,” he said dramatically, resting his cheek on your lap like it was his throne. “I’ll never leave you alone again . . . well, except for when I’m racing.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, knowing full well that even then, he'd find some way to sneak his hand into yours during cool-downs or post-race interviews. Because Lando? He never really let go.

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jarenka · 2 days ago

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tags by @gffa

(sorry for using your tags for that rant about translations, don't feel yourself obligated to answer or something like that)

I don't want to disappoint you, but there are many edits in English translation of The Three-Body problem. I assume you can learn more about them here (I don't have access to an article itself) and also here Ken Liu says that he updated some outdated info. I don't think it's bad itself if done in a tandem with an author, but original and the translation will feel different. The Chinese reader would say that The Three-Body Problem has a natural prose flow, sexist language and uses outdated info from 2006, the English reader would say that The Three-Body Problem has unusual prose (honestly, I don't know, my knowledge of English is not enough to make judgments about qualities of the prose), no sexist language and uses info from 2014.

For me this approach that it's ok to edit the content of the book but the reader should feel that they read a translated book feels very performative to me. Honestly my first thought after reading this post and various tags was "Yes, guys, only 3% of your book market is translated literature, so you want to feel really special while reading Exotic Foreign Literature". But also, what kind of "rhythm of another language" you all are taking about? It's not that I don't know any other languages other than my own (I write this in a foreign language), but there is no specific "rhythm of the X language", literature in any language is very diverse in rhythm and style. Do you feel like Dickens, Sara J. Maas and Hemingway have the same rhythm and cadence because they all write and English? Transporting the style of the prose into another language is a very tricky thing. Ironically, I know one Russian translation that spectacularly failed at it. The Catcher in The Rye was translated in English in USSR and unfortunately was censored, so in 2008 another translator attempted to translate it, and this translation was... controversial. Imo, it was just absolutely horrendous in its tone and style. It sounds like an attempt of a middle aged Russian dude who has never spoke with a teenager in their life to write from POV of the edgy teenager.

Yes, literary translation is a big can of worms, and every translator choses between different strategies of translation what book and for which audience they translate. And some things are untranslatable at all.

For example, regional dialects. For example, German and (British) English has super distinct regional dialects, so people in different cities in Germany and Britain speak very differently, people in different cities of Russia speaks almost identically with very minor quirks in some regions. There are more difference between Russian speakers in rural areas, but even of we use these differences German guy from Bavaria speaks like a guy from the village near Tver. Cockney dialect is absolutely untranslatable to Russian.

Same goes to some artistic effects. The beginning of the War and Peace novel is (in)famous for dialogues in French. They amplify for Russian readers how actually common for Russian aristocracy to speak in French. But when you translate it into French, what are you going to do with them?

(I mean yes, you won't translate it, but the artistic purpose of these paragraphs is lost in French translation)

The same with Russian translation of A Clockwork Orange. It has slang in Russian that is supposed to alienate the reader, but in Russian translation they are just Russian words written in Latin alphabet, and they are completely understandable for Russian readers.

Some jokes are untranslatable. Some set expressions might have significance for the plot/dialogue, so translator need to use a footnote to explain this nuance for the reader.

Anyway as someone who read majority of books and translation (which is normal for avid Russian-speaker reader) and specifically goes out their way to read mystery/thriller and literary fiction translated from different languages, I feel like linguistic aspects of foreign literature is just a miniscule point of my interest. Yes, I find out about Finnish slang word for lesbian, but overall it's more interesting to see what people in other countries are writing about. Of course my experience is severely skewed by the fact that book should be translated into Russian for me to read it, but they are still books that are written for an audience in another country and about things that are interesting and important for them. For example last year I've read three books by French writers of African decent, all with different plots but with similar themes of French colonialism and relationships between France and its (former) colonies. I just don't think that you would be ever able to read from this perspective if you don't read in French or you don't read books translated from French.

"The best translations into English do not, in fact, read as if they were originally written in English. The English words are arranged in such a way that the reader sees a glimpse of another culture’s patterns of thinking, hears an echo of another language’s rhythms and cadences, and feels a tremor of another people’s gestures and movements."

— Ken Liu, Translator’s Postface to The Three-Body Problem

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webism · 11 hours ago

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CHAPTER ONE: The Businessman.

kento nanami x fem!reader. nsfw.

your first night at Tsukumo's Angels, and you get put on the phone sex line.

masterlist. read on ao3

You sit on a peeling leather couch that sticks to the back of your thighs in the heat. An old metal-blade fan sits mounted on the wall to your left, but it’s a sorry excuse for one—someone blowing on you would quicker dry the sweat from your brow. It’s not as dingy as Toji’s apartment, which you suppose is an upside: things are looking brighter already. Yay.

The beautiful woman sitting across from you in a small black tank and jeans—in this weather—taps her nails against the surface of her desk. Her blonde hair gates her vision a little, but you can still feel the sharpness of her gaze on your skin. She’s sizing you up. You aren’t sure if you like it.

“So,” she leans back in her seat. “Your name was..?”

You look up at her, at the way her hands are clasped together. She could look down at the faded resumé in front of her and see your name written as clear as day, but she asks you instead. Maybe to hear it from your own lips.

You tell her your name, and she parrots it back to you to test it on her tongue. She decides that she likes the taste. “I’m Yuki Tsukumo. I own Tsukumo’s Angels, the finest budget escort service in the city.”

You knew that, of course, but you nod as a formality regardless. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Yuki smiles at you—wide and toothy and ever so beautiful. She reaches into her drawer and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. She blows her smoke to the left and you almost forget just how hot it is in her office. “I hear you’d like a job?”

You’re going to hell. Every late-night-TV preacher and grandmother in the congregation would tell you the same thing. It’s not just what you’re doing—it’s what you’re thinking, what you’re willing to become to make it out of this.

When you were younger, stupider, you’d fear hell like nothing else. Eternal heat, endless suffering, a constant lack of breath, a pit with no end. Now, you’re starting to think it might feel a lot like this city at night: oppressive heat rising from the pavement, the air thick and stifling, and an unshakable sense that something, or someone, is watching you.

Toji used to call the nightlife a cancer. And although he rarely managed the truth, this might have been one of the rare times it slipped past his lips. You tug at the hem of your dress—a little too tight, a little too short. It’s what you had to work with, cobbled together from a half-hearted thrift store run and whatever nerve you could muster.Yuki didn’t say anything about a dress code, and maybe you’re stereotyping yourself here, but you’re out of your element and this dress is short enough to strip the attention from your fidgeting hands.

The fluorescent lights outside Tsukumo’s Angels buzz faintly as you approach, the words glowing in neon pink that is reflected in the puddles on the concrete. The heavy metal door creaks loudly when you push it open and step in. 7 on the dot. You’ll be here tonight, so you don’t have to worry about finding a place to live until tomorrow. Don’t think about it.

Inside, the air is cooler, though not by much. The same peeling leather couch greets you, as does the same faint smell of smoke and something cheap, floral, and over-applied. Yuki isn’t at the desk this time, but a tall man in a plain white button-up leans against it, his arms crossed. He’s an attractive man, a cigarette hangs from his lips—you’re starting to see a trend in staff here.

“You the lamb?” He asks, though the way he looks you up and down tells you he already has an answer to that question.

“Lamb?” you ask.

He smiles, moustached lip curling upwards in something mocking and dangerously sultry. “Yeah, you’re the lamb—” he extends a hand for you to shake “—Shiu.”

Shiu has a rough grip, you note. Not mean or calloused like you’d expect from a man of physical labours, but just… rough. “It’s nice to meet you,” you hum. He laughs.

He takes another drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brighter in the dim light, and looks you over once more before flicking the ash into an already overflowing tray on the desk. He blows a plume of smoke toward the ceiling, eyes narrowing slightly as the smoke curls. “You look familiar. I’ve seen you here before?”

You shake your head. “You haven’t.”

Shiu narrows his eyes even further, takes in the way your dress clings tight, how your frame stands in front of him. Your nerves… the tinge of excitement beneath them. “Have we..?”

“No!” your eyes widen, voice a little louder than you intend it to be. “Sorry. I just got out of a relationship so… no, we haven’t…”

“A breakup, huh? That’s always an interesting reason to land somewhere like this.” His voice lowers. He’s toying with you. “What’d he do? Not give you enough attention? Leave you out in the cold?”

You don’t owe him an explanation: you’re here and that’s all that matters, but you find yourself shrugging regardless. “Something like that.”

Shiu smiles, something teasing but not quite mocking. “Right, well if you’re here as a rebound I’d advise you to walk your ass right back out of that door. You’ll get attention here, for sure, but this isn’t the place for… soft comforts.”

“I’m not here for comfort.”

“Good,” says Shiu. “Keep it that way. You’re here to provide a service, an experience, but not without boundaries. Those lines blur when you start wanting cuddles and reassurance after, and when the lines blur you aren’t doing everything in your power to keep yourself safe. These men—and women—pay for sex for a reason. Remember that.”

You know. You know. There’s nothing warm and fuzzy about being an Angel, or a lamb, as he puts it. Still, you want to make the most of the hole you’re in. You narrow your eyes at Shiu and hope he doesn’t chide you for changing the subject when you ask: “and what about you? Are you—”

“For sale?” A door behind Shiu pushes open and in walks Yuki Tsukumo. She’s ditched the jeans from yesterday for a long black dress: one that hugs her figure and flows like liquid down to her ankles. She looks taller, and a whole lot cleaner than the gritty lobby you stand in. “Give me a good offer and I’ll rent him out to you. Shiu is security, he’ll take care of you if and when you need him to.”

Shiu scoffs at Yuki’s joke and takes a step to the left so that she can slot in next to him. Yuki, your boss, looks you up and down. You catch the way her gaze lingers on your dress, though you can’t tell if it’s judgement or approval behind her lashes. She flits her gaze to Shiu. “Are you trying to scare my lamb away, Kong?”

Shiu shrugs. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Yuki rolls her eyes and lands her gaze on you once again. Seeing you so out of your element, she gives you a soft smile to try and ease your nerves. “You’ll be okay here. I showed you my office yesterday, I’ll be in there if you need me at any time, okay? You’re never more than a few steps from security and if you have issues with anyone, co-worker or client, you can come to me.”

Weirdly, that does soothe you. Though your moment to take a breath quickly passes when Yuki straightens up and turns on her heels with only a nod for you to follow. “Come then.”

The door she came from leads down a long hallway with dim fluorescent lights flickering overhead. The walls are bare, the paint chipped in spots, revealing patches of old wallpaper beneath. Yuki doesn’t wait for you to catch up; her heels click with purpose on the tiled floor, echoing through the narrow space. You’re almost at the end of the hall before she speaks again, her tone matter-of-fact. “I’m not going to throw you in the deep end, but you’re not getting a soft landing either. I’ll introduce you to one of my angels, Utahime, and she’s going to walk you through our phone sex services. Sound good?”

Without waiting for a reply, Yuki steps through another door and leads you into a big lounge area. Against the back wall are a bunch of mirrors and vanity stations, makeup and hygiene products littered over each tabletop. A few girls in even fewer clothing sit and do their hair and makeup, chatting amongst themselves and shooting you soft smiles as you and Yuki walk past.

Your boss steps over to a cream chaise lounge against another wall where a girl around your age lays splayed across the cushioning. She’s wearing a dress like yours, short and black and very ‘sex-sells’, and is tapping away on her phone with such rapt attention she doesn’t notice the two of you approach until Yuki clears her throat.

“Utahime,” she drawls and gestures to you. “This is our newest lamb. I’d like you to walk her through our phone services tonight. Doable?”

The girl—Utahime—looks you over. She looks a little bored, gorgeous black hair falling over her shoulders and her nails still tapping absentmindedly against her phone screen. Her perfectly arched brow raises, just slightly, before she finally glances at Yuki.

“Doable,” she says with a lazy shrug. “I have the businessman booked in for a call in half an hour… maybe he’d like a session with the new girl?”

You look at Yuki, who looks at you in the same breath. She seems to think about something before ultimately nodding. “If you can get her up to speed before he calls, let her have a go with him.”

“The businessman?” You ask.

Yuki smiles. “He’s a hard worked man, but he’s so unfamiliar with his sex drive that you’d think he was a priest. He might actually benefit from talking to someone new.”

You nod—sex therapy for a businessman couldn’t be that hard. Utahime stands and adjusts her dress before grabbing your wrist and parting from Yuki to pull you across the lounge and into a room off to the side. Utahime’s grip on your wrist is firm but not unkind, and loosens once youre in what she introduces to you as the studio.

It’s so much nicer than you expected. The room is decently sized and lit up with warm fairy lights. Almost like a recording studio, there are doors to a few booths across the wall, each one decorated to the nines with pillows and blankets and a station for water and personal items. A few low tables hold candles, fake or otherwise, alongside a small black box of… what you imagine might be toys. A plush little sofa sits in each one too, for comfort.

“Nice, right?” Utahime hums and gently pushes you into one of the booths. “Everything’s designed to make you more comfortable. Clients pick up on that, even over the phone. It’s all sound-proofed in here too, so if you get into it you can be as loud as you want. Seriously, make it yours. You’ll be in here a lot until you start taking in-person clients.”

Utahime sits down on the floor and tosses a pillow in your direction. You startle a little but look at her with a knowing smile at her efforts to start feeling familiar. “So,” you start, sitting down on the plush sofa and toying with the small headset that hangs from the armrest. “The businessman… tell me about him?”

Utahime leans back against the wall and props her chin in her hand. “The businessmaaaan. He’s sweet. He’s only called in once before, spoke to me but got too nervous to do anything more than talk about his day. He was polite—apologised about ten times for wasting my time, which, by the way, he wasn’t. He’s got this earnestness about him that’s kind of rare. But you can tell he’s not used to this kind of thing. Not even close. It’s… cute.”

You look at her, a soft smile crosses her lips. If it wasn’t just work you’d think she had a soft spot for him. “Do you think he’ll mind talking to me instead of you? Changing things up might make him feel even more nervous.”

Utahime shakes her head. “I think he’ll appreciate someone who’s also new to this. You can learn from each other. He’s booked to call in twenty minutes. We could do some practice calls until then? I’ll show you the ropes.”

She puts her hand up to her ear to simulate a phone and you laugh at the gesture. “Sounds good.”

Meanwhile, in his small apartment bedroom, Kento Nanami—the businessman—paces from door to dresser. Back and forth, back and forth. He tightens his tie, and then loosens it just to feel unmade and tighten it again.

Why did he book a second call? The first was ridiculous, he talked to a nice young lady about officework woes and quarterly reports and hung up after an hour with a call-girl sized dent in his wallet and no sexual relief to show for it. He’s of half a mind to walk over to his mirror and start practicing lines, but he hasn’t yet lost so much of his decorum.

For the next ten minutes, Nanami sits with his fingers drumming over his thighs, dull thuds against his slacks. He’s lost in his mind, is he even aroused? Capable of being aroused? He can’t remember the last time he jerked off—last month?

He’s two minutes late to call by the time he next checks his phone. “Shit,” he mumbles, fumbling to the contact saved under ‘Personal Services.’ Nanami stares at the screen for a moment, his thumb hovering over the call button. He clears his throat, adjusts his posture, and exhales sharply through his nose before pressing ‘CALL’.

The line rings, once… twice… and then— “Tsukumo’s Angels, what’s on your mind?”

His breath hitches. He shouldn’t freeze like this, but the poor man simply cannot help it. “Good evening,” he sounds clinical, and his mind is working faster than his mouth because he’s talking before he can register the words that leave his lips. “You… aren’t who I talked to last week.”

“I’m not,” the voice says, Nanami picks up on an edge of unsurety that traces your words. “You’ve caught me on my first night… you could get to know me, if you’d like to.”

Nanami nods, and then realises you can’t see him. “I’d, uh, I’d like that.”’

There’s a soft hum of acknowledgement from your side of the call, and Kento stops feeling the need to toy with his tie. “Great,” you say, your voice steadying a little. “So… why don’t we start with something easy? Tell me a bit about yourself.”

Nanami hesitates. “There’s not much to tell. I work in finance. My days are… predictable, for the most part.”

“Predictability isn’t always a bad thing,” you reply gently. “But I get the feeling you aren’t fulfilled.”

"You could say that. It’s a practical job. It pays the bills." He pauses, then adds, almost reluctantly, "though I think I’d like a vacation.”

From your spot on the sofa at Tsukumo’s Angels, you lean back and glance at the door. Utahime had stepped out a few minutes ago, giving you space to settle into your first call. “Are you a beach man or a mountain man?”

“Beach,” his reply is immediate. He clears his throat. “There’s something calming about the ocean. The sound of the waves, the salt in the air… it’s grounding.”

You smile at the vivid image his words paint. “I get that. The ocean feels endless in a way that’s comforting, doesn’t it? Like it can hold all your worries for a while.”

“Yes. Exactly that. I’d read, listen to the water, just exist.”

“What does a man like you read?”

“Anything classic. I like things tried-and-true, change is… difficult for me. Hemingway maybe. Or Murakami, if I’m in the right mood.”

“Tasteful,” you reply. “And if I were there on the beach with you, could I distract you from your book, or are you diligent in your focus?”

In his room, Nanami’s mouth goes dry as his cock twitches in his slacks. You haven’t even said anything lewd, but he’s feeling oddly restless nonetheless. “I like to think I’m a focused man,” he starts, shuffling back on his bed to rest against the headboard. He takes his glasses off and rests them on the bedside table. “But under the right circumstances, I could be persuaded to set the book down.”

“Careful, businessman, I could take that as a challenge.”

“I’d hope so.”

He’s blushing at his own words and, in the same breath, reaching downwards with his free hand to palm as his hardening cock. He takes a sharp breath in and prays to every god he’s ever read about that you didn’t hear him.

“You’re saying I’d have to earn your attention?” Your question is honeyed.

“I suppose,” so is his reply.

“Good, I like working for my meals.”

Nanami snorts— “what, you’re going to eat me?”

“Yes,” your voice makes his cock jump. He sighs and pulls his slacks down enough to hook it out. “Have you ever wanted something so bad that you’d consume it whole if you could?”

Nanami thinks for a moment about a promotion, and then shakes his head. His mind jumps instead to the hypothetical beach retreat, with a book in one hand and the back of your head in his other as he pushes your mouth down on his cock so deep you’re gagging and drooling all over the place. Ungentlemanly, but enough of a visual to incite his tip to start drooling precum. He smears it over the head with his thumb, and nearly chokes on his words. “I have.”

“That’s how I feel. There’s an intimacy to taking care of someone, especially when they’re stressed like you. I bet your muscles are so tight they’d be hard under my hands. Being the one to relax you, make you feel good? That’d make me feel good.”

Nanami hums. “Usually I’m the one doing the servicing.”

“I don’t doubt that. You should be the one being taken care of. Poor thing, working so hard every day: carrying all that weight on your shoulders. You deserve a break.”

Poor Kento moans at that—a break. God, the things he’d do for a break. He feels almost pathetic pumping his cock to the thought of reprieve from the monotonous 9-5 he lives, but he hasn’t felt this good in a long time. His breathing grows heavier as your words coil around him. “You’re… ha, you’re good at this. It’s your first day?”

“Don’t distract me,” you hum. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“You,” he exhales. “Your eyes. Looking up at me. Or your hands on my thighs. How you’d touch me like you know me. Like we know each other. Like we’ve done it a hundred times before and still aren’t sick of each other.”

He doesn’t know why he says that, why his fantasy quickly shifts from a beachside blowjob to the domestic life. To lazy morning sex or late nights in the kitchen that turn from snack runs to you hoisted onto the counter with his head between your thighs. He pictures you, whatever you look like, laughing as he kisses your neck and brings home gifts carved out of his paycheck. He pictures a life shared, and feels awful for it.

“Sorry,” his strokes falter. “Sorry I don’t know why—”

“I like that thought,” you stop him from spiralling. “Maybe we have. Maybe in another life you’d come home to me every night, waiting for you… ready to make you forget about everything but the way you make me feel.”

His chest heaves as his hand works faster, stroking his cock at a near brutal pace to the images you plant into his mind. You’re in his bed, you’re bent over his desk, you’re lazing on the sofa with him, you’re up against the wall in his shower. “Fuck.”

“I’d know you inside and out,” you continue on, and he swears he can hear a slight hitch to your breath—are you touching yourself? He pictures phone sex operators sitting bored at a desk as they read from a script. But you sound…invested. Heated. “I’d know exactly how to take care of you. You’d come home exhausted and I’d make it all better—god, you’d know all of me too.”

Nanami’s hips jerk up into his hand as he feels his release start to build. It’s already dizzying, after such a long dry spell, and his head tips forward in want.“You’re—ha—too good at this. How the hell… how are you—”

“Shh,” you soothe him. “Don’t think. Just feel, just let me take care of you… even from here. You’re touching yourself, yea? Imagine it’s my hand, stroking you after a long day, love. Or maybe I’m riding you, letting you lay back and feel me around you… you wouldn’t have to do a damn thing.”

His free hand fists the sheets as he imagines the warmth of your body pressing against his, the way your nails might scrape lightly over his skin. He pictures your head tilted back, lips parted in ecstasy as you moan his name over and over again.

“You’re driving me fucking insane,” he rarely curses like this. Still, he’s never indulged in something like this before—never let himself slip into the raw, visceral need he now feels. The restraint he’s so practiced in every aspect of his life is dissolving fast, leaving him chasing the pleasure you’re pouring into him.

“Good,” you hum. “I want you to let go for me, give me everything you have all pent up. I can take it.”

Nanami’s pace turns frantic, hips fucking up into his fist as he strokes himself at a torrid pace. His mind is hazed with fantasies of a simple life, domestic and passionate and before he can stop himself and force a few more minutes of pleasure he’s cumming—hard. A strangled moan, one made for porn, leaves his lips and is met with a sharp intake of breath from your end. Nanami feels self conscious for a moment, drawing his now-sticky hand from his cock as he listens to the phone—were you uncomfortable?

Far from. You hardly realise you have your dress hiked and your hand under the fabric of your panties until you’re timing your orgasm with the businessman on the other end of the call. This is far from protocol, but the last time you’ve been spoken to about making love was when you and Toji first started dating, when he was still sweet on you. Sex since then has been rough and passionate and bruising and great, but never love-making.

You try and stifle your sounds, not knowing yet if it's appropriate for you to touch yourself alongside your clients. You hadn’t intended on it, that’s for sure. You blink the blur from your vision as you try and regain your composure, sliding your hand out of your panties and holding it up in front of you—your fingers glisten under the soft lights and you scramble for a tissue to clean yourself off.

The silence on the phone between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. “Are you�� okay?”

“Yes,” you breathe out a lot quicker than you need to.

“Good,” he says, and you can almost hear the faint smile in his tone. “I was worried I’d—well, that I’d crossed a line.”

You shake your head, even though he can’t see it, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from blurting out how very far from uncomfortable you’d been. “Not at all. I guess we both… just got caught up in the moment.”

He hums in agreement, his voice still a little strained, and something about the lilt of his voice lays deep inside of you. Maybe this line of work isn’t for you if… after one call with a man you don’t know otherwise, you’re already starting to feel open with him. When he speaks, you can hear the nerves lacing his words. “I’m not unhappy it happened.”

“Me neither. You’re full of surprises, Mr. Businessman.”

“You have a way of coaxing them out of me,” he replies. “If I call again, will I get to speak to you?”

It’s a simple question, yet it still implies something more. There’s no rule against it—not officially—but getting closer than needed with clients has already been explained to you as a messy line. Still, you’ve just fucked your fingers to his voice and the fantasies he spoke of—you aren’t in a habit of keeping straight edges.

“Maybe,” you reply, leaving the door open just enough. “Ask for the lamb.”

“The lamb?” He laughs, you like the sound. “I’ll remember that.”

“Please do.”

There's a moment of silence, and you can see Utahime’s shadow in the frosted window on the door. A quick glance to the clock tells you that an hour has passed already. As if sensing your coming end, the businessman speaks. “My time is almost up. Take care of yourself.”

You stare at the door. “You too, Mr Businessman.”

“Nanami,” he corrects you gently. “You can call me Nanami.”

The call ends with a soft click, leaving you sitting there and rpelaying his correction in your head. Nanami.

You’re so lost in thought that you barely register the door creaking open. Utahime steps in, and it’s only when her gaze drops to your lap that the realisation hits—your dress is still slightly rucked up, and your flustered attempt to straighten it comes a moment too late.

“Oh, lamb,” she drawls, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Caught you, didn’t I?”

Your cheeks burn as you stammer, “It’s not—”

“Relax. It happens to everyone eventually.”

You gape at her, mortified. “This doesn’t happen to everyone.”

Utahime grins, her black hair falling over her shoulders as she dips her head down in laughter. It’s not teasing—moreso friendly. She’s trying to laugh with you, not at you. Though still embarrassed, you feel a little less like you want to melt into the couch as she continues. “And you know what that means?”

You tilt your head at her. “What does it mean?”

“That you’ll fit right in here, lamb.”

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#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #nanami smut #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x you #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk

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meidiary · 3 days ago

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soo I read @popponn 's post and had to do it w bachira !

meguru bachira who always ends up in the weirdest positions when you wake up. the most normal one being when his leg is draped over you, his face somehow nuzzled in your chest, and his arm wrapped around your waist underneath your pyjama top, which he has a big problem with by the way! because why is it that he just can't seem to convince you to sleep commando? he'll find a way to get under those garments of yours anyway, so why not make it a bit easier for him?

meguru bachira who needs to have his hands on you at all times; on your hips, waist, hand, wrist, even just interlocking your pinky with his would suffice. try brushing your teeth in the morning without having a bachira hanging on your waist, his head right on top of your shoulder as he mumbles a cheeky "morning, pretty~" to you.

meguru bachira who wears your tight-fitted t-shirts (and somehow pulls them off better than you do, according to you) all to make you have to wear his clothes. just because he's addicted to the way his stomach flips when he sees you styling his hoodie, or the way his chest feels tighter when you walk towards him in his oversized white tee, it suddenly looking way better than when he was whining about it being too basic to wear.

meguru bachira who, when your shoelaces get loose and you bat your eyelashes at him, asking him to "baby, could you please tie 'em for me?", purposely ties them loose again, so you'll have to ask him yet another time. but can you blame him? he just loves how you bite the inside of your bottom lip, contemplating whether you should ask him again or do it yourself.

meguru bachira who puts his chin on your shoulder whenever you're finally sat all pretty on his lap, fiddling with his fingers on your thigh. the double date you had planned not fulfilling his desperate and constant needs of being as close to you as possible because your friend keeps pulling you away from him each time he tries keeping you close. oh, and don't get him started on that crusty 'boyfriend' of your friend who has looked at you with hearts in his eyes for way too many times.

meguru bachira who ends up grabbing you on top of his lap telling you he's this close to disfiguring that thing's face if he as much as breathes near you one more time.

meguru bachira who pins you against the wall the moment you're home, his mouth latching on your neck right away. he's nibbling on your soft skin while your fingers find their way to his hair, tugging on his back blond locks while you let out a quiet squeal when he moves up to the end of your jaw, marking the left side of your neck. "m-meg.." you gasped, feeling his fingers squeeze your hips even harder when he pulls you even closer to him. "mine-" nibble "mine-" nibble "all mine-" he mumbles in-between of each new spot his mouth latches on.

meguru bachira, who might be a tad bit too clingy for his own good, but god is he infatuated with you. your scent, your smile, your voice, the way you eyes widen when he whispers certain things in you ear when you're in public. he's just a silly guy in love y'know?

[ ♡ ]

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bachira meguru #meguru bachira #bachira x reader #bllk bachira #blue lock bachira #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #bllk x you #meguru bachira x reader #bachira x you #bachira meguru x reader #bachira fluff #blue lock #bllk #blue lock fluff #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n

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citrusipop · 2 days ago

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Pagtingin! . hyun-ju

" When I reveal my feelings I hope your opinion of me won't change When I confess my secrets I hope your opinion of me won't change " - patingin by ben&ben

in which . in which Hyun-ju comes back after the events of the game and she happens to bump into her partner who she left without an explanation.

cho hyun-ju x reader (fem) . angst/fluff

based off . ♡

Strolling through the busy streets, you stumbled upon your favorite café. As you stepped inside, you were greeted by the comforting aroma of coffee and vanilla, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Sweet bossa nova music played softly in the background, blending with the gentle hum of conversations. It was the perfect day to settle down and work in the cozy atmosphere of the café. After ordering your usual coffee and sweet treats, you made your way to a nearby table by the window.

Taking your seat, you gazed out at the bustling street. Sure, it might seem cliché to some—a solitary figure at a window seat in a café—but to you, it was a small joy. The window wasn’t just a pane of glass; it was a lens into the endless stories unfolding outside. Watching strangers go about their lives, you found yourself imagining their worlds. Two girls walked past in school uniforms—you guessed they were high schoolers, maybe around fourteen or fifteen. Your eyes followed a middle-aged man pedaling his bike, his neatly pressed office attire suggesting he worked in accounting or something similar.

It fascinated you how everyone’s lives were so different from your own. Each person outside that window carried a story you’d never fully know, lives that were nothing like yours—boring, miserable, yet oddly peaceful and happy in their own way. And for a moment, watching them, you felt connected to something bigger, as though their differences somehow brought you closer to understanding your own quiet existence.

Your thoughts suddenly come to an end when you hear a group of people laughing next to you. You wish you had your earbuds with you to drown out the sounds but the gods were against you and made you forget to bring it. Wallowing in your sadness, you heard a familiar laugh coming from the table next to you and it made your mind race, turning to the table next to you…

It was her. For a moment, you froze, your breath hitching in your chest. Oh, how you wished this was a dream—because it certainly felt like one. A dream so vivid, so achingly beautiful, that the thought of waking up filled you with dread. But it wasn’t a dream. The world around you blurred and faded, leaving only her, like the central figure in a watercolor painting.

And then you heard it, her laughter. That soft, melodic sound you thought you’d forgotten but never truly could. It was like a gentle breeze carrying fragments of your past, filling you with a bittersweet ache. That laughter brought you back to a time when everything felt lighter, simpler, and whole. Nostalgia crashed into you, raw and unrelenting, pulling at the corners of your heart.

You wanted to move, to say something, but all you could do was sit there, drinking in the moment. That sound, that sight of her—it was a warmth you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. And for just an instant, you allowed yourself to believe that this wasn’t just a fleeting memory or a trick of your longing mind but something real, something you could hold onto, even if only for a little while.

You hadn’t realized how long your gaze had been fixed on her until you noticed she was looking back at you. Her almond-shaped brown eyes met yours, locking you in place. She gave you a smile like before, but your mind drifted to how beautiful and ethereal she looked as the sun from the window embraced her figure. Her hair was tied neatly into a ponytail, the soft simple makeup making her look beautiful. You felt like you were seeing an angel for the first time, you felt like you were seeing her for the first time. And it made her heart skip a beat. You noticed how she excused herself to her friends and she was now making her way towards your table, quickly you moved your laptop and notepad away, your fingers running through your hair as you fixed it and made it look more presentable.

“Hi…” Hyun-ju said shyly, looking right at you with a soft smile, you looked up from your notepad and gave her a tight smile. Awkward silence filled the air as the tall woman stood still in front of your table, you took notice and felt bad. You motioned your hand to the empty chair in front of you indicating that she can take that seat. Another set of awkward silence filled the coffee shop, the tension was so thick you felt as if coming to this cafe was a mistake.

“You look beautiful today.”

The words hung in the air, soft but sincere, making Hyun-ju pause. Her eyes flickered to you, but you avoided her gaze, focusing instead on the cup in your hands. Still, the familiar warmth spread through her chest. Hearing you call her beautiful always meant the world to her. It was a reminder that you saw her, loved her, just as she was. Yet, the pang of guilt was unavoidable. She had walked away without a word, leaving behind questions that she still couldn’t answer.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes caught the faint smile tugging at your lips, and something shifted. A flicker of hope sparked within her, a fragile belief that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to mend what had been broken.

As if on cue, both of you started speaking at the same time, your voices overlapping awkwardly. You exchanged startled glances before bursting into quiet laughter, the sound breaking the tension between you. It was a silly, fleeting moment, but it carried a strange weight. For a second, it felt like you were teenagers again, stumbling through the nerves of a first date. Or perhaps it was just the awkwardness of two people who once knew each other so well, trying to find their footing again.

You stole another glance at Hyun-ju, and the sight of her hit you harder than you expected. The ache in your chest flared up, a sharp reminder of the emptiness her absence had left behind. No matter how much you had tried to fill that void, it had never worked. And now, sitting here with her, you couldn’t help but wonder if that missing piece had always been her.

But words refused to come. Your throat tightened, the lump there stubbornly blocking every thought, every feeling you wanted to voice. The two of you sat in silence, the weight of everything unspoken pressing down. Yet, in the quiet, there was something unbreakable—a connection that time and distance hadn’t erased.

You hear Hyun-ju clear her throat, you glance at her as she says, “I…I miss you, it’s been a while.” It made you smile a bit despite the hurt you were feeling inside, “I miss you too.” You said softly, as your thumb caresses the warm cup of coffee. You never felt this wave of emotions before, something so bittersweet. Sadness and hurt was evident on your face and Hyun-ju can clearly see it.

Your teary eyes locked with hers. “Funny, isn’t it? It’s been five weeks. Five weeks since I last heard from you.” Your voice wavered, though you tried to mask it with a frown. “And now, here you are, showing up as if nothing happened.” The words came out colder than you intended, laced with the bitterness that had been festering in the void her absence left behind.

Hyun-ju stood frozen, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words came. What could she even say? Would you believe her if she told you the truth? That she had been kidnapped, thrust into a series of deadly games because of her debts and her desperation to complete her transition? That she had watched countless lives end in horrifying ways, the weight of survival pressing down on her with every passing second?

You noticed the flicker of conflict in her expression, and it only fueled your frustration. “Look,” you said sharply, “if you don’t want to deal with this—us—it’s fine. Just say it.” Your voice cracked, but before you could say more, Hyun-ju cut you off.

“Y/N.” Her voice was firm, but there was a tremor in it. “I never said I didn’t want this. Or that I wanted it to be over. You mean too much to me.” Her gaze dropped, her voice softening. “You… you wouldn’t understand. That’s the problem.”

“Understand what, Hyun-ju?” you snapped, your frustration boiling over. “You can’t just show up and expect me to be okay after you disappeared without a word. No call, no text, nothing. Five weeks, Hyun-ju. Five.” Your hands trembled as you clenched them into fists, your voice growing harsher. “Do you know how hard I tried to find you? How much I worried? Don’t tell me I don’t understand when you’re not even telling me what I’m supposed to understand.”

Your words hung heavy in the air, cutting through the fragile tension like a blade. You didn’t want to sound this harsh, but the hurt, confusion, and stress had built up too much to hold back. It wasn’t just the absence that hurt—it was the silence, the unanswered questions, the sense that she had left you in the dark without a second thought.

The tone of your voice cut through Hyun-ju’s heart more deeply than you could ever know. Her chest ached with guilt, the weight of her choices pressing down on her. She had thought leaving without a word was the right thing to do—a way to protect you from the chaos of her life. But now, facing the consequences, she realized how wrong she had been. Immature. Thoughtless.

“I just…” Her voice faltered, barely above a whisper. “I thought you wouldn’t love me anymore… that I’d be a disgrace to you, the way I am to everyone else.” Her words were soft, almost as if she was afraid of saying them out loud, afraid of the weight they carried.

Hearing her broke something in you. You had been so consumed by your own pain, your own confusion, that you hadn’t stopped to see hers. In that moment, you realized it wasn’t just you who had been hurting. She had been carrying her own burden of fear and self-doubt, silently tearing herself apart. And now, her vulnerability was laid bare, raw and trembling in front of you.

“You deserve someone better than me, Y/N,” Hyun-ju whispered, her voice trembling. “You can’t be in a relationship with someone like me—”

Before she could finish, you reached out, gently taking her soft, larger hand in yours. “Stop,” you said firmly, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I don’t care, Hyun-ju. I don’t care about any of that.”

Your thumb gently traced small circles over her hand, grounding both of you in the moment. “I love you for who you are. Every part of you. To me, you’re perfect—the most beautiful woman in the world. And honestly, it amazes me every single day that you chose someone like me to be with you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you gave her a soft, heartfelt smile. It wasn’t just your words that spoke—it was the way you looked at her, as if she was the only person in the world who mattered.

Hyun-ju let out a choked sob, gripping your hand tightly as if you might disappear. “I just… I thought that one day you’d wake up and realize you deserve someone better. That—That you’d see I’m not enough for you because I’m not perfect.” Her voice cracked as tears spilled freely down her cheeks. “This body… this body that I’ve fought so hard for, it’s still not enough. People look at me and see a lie, a joke. I thought maybe one day you’d see me the same way, and it would break me, Y/N. It would destroy me.”

Her words came in waves, each one laced with years of pain and fear. “You deserve someone who doesn’t have to fight to exist. Someone who doesn’t carry the kind of baggage I do. I’ve seen the way people stare at us when we’re together. The way they judge you just for loving me. And I thought… maybe you’d get tired of it. Of me. Of always having to defend me, to fight for me. I thought you’d leave, and I didn’t think I’d survive it.”

Her voice grew softer, trembling as she continued. “You have no idea what it’s like… to constantly wonder if the people who love you will stop when they finally see you for who you really are.”

The raw vulnerability in her words cut through you like a knife. God, it pained you to see her like this. Without hesitation, you rose from your seat and moved to her side. Kneeling down, you gently placed your fingers under her chin, lifting her face so she could meet your gaze.

“Oh, love,” you murmured, your voice soft yet steady. “I will never, ever leave you. Not now, not ever. Do you hear me?” You brushed away the tears streaming down her face, your touch gentle and reassuring. “You are enough, Hyun-ju. You’re more than enough. You’re the bravest woman I know. You’ve fought battles most people couldn’t even imagine, and you’ve come out stronger every time.”

You gave her a soft smile, hoping it could reach the cracks in her heart. “You’re my Hyun-ju. The one who fills my life with warmth and love. The one who makes those incredible meals so I don’t have to spend a dime eating out. And the one who makes me laugh when I don’t even think I can smile.”

Your thumb stroked her cheek as you looked into her tear-filled eyes. “I don’t care what the world thinks, or what anyone says. I see you, Hyun-ju. I love you. Every single part of you. And nothing, nothing will ever change that.”

In that moment, you weren’t just offering her words—you were offering her a piece of your soul, a promise that no matter what storms came your way, you would face them together.

“I love you, Hyun-ju. All of you. Your body, your personality—everything. I love you,” you whispered, your voice steady and filled with sincerity.

You leaned in slowly, giving her a moment to meet you halfway. As your lips met hers, the kiss was tender, a gentle melding of emotions rather than just a physical gesture. It was soft but full of meaning, as if you were pouring all the love, reassurance, and devotion you felt into that single moment.

Her lips trembled against yours, and you could feel the faint taste of salt from her tears, but neither of you pulled away. Instead, you cupped her face with both hands, your thumbs brushing away the wet trails on her cheeks. She responded hesitantly at first, as though afraid to believe this was real, but then her hands found their way to your arms, holding onto you as though grounding herself in your presence.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads pressed together, her breath mingling with yours. “You’re my everything, Hyun-ju,” you said softly, gazing into her tearful eyes. “Always.”

“I love you too.”

You smiled softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. “How about I buy you that favorite dessert of yours?” you offered, your voice light and filled with affection.

Taking her hand in yours, you gave it a reassuring squeeze before flashing her a smile—one of those rare, genuine smiles that you saved just for her. It was the kind of smile that spoke volumes, one that told her she was cherished, loved, and safe with you.

As you walked out of the café, your gaze lingered on Hyun-ju, unable to help but admire her once more. You silently thanked the gods for blessing you with such a wonderful partner, vowing to do anything for her.

a/n . i told myself I was going to make a part two of mesmerized but I honestly got kind of lazy...and this prompt I could not stop thinking about it. This is my first time writing angst since i'm more of a writer who loves writing tooth rottening fluff....LOL

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l-in-the-light · 2 days ago

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This cultural mechanism of denying humanity of certain individuals (most often villains) has a name. Rene Girard wrote about it in his book called The Scapegoat. I tried finding ANY reblog of this post which actually mentions this, but despite scrolling through at least half of reblogs, I couldn't find it, which means even if someone did point it out then it still went pretty much unnoticed.

We all know who or what a scapegoat is. It's that thing or that person, the root of evil, the source of chaos, the troublemaker, the trickster disrupting the long established safety and order (which is, ofc, the ultimate good). If you only get rid of the problematic individual, everything will be okay again. That's how it works. But there's a problem with it. There's never one scapegoat. After one comes another, and another, and another, till you get hundreds and thousands of them and you can't fit them in one neat grave or prison anymore. They keep coming and there will be more and more of them, this will never stop, because it's a cycle. A cycle of violence. If you really want for "things to be okay", you need to break that cycle, instead of finding YET another scapegoat, yet another villain to bury for all of our sins. By sacrficing another villain, another victim, another scapegoat on the altar of society, you only support the cycle to keep on going.

Yes, you heard me right. Villains are scapegoats. But victims ARE scapegoats as well. Anyone we forcefully silence and refuse to give agency to is the scapegoat. The homeless, the LGBT, the mentally different, any disabled people etc. Anyone who fits into a very broad category of "otherness". But here's the catch. Because this category is so broad it's very easy to become that "other". That's why people are willing to go to extreme lengths just to make sure no one sees them as "other". They will deny their disabilities, they will deny they're not like those "others", they will even deny their own struggles, just to fit into the safe mold of "normal". And if you silence yourself just because you're afraid you might be the next one victimized or villainized, you're also a scapegoat, btw. Your inner life and self-consistency is the sacrifice on the altar of society that doesn't care if you actually have a heart. All it cares about is for you to make sure you're "normal", which has a very murky definition too. Who's normal? The one who acts like the majority of others? The one who has the applause? (applause can be shortlived and depends on trends, it's dangerous, you're dancing on the edge). Every time we see someone as the "other" we judge, we're scapegoating them. Yes, all of us, by succumbing to our fear of being judged, contribute to this mechanism. Otherwise the seams of the society might fall apart and we can all turn against each other, we can rip apart the system, they warn us of anarchy, you might get killed in the middle of the street, there will be no police to guard the order, no prisons to keep the bad eggs away from you. Stay quiet, endure, it's for the safety of all of us.

No one should have to carry that weight of the whole world on their own shoulders. Not like this. But we do, every single day.

We're all capable of being bad people and often are. But we also all want to believe we're good. People think if someone didn't get love there's a reason of why they didn't receive it. That belief didn't come out of nowhere. It's internalized violence and judgemental mentality. You prefer to doom someone else as long as it saves yourself from being doomed. You're not only hurting others with it, but YOURSELF as well in the process. You get rid of your true empathy for others, you decide whose pain or suffering is the one "worthy" of acceptance and which is not and needs to be condemned. You can't afford that empathy for anyone else than you after a while, after all you live in constant, silent fear of "being next" if you just stop for a moment and look too long at the scapegoats buried around you. And what you fail to see is that you're also a scapegoat. If we all accept each other and ourselves as "others", if we're all just different people and no one is normal anymore, will this finally break the cycle?

You want to feel like a good person? Of course, we all do. But you can't achieve that if you're too afraid to look into the abyss/mirror and realize you also do bad things. You also need to redeem yourself. You can do better, but it's not easy. You know what's easy instead? Finding a scapegoat and blaming them for their own misery. Literally requires no work, the world will applause you and all you need to do is repeat same words after others. The mechanism works like a perpetuum mobile at this point, it will mostly do this job for you. Just take a stand, deem the villains, blame the victims, ignore the struggles and pain of others.

But here's the catch. If you're too cold, you're also gonna be judged and called a psychopath. That's also a no-no, you're becoming the unacceptable "other" again. You have to show, in specific, allowed circumenstances, that you feel sorry for others. That you know how to choose the "right" side. That you understand "good" needs sacrfices and sometimes you're even expected to cry for them. And if you see those sacrfices as not-human "others", it's easier to accept it all.

Many people claim how scary it is to face certain truths, like "victims can turn into villains too", but the real truth no one wants to face is actually this: we allowed this to happen. We allowed the villains to be formed, all of us. Every time we engage in judgemental actions, every time we police someone dealing with their pain "in wrong way", every time we call someone "born evil". Every time we point a finger and call someone a villain, a victim, a barbarian, the other. By doing that we trap them in endless world of pain and suffering and abuse. They also want to be out of that cycle, but we keep trapping them, by silencing them and adding our own narrative on top. They suffer for our sins. Because they're our scapegoat, the sacrifice we made to keep on going, thinking how good this world is and how much worse it could have been, just look in the right places. Just don't look at the scapegoats too long. They corrupt. Maybe their otherness is even contagious, so stay as far away from them as possible.

You're allowed to be mad about this, btw. Anger is a neccessary emotion, it points at injustice done to you. But the society wants you to throw that emotion away and supress it, so you're tamed and silenced. It might even create a "safe space" to vent it out, by encouragig you into physical activities or taking part in some entertainment, so you can lose your steam in a way that doesn't challenge the system. It's a distraction. (the point here isn't to condemn sport or popculture btw, it just serves as an example, ok?)

All communities work like this. We're all trapped in endless cycle of violence. We bury endless scapegoats under our communities, they become our foundations. After all, nothing unites different people better than finding a common villain, it's us (the good) vs them (the evil). Wait, did I just say "different people"? But we're supposed to be all the same! No, that's a myth. We were all always different. We just have to choose who is "more different than others", so we can unite ourselves against them.

You know what that reminds me of? "We're all equal. But some are more equal than others". Animal farm was about power structures. By accepting easy scapegoats, by abiding to this mechanism, we support the power system that oppresses us. Think about it. Our civilisation is build on this and it would not thrive the way it did without the scapegoats.

And all of you blaming christianity for this instead, you need to understand one thing. What Jesus taught was actually the reverse of scapegoating. “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her”. This is literally Jesus telling people "you all have sinned, so why are you judging them if you don't judge yourself?". What you all mean by christian/puritanist beliefs is how christianity got distorted and institutionalized into a power abusing system called religion. Swallowed up by what it tried to fight against. Always identify the actual source of abuse, instead of doing more scapegoating. I'm in no way inclined to defend christianity (not in the form it exists now), but also if we keep on muddling the truth we will always make the same mistake, so, always dig deeper to avoid it. Thank you.

not to post even more Villains Discourse on main but it really bugs me how people read giving villains tragic backstories as inherently excusing their actions and/or demonizing trauma survivors.

the actual message of Tragic Villains is (almost) always “people who are never taught or given any healthy, constructive outlets for their emotions will often find unhealthy, destructive outlets.” it’s that people who are traumatized and never learn how to cope with that trauma can become a danger to themselves and others. the message isn’t “trauma makes you evil!!!!” or “genocide is okay if you’ve been sad before!!!!” it’s “people need compassion and help to recover from trauma instead of becoming increasingly angry and harming themselves and others in the process.”

this site takes an alarmingly behaviorist and punitive approach to everything and it’s literally the most annoying thing. y’all have this concept that “if we just punish people hard enough, if we just scare them enough, if we just make them feel guilty enough.” that people just Do Bad Things Because They Do Bad Things, I Guess, and Because We Didn’t Threaten Them And Shame Them Enough. but humans are an innately social species. at our very core, we need compassion and kindness. we need healthy relationships with other humans.

you can keep looking at traumatized villains and being like “haha this dumb pathetic sadboi thinks murder is okay because his parents died” but as a survivor myself, unaddressed/untreated trauma absolutely can make you ragey and destructive. i was lucky enough to have support and eventually get the treatment i needed. but it’s not hard at all for me to imagine how, if that hadn’t been the case, that could’ve been me. obviously not on a movie-villain scale like murder or war crimes, but it’s so irritating as someone whose trauma has always manifested as anger to watch people on this site be like “this is just bad writing!!! real survivors/good survivors don’t end up like that the writers just hate survivors and want the audience to condone murder!”

#I have more thoughts about redemption boundaries consent prisons and power in general #but I just wanted people to know about the scapegoat mechanism and the cycle of violence so this post will have to do without #just please we have to understand one distinction here: just because someone hurt us doesn't mean we have to excuse that person #you need to draw that boundary but you can do that without scapegoating #and you don't actually have to forgive anyone #we don't have to constantly scapegoat someone in fear of not being scapegoated ourselves #we can understand someone did a bad thing because they were coping in bad way #and at the same time not villainize them and condemn them and deny them humanity and silence them #yet we're allowed to not want them anywhere near us at the same time #this can coexist. that's what boundaries are for!#scapegoat #cycle of violence #rene girard #power structures #anthropology #anthropology of otherness #philosophy #sounds like controversial conspiracy theory post? I'm not actually sorry for this #I'm used to the fact that lots of philosophical subjects sound like conspiracy to people lol #I could write whole thesis about scapegoating in cultures #there is just so much material and angles to it #all I did here was explain the very basic mechanism of the cycle of violence and how it feeds on itself #it's just the tip of the iceberg #I couldn't even touch on how the scapegoats get dehumanized for the sake of the system #yes victims are dehumanized as well which is why people try to change the discourse and use words like “survivor” instead of “victim”#to reclaim the human status back #in summary: you choose people who stand out; ostracize them; and in time of crisis put the blame on them #no one will defend them but instead unite against them; the conflict gets resolved by cutting the scapegoat off #everyone is happy again (besides the scapegoats ofc)#I'm sure you saw this process repeated to no end (video games? blamed for making kids violent; abuser? provoked by the victim etc.)

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gothicfied · 2 days ago

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Thanos / Player 230 Headcanons

Paring: Thanos / Player 230 x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying and gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, although this is probably buns (my first time writing something like this, I'm sorry, people😔🙏)

જ⁀➴ In his mind, you were this little lamb who needed his protection. Even if you proved yourself to be capable of surviving on your own, Thanos was set on dragging you with him, insisting that it'd be better if you would just stick with his group (much to your and also Nam-gyus annoyance). And, considering he was ready to sacrifice other peoples lives for this prize money, you were scared to refuse him.

જ⁀➴ At some point, you found it endearing how much he seemed to care for you. His cheesy raps about you, his pet names - 'baby', 'princess', 'sweetheart' - the way he was actually putting in the effort to get you through the games, ready to sacrifice a 'friend' (poor Gyeong-su).. you couldn't help but relish the affection he was showing you.

જ⁀➴ It was nice feeling something other than fear and dread, so you couldn't help but entertain Thanos' feelings. Perhaps you weren't just entertaining them? It was hard to ignore the growing connection between you two. Especially when he seemed to open up more and more, especially after lights out.

જ⁀➴ When the drugs wore off, Thanos was actually nice to talk to. At night, he'd come and sit on your bed, comforting you if you were scared (which you very obviously were). Draping an arm around your shoulders, he'd listen to every worry, thought and wish you have and would just stay quiet for those moments (which was very rare and made you appreciate these moments even more).

જ⁀➴ For some reason, you two understand each other. Sure, when high, Thanos was insufferable, loud and annoying and would do every stupid thing imaginable just to impress you. He'd play risky during the games, just to never shut up about how he survived it and how 'he would never die and leave you alone'. After that, the moments where he seemed to be vulnerable meant that much more to you.

જ⁀➴ Thanos' confidence is unwavering. He'd be relentless and would chase after you, regardless if you wanted it or not. In his opinion, you two were the most perfect match and he'd do anything to be able to call you his. Your beauty, your determination and the way you carried yourself simply mesmerized him.

જ⁀➴ After every game you two survived, he'd pull you close to him, tightly wrapping his arms around you and hug you until you couldn't properly breath anymore. "I'm so happy you made it out alive, princess. God, I couldn't imagine what I would do without you in here!"

જ⁀➴ Even with you there with him, Thanos needs that prize money. Would he sacrifice you for it? Never in a million years. Does he still pressure you into voting to continue? Yes, absolutely.

"Come on, baby! Just one more game, I promise." He snakes his arms around your waist, leaning down while talking, "you know I'll protect you. And with the money, we can build a new, happy lives together. What do you say?"

જ⁀➴ Seeing you scared expression while loud gunshots filled the room during the mingle game does something to him, though. Thanos' eyes bore into yours, making you look away quickly. He needs that money, he knows you do, too. But seeing you so distraught might actually make hin change his mind about wanting to continue. After all, he's completely head over heels for you and he'd do everything not to lose you.

#squid game #thanos #squid games #squid game season 2 #thanos x reader #player 230 #player 230 x reader #squid game x reader #squid games x reader #t.o.p #squid game fanfic

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makeitmakesomesense · 3 days ago

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The Early Morning

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Day 5: I've merged a lovely request from a lovely friend with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 5th of January, which is 'blind'.

It is just past the middle of the night. You have officially entered the early morning. You find yourself awake. You went to sleep right after your last mission. This is your consequence.

You don’t try to fight it, instead you roll out of your bed and make your way to get something to drink. Ever since Vision and Wanda have become part of the Avengers, things have been a little different. You’ve all done your best to welcome them to the team, but they have kept to themselves far more than you expected. The changing dynamics have been something to adjust to.

You let yourself enjoy the easy peace of the quiet nighttime.

You walk to the kitchen and freeze for a second.

Wanda is sitting at the dining table. Her hair is wet. Her face is ashen and her hands are cupping a hot mug of tea. Her eyes flit wearily to you.

You hesitate, not sure how to approach. You’ve never spoken to her alone.

‘You okay?’

Wanda turns back to her tea, she doesn’t answer.

You watch the ends of her hair drip onto the tiled floor.

You refill the kettle and turn it on. You take a seat next to her.

Wanda’s wearing a grey sweater. It’s too big for her. The sleeves have ridden up and her forearms are exposed. Goosebumps coat her skin.

You try again. Something more direct.

‘Are you cold?’

Wanda’s eyes meet yours and you know that she is.

The kettle boils and you stand up, your hand touches her shoulder as you pass by. You feel her shudder.

You bring her a new mug. The steam curls promisingly above the liquid. Wanda leans over it. Her hands wrap around the ceramic, even though it must be burning hot. She shudders again and closes her eyes.

You sit next to her with your own mug and think.

Dim light seeps through the large windows and illuminates Wanda’s face. Her eyes have dark shadows under them. You can tell she must not be sleeping. You wonder where Vision is.

As if she can read your thoughts (and you can’t help wondering if she can). Wanda answers your silent question.

‘Viz doesn’t sleep. Not like people do. It’s more... robotic.’

You picture immediately a long cable connecting the android to a computer. You push down the ridiculous image that's probably not so far from the truth. You nod at Wanda silently encouraging her to continue.

‘At night, he goes offline. Really offline. Missiles could go off and he’d be blind to it.’

You try to understand the subtext of Wanda’s words. There’s a strange suspense to your next question, it is the possibility that she might say yes.

‘Do you worry about that? About missiles going off?’

Wanda smiles at you. Her head tilts. It could be playful if her eyes weren’t full of pain.

‘It’s all I worry about.’

You give a half smile back, you know it doesn’t reach your eyes.

‘I’ve done all my sleeping for tonight.’ You tell her carefully. ‘If you want someone there… someone awake. I was going to watch a movie anyway and I can put on headphones.’

Wanda takes her first sip of the slowly cooling tea.

‘Thank you.’ She says a moment later, her small smile now weighted with relief.

Wanda follows you back to your room that night. She waits for you to prop some pillows against the headboard and lie back on one side of the bed. She falls readily onto the other side of the mattress.

She’s not self conscious, not like you’d half expected.

She sinks into the bed like it’s been calling her for days. You listen to her breathing even out before you put on your headphones.

It becomes a routine of sorts. Your new sleep schedule is not nearly as difficult as you expect. You switch your mindless after-dinner screen time with an early nap.

Wanda knocks on your door in the early hours of each morning. You plug in some headphones and watch whatever film you can think of.

Wanda lies beside you. Now that the worst of the sleep deprivation has abated, she is slower to fall asleep. Sometimes you even talk for a few minutes, about the day before or the film you’re planning to watch.

It’s easy to talk to Wanda, much easier than you ever expected. You try to understand the distance she’s always kept from everyone on the team except Vision.

Each morning, you wait patiently for the inevitable long pause in coversation, for the moment that her eyelids slowly start to close.

There is something comforting about her steady breathing beside you.

It is too easy to be comfortable. Despite your best efforts, it only takes a week for you to become lulled to near sleep yourself.

You’re not quite asleep, you’re still following along with the dialogue from the movie. But your mind has drifted and your eyes have closed.

They fly open at the first feeling of movement beside you. You startle suddenly as you understand your inadvertent mistake. You move backwards unthinkingly and hit your head sharply on the edge of the headboard.

You hiss out and apologise automatically.

Wanda is still lying in the bed next to you, she has turned to face you. Her head is resting on the pillow. She looks exhausted with a different kind of fatigue. She sits up very carefully, as if her presence is inherently scary.

You don’t know how to explain. That your automatic panic came only from the disorientation of nearly falling asleep by mistake.

Wanda speaks before you can. Her mouth twists into the same bitter smile that you’ve seen once before. She is watching you rub the sore spot at the back of your head.

‘It’s your amygdala.’ She explains.

‘What?’ You ask unsurely.

‘That’s why you’re afraid.’

‘My amygdala.’ You repeat dumbly.

‘Yes. Vision explained it once. It’s what makes you afraid of me, even if you don’t want to be.’ Her words are rehearsed. They sound calm but you can hear something else simmering behind them. ‘Your amygdala knows the danger that comes with being near me.’

‘And what about Vision’s amygdala?’ You ask sharply, suddenly hating the implications of her words. ‘How does he manage?’

‘It’s synthetic.’

‘That’s lucky.’ You comment dryly.

She stares at you seriously. An overwhelming loneliness fills her eyes.

‘Yes.’ Wanda says quietly, looking down at the bedspread. ‘It is.’

You watch Wanda leave.

You spend the day caught between a wish to apologise and a lingering uncertainty that something else is wrong. Something more complicated than you’d realised.

You seek out Natasha in the end, trusting her advice and needing someone to speak to. You find her as she’s leaving a boardroom after a meeting. She invites you back into the room and you sit together. You start to tell her about Wanda. You try to state the facts. The sleep deprivation. Vision’s words. Her isolation from the team.

You hope you don’t sound biased, you hope your concern doesn’t seem excessive.

Natasha’s lips twist and you can tell she doesn’t like the details either. She tells you other things, small moments she’s noticed. Their separate meals from the rest of you. His frequent appearances in Wanda’s room without warning. How it's the one thing he can’t seem to learn not to do. A sudden lengthy monologue about the benefits of Stark’s technology, unaware of Wanda stiffened posture beside him.

You exchange a long look with Natasha, it holds something that you recognise in your bones.

You decide to worry together.

That night you find Wanda before the time she usually comes to your room. It is just past midnight and she is sitting at the dining table. Her dark hair is wet again.

She startles violently when you call her name. Her shoulders relax immediately as she turns to find you.

Wanda stands suddenly and moves to the kitchen counter. You watch her refill the kettle and turn it on. She takes out two mugs. She smiles at you again. There’s relief in it.

‘Good evening.’ She says at last. Her fingers tap out a steady rhythm against the marble countertop.

She notices you watching and her hand stills suddenly. She stares down at her fingers. Her mouth closes and her jaw ticks. She is lost in thought. You know she is remembering your last encounter.

This time, you speak first. You start slowly.

‘I’m not afraid of you.’ You tell her carefully.

Wanda doesn’t look up. You watch the familiar bitter smile that makes your gut twist unhappily.

‘Then you are not paying attention.’ She says simply.

‘I am.’ You counter stubbornly.

‘We can’t change who we are.’ Her voice is monotone and you can tell that she is quoting someone else. ‘We can’t relinquish the dangers that comes with our power.’

‘But we can always have family.’ Your argument is quiet. ‘We can still have love and care. We can forgive ourselves for who we are.’

Wanda goes very still. After a moment, she reaches for the kettle that has now boiled. You watch her pour the water into the two waiting mugs.

‘Vision -’ She begins at last, looking at you unsurely. ‘It’s hard’

‘What is?’

She hands you a mug of tea and you watch her grip her own drink like it’s a life support system.

‘He would never do the things I’ve done.’ Her voice cracks with barely repressed guilt. ‘It can be hard to not feel alone.’

You drink your tea and watch her for a moment. Wanda's breathing is shallow. Her pupils have dilated in the dim light. Her dark eyes are watching you, waiting.

‘I would’ve.’ You confess softly. ‘If I’d been you. I think I would have done the same things.’

A thousand emotions flit through Wanda's expression. It settles somewhere between fear and longing.

You move forward and place your mug on the countertop, carefully you take Wanda’s from her too. When her hands are free, you hold them gently in your own.

She grips them tightly. You can feel her shaking.

‘Do you want to get out of here?’ You offer softly. ‘Just for a few days. We can borrow a car. We can go right now.’

Wanda is so close to you now. You feel the hitch in her breath as you much as you hear it.

Wanda’s expression fills with the same look of longing and she glances outside at the full moon that is brightening the darkest part of the night.

‘Viz’ll wake up soon.’ She hesitates. ‘He hates it when I leave this place.’

You shake your head. You give her a small smile. ‘Natasha said they’re using his offline time tonight to update some of his old programming. Getting rid of some of the biases that Tony created back when it was only Jarvis.’

You pause. Wanda is looking at you like the world is something new again.

‘We have time.’ You tell her and it feels like a promise.

Her small smile is full of sudden happiness.

Wanda leans forward and her head rests against your shoulder. There is a weightlessness to her tired relief.

You are grateful that your amygdala is very real. That you can feel this entirely.

‘Okay’ She says finally against your shirt. ‘Do you mind if I sleep while you drive?’

You laugh and wrap your arms around her. The wet ends of her hair drip onto your arms.

You leave the Compound before the sun has risen.

Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader

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djotime-allthetime · 2 days ago

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Freaky Redheads

synopsis: interactions between you and fred hechinger at a red carpet event for gladiator ii.

wc: 2.5+

rpf!!! don't like, don't read!!!

a/n: i love that soft, sweet, adorable man with all of my heart. my inspiration is how fred talks about sherry. the monkey. i'm down bad bro.

italics are supposed to be comments under tiktok clips of these interviews. i definitely have more in mind for these two, but we'll see how this goes. feedback is writer's fuel!

cross posted on AO3

The flashing cameras and yelling reporters have started to become the new normal, which was so not normal for you. You couldn't believe how far you'd come.

Granted, your role in the movie was definitely more in the supporting cast territory, but you couldn't deny how massive the production was. But even as a supporting actress, you still had quite a bit of screen time as the unnamed favorite concubine to Emperor Caracalla.

The fans who knew you called out your name from behind the velvet ropes and you smiled and waved as you walked by.

"y/n! y/n! Over here!" A reporter called out. You nodded and smiled as you approached, indicating your acceptance of the carpet-side interview. Your agent had warned you that not every journalist might want to speak with you and that you should accept any interview you came by. Thankfully, as the start of your night would show, that wasn't the case.

"Hello!" You beamed, coming to a stop in front of the camera. The reporter greeted you back and handed you a microphone glued to a mini Romanesque column. "Oh, wow. I love the microphone!"

"Thank you," She smiled. With a quick glance at her blouse, you saw a name tag that said 'MTV UK: Claire'. "It was my idea, actually."

"Incredibly creative! They should give you a raise, Claire."

"If you wouldn't mind saying that directly into the camera..." Claire trailed off with a chuckle and a mischievous glint to her eye.

You shot the camera as serious a look as you could muster. "MTV, if you do not give this woman a raise, I will riot in the streets."

"Alright alright, enough of that." Claire laughed out loud with a few shakes of her head. "You look absolutely stunning!"

"Oh, this old thing?" You smiled bashfully, grabbing at your skirt to twirl it around. The styling department had made sure that all the gowns worn during press had some Roman inspiration behind them. The piece you were wearing was off white in color, representing your character's position in society. Even with your character in mind, your dress was still breathtaking. The gown was composed of yards and yards of fabric, giving it this dreamy, flowy silhouette. The neckline was so beautiful, in the cowl style and draped ever so slightly off your shoulders. To say that you loved it would be an understatement. "Thank you very much, you look amazing yourself."

"But you are on a different level!" Claire gasped, no doubt to return the topic to you. Just like you were media trained, the reporters were too. "What was the thought process behind your look tonight?"

Your eyes lit up as this was something you had wanted to talk about. "Well, the styling department and I actually workshopped this look together. Of course we wanted it to be glamorous, this is the red carpet after all. But we also wanted to show the character through the outfits, you know?" She nodded along.

"Right, your character was quite impactful even with the few lines you had." Claire added, and you smiled in thanks.

"Yeah, thank you." You felt your face heat up at the compliment. "We wanted to still be true to her, under all the glitz and glamour. So that's why we went with the understated color, to not only show her position in society but also her demeanor throughout the film."

"But your jewellery is anything but understated." She laughed.

"Yeah, I couldn't help myself." You laughed with her.

"Give us a quick tour."

You were almost dripping in gold, from your head to your toes. "We've got the hair piece." You brought a hand up to show the gold pins connected with chains littering your up-do. "Earrings upon earrings, all hoops." You pulled a strand back to show off your right ear clearly. Some were clip on earrings as you didn't have quite enough piercings to get them all. "The necklaces, of course. Some bracelets, some rings. But I think this cuff on my upper arm is my favorite."

"And these are all borrowed pieces from different brands?"

"Most of them are, yes." You confirmed with a nod. "But some are from my private collection. And some I might steal." You joked, getting a laugh out of Claire.

"Well, you really knocked it out of the park." Claire smiled, a tone of finality in her voice that showed you the interview was coming to a close. "And before we let you go, we've got one question we're asking everyone tonight. I think we can all agree that the cast of this movie is full of beautiful men." You giggled, a bit surprised at the turn in topic. "But people on the internet have separated them into two categories."

"Oh, have they now?" You asked, unaware of what she was talking about.

"Yes, they have. Gen Z has divided them into the brooding brunets and the freaky redheads." She explained, pulling up two little hand held signs. One with Paul Mescal and Pedro Pascal, the brooding brunets, and the other with Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger, the freaky redheads.

You couldn't contain the surprised laugh that escaped you at the sight of their little printed faces. "Oh my goodness!"

"So, as the resident Gen Z-er on the cast, who is your pick?"

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm the only representation of Gen Z here." You mused as you grabbed both the signs from Claire. You lifted up the 'freaky redheads' sign and pointed to Fred. "My friend is right there with me in the Gen Z territory."

"Alright, as the representation of Gen Z women, which team is more your style?" Claire asked as you studied the signs. "People are saying they went into the movie for the brunets and came out converted to team redheads."

"That's actually really funny," You chuckled as you looked down at both signs. "This is hard." You mumbled. A small smirk found itself on your lips as you thought of Fred seeing this clip later. Someone no doubt showing it to him, as he wouldn't find it on his own. "I feel like- yeah." You nodded with determination. "I'm gonna have to go with Fred- I'm going with team freaky redheads." You nodded. "I think it would be treacherous otherwise."

"Good choice. You'd break Emperor Caracalla's heart."

"And then he'd have my head." You laughed, stepping back. "Thank you for your great questions."

"Thank you for your time." Claire waved as you walked away. "We're gonna have a tally going throughout the night, and we'll see who wins. Team brooding brunets, or team freaky redheads." You heard her say to the camera as you moved further down the carpet.

'She looks so pretty!!'

'i love the thought process behind the outfit, you can tell she really loved her character'

'the reporter asked y/n if she prefers lucius and acacius or geta and caracalla and this girl really said FRED 💀'

'i love seeing new faces in hollywood, give young new actors a chance!!' ↳ 'right?? im so sick of them recycling the same actors for every big budget movie'

'she mentioned fred, not caracalla, twice, unprompted. i see you, y/n. you're just like us.' ↳ 'have you seen his interviews? he's literally the cutest i cant blame her 🥺'

A few steps down, another reporter flagged you down. This time, the questions were more centered around the acting itself.

"And was it difficult? In a previous interview, you've said that your character's growth was significant, but she had almost no lines in the movie."

"Yeah, I think in the final cut she only has... three lines?" You winced, looking upwards as you tried to recall what was and wasn't cut. "Though I'm not sure."

"So there were scenes where she could've said more?"

"Oh yeah, for sure! There was a lot of experimentation with my character throughout filming. Ridley's a genius and he was kind enough to truly take in my suggestions. There were times where I felt like she would actually stay quiet during a scene, whereas other times I felt like she would speak up. But yeah," You breathed in and furrowed your brows in thought as you tried to focus your answer back to the original question. "It was definitely a challenge. I had to really work on my micro-expressions. Lots of research, lots of practice. And lots of trust, too. With a character like mine, I really relied on Fr- on my fellow actors in those scenes. So yeah, definitely challenging. But who doesn’t love a good challenge?"

"And did you take any inspiration from other people's work? Any source material that helped you out as you built your character?"

"Of course!" You smiled, a hint of humor in your tone as you thought of your response. "Yeah, I did. Actually, one of the biggest inspirations for my role, believe it or not, was Ferb. From 'Phineas and Ferb'."

"The- The children's show?" The interviewer questioned with a grin.

"Yeah, Ridley thought it was brilliant!" You laughed. "We watched compilations of Ferb scenes on youtube together. And I know that Fred- Fred Hechinger, who plays Emperor Caracalla-, he also brought up Sid Vicious with Ridley, as well as other sources like that. Sir Ridley Scott has great taste, there's no denying that."

'ferb as inspiration for a movie like this,,, gen z in the film industry really are the gift that keeps on giving'

'im just imagining y/n and ridley scott curled up on the couch watching phineas and ferb reruns. that man is 86 years old. this is brilliant.'

'bro didn't even have to say anything and y/n still brought up fred 💀'

'the gen z cast members making ridley scott watch cartoons is sending me'

'not her pretending she didn't mean to say fred when she talked about trust, we all heard you y/n'

Unbeknownst to you, Fred's interviews were going much like yours, only a few feet behind you on the carpet.

"You look amazing today!" Claire, the same reporter you spoke to, told Fred during his first interview on the carpet.

"Thank you, thank you." He replied bashfully as he tried to subtly look around for you, but he couldn't see you just yet. "Everyone looks so great, everyone."

She asked him a few questions and then came time for her ending segment.

"Alright, to close off, we've got a little game here."

"A game?" Fred smiled with raised brows. "I love games." He said softly, not realizing that the microphone would pick it up.

"Yes, a quick one. You just have to choose between team brooding brunets and team freaky redheads. We've asking everyone to join."

"Woah!" Fred exclaimed as he received the signs. "That's me." He pointed out his own face in the picture of him and Joseph. "What are we basing our choice on here?"

"Well, the internet is battling on who is more attractive."

"Oh my god." Fred chortled, not expecting that answer. "Who's played the game?" He asked, still examining the hand held signs.

"As of now, we've spoken to Joseph Quinn, Connie Nielsen, and y/n l/n." Claire recounted.

Fred's eyes lit up and his cheeks reddened at the mention of your name. "And what's the- what's the consensus so far?"

"It's two to one. Can you guess who's in the lead?" Claire asked.

"Let me think... Well, Joseph -my brother-, he definitely voted for us." He pondered aloud as he counted the votes off on his fingers. "Connie... I think Connie went for team brunets. I mean, it's her husband. She's gotta." He grinned when it came to you. "y/n chose me, right? We're in the lead?"

"Yeah, you're right on all counts! You really know your cast members." Claire laughed. "y/n didn't want to anger Emperor Caracalla."

"Oh, she couldn't. I’ve got too much of a soft spot for her." Fred shook his head emphatically.

"So, are you keeping team redheads in the lead? Or will you give us a tie?"

"No, I'm going team redheads!" Fred exclaimed. "I'm not helping out my competition, no way!"

'this man has bewitched me with his beautiful eyes and calming demeanor'

'he always calls joe his brother im CRYINGGG'

'did you see his face when they mention y/n, this man can't hide his crush for the life of him 🥺' ↳ 'neither can she lol'

'what do yall know about fred hechinger 🗣️🗣️🗣️'

'fred immediately knowing that y/n chose him, kill me right now.' ↳ 'mind you the choice was caracalla. she still said 'fred' and he said 'me'. can they be more obvious?'

'the way this man said 'i love games' protect him at all costs'

‘he said ‘i’ve got a soft spot for her’ is this the year of men yearning?’ ↳ ‘it’s just the paul mescal effect’

It was during his next interview that he saw you. He was talking about his experience building the character of Emperor Caracalla with Sir Ridley Scott as well as Joseph Quinn when he finally caught sight of you. You had spent a bit longer with a specific reporter down the carpet, causing Fred to catch up to you.

“Of course, y/n was a great help as well.” He smiled, reaching over to brush against your elbow to catch your attention. At the perfect time, too, because you had just finished talking to the reporter in front of you.

“Oh, Fred!” You beamed, coming over to give him a hug.

“Look at you.” Fred spoke against your shoulder. He pulled away from the hug and brought you into his side in front of the camera, almost like he was showing you off. “Look at her, isn’t she stunning.”

“Stop it,” you rolled your eyes as you tried your best not to show how his compliment affected you. “I’m sorry for interrupting, I just had to say hello.”

“No worries,” the reporter reassured you. “Fred was actually saying how you helped with the building of his character.”

“Yeah, we worked really closely during pre-production actually.” You nodded, acutely aware of Fred’s hands on you. He had one hand casually tucked into his pocket while his other arm draped across your waist, his hand resting against your hip. “My character was almost like Caracalla’s sidekick, so the motives for all her actions are really based around him.”

“I’d argue that she was more of a mirror, actually.” You turned to look at Fred, never passing up an opportunity to hear his view on these things. “She’s the complete opposite of Caracalla, but in a way she represents who he truly is under all the pressure of being in Geta’s shadow.”

“And under all the syphilis, of course.” You added, causing Fred to giggle.

“Yeah, and under the syphilis.”

‘he seems like such a sweet guy 🥺’

‘did you see his face when he saw her??? 😫😫😫 theyre in love, your honor’

‘him showing her off like that is peak soft boyfriend behavior’

‘they just called me single in seven different languages’

‘his laugh is actually so cute, who is this man and why am i in love with him? 😍’ ↳ 'get in line' ↳'behind y/n, you mean?'

‘the way he’s touching her???? im just gonna go take a nap in front of an oncoming train’

‘im calling it, new hollywood it couple’

‘look at how he looks at her!!! may this love find me 🙏’

#fred hechinger #fred hechinger x reader #emperor caracalla #fred hechinger gladiator #gladiator ii #rpf #fred hechinger x you #emperor caracalla x reader #this fic didn't fit the vibe of my other blogs #and this blog is barren #just one rpf fic #so i guess it works here #might change the aesthetic tho #another day #thoughts comments concerns?#please feel free to share #this has been the plot for all my mal-adaptive daydreaming as of late #so i genuinely have a whole life written for these two #as well as a rewrite of the gladiator script to include y/n's character #havent been this in love with an actor in yeeeeeaaaarsss #wrote this in like 2 hours and am hitting post no lie #i usually ruminate on stuff like this for a while but i just love this man so much #anyways #if youve read all these tags send me a blueberry emoji in my ask box #paul mescal #joseph quinn #pedro pascal #connie nielsen #ridley scott #sir ridley scott

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naamahdarling · 1 day ago

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This makes me livid.

I'm not going to assume this family wasn't knowledgeable or doing their utmost. I'm assuming they were doing everything they could.

But I need you to know.

This is not how it has to be, and there are things you can do to prevent this. Please do them so that you aren't stuck hoping to die or hoping your loved one will die.

If you or a loved one has a lot of medical debt or you know they will incur it, check laws in your state. Know your rights. We should not have to do this, but WE DO.

A person's will and how it is laid out has an effect on how and in what order debts are deducted from the estate, which can sometimes affect how much money beneficiaries get. If you have beneficiaries, get your wills in order! Get things set up to benefit debtors as little as possible. There are things that might be able to be done. If someone involved is disabled, find an estate lawyer experienced in their specific form of disability benefits (company, government/SSI/SSDI, etc.).

Spouses are NOT necessarily responsible for their partner's medical debt. The estate of the deceased IS, but individual debt collectors from clinics or care facilities are severely limited in what they are allowed to collect on from the actual survivors. DO NOT TRUST THEM IF THEY SAY THEY CAN. There are laws about them not being allowed to lie to you but they will still try. My ex worked in the industry for YEARS and was extremely aware of the predatory shit shady companies or even just shitty individual agents would pull. Never trust a debt collector. Ever. Know your rights, understand debt collection, record all calls.

In some cases, especially involving state funding of end of life care, and situations involving disabled folks (deceased or beneficiaries), the state may not legally be able to evict a survivor to collect that debt from the liquidated estate (i.e. selling the house after kicking you out).

Children are almost NEVER liable for ANY FORM OF parental debt.

Never ever ever pay a single penny on a debt you did not cosign or take on yourself. Do not even verbally acknowledge the debt on the phone. Claim to be unaware of it and state that it is not yours until they show proof. In general, unless it's trivial, and you do intend to pay right away or make arrangements right away, don't acknowledge even debts that are yours, not even verbally, until they have proven to you that you owe them, and force collectors to communicate leaving a paper trail and send you documentation of everything. Record calls using Talker ACR and Talker ACR Helper. If they say you have 90 days to dispute, wait 89 days and then dispute it, even if it is accurate and you know it. If the collector isn't the original place that owned the debt, insist the collection company show proof they own the debt. Contact the original place and see if you can still settle the debt there for less. Delay, deny, defend yourself. Draw things out as long as you can by their rules and seek legal advice. Fight. ACT LIKE THEY DO. BE A HORRIBLE PIECE OF OBSTRUCTIVE NITPICKING SHIT.

If you marry, get a pre-nup that lays out your debt arrangements, do it in a way that keeps your finances and debt as separate as possible. Pre-nups are not just for people who don't trust each other. They are a powerful tool to protect yourselves from predatory practices outside the marriage as well.

YOU CAN PROTECT YOURSELF AND YOUR LOVED ONES. YOU CAN PROTECT YOUR ASSETS. DO NOT LET THIS HORRIBLE SHIT HAPPEN UNOPPOSED, AND NEVER ASSUME THAT THE SYSTEM IS TOTALLY UNSTOPPABLE.

YOU PROBABLY CAN'T KEEP EVERYTHING BUT THEY DEFINITELY CAN'T TAKE EVERYTHING EITHER.

FUCKING FIGHT.

#also learn about your rights pertaining to funeral stuff #and never let them bilk you or upsell you #the words you want are 'direct cremation'#and if your parent or partner makes arrangements for funeral shit in their will that shit is paid for by the estate and not you #hammer this shit out in advance guys #so you can die or help your loved ones die in slightly more fucking peace #like no im not a lawyer and a lot depends on state and circumstance but you definitely have so many options they won't tell you about

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mrsimpurity · 2 days ago

Text

"AND I HIT IT LIKE IT’S ALL MINE" - satoru gojo

pairing: bestfriend!gojo x fem!reader

synopsis: having had enough of your 21 year long friendship with satoru, you come over in hopes of ending everything on somewhat good terms. things take a turn and after you make a heartfelt confession, satoru takes the last chance he might ever be offered

wc: 4.5k

warnings: dub con, manipulation, virginity loss, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, reader is naive, aftercare, cuddling, (gojo is a warning himself)

“you’re still friends with that guy?” shoko’s accusatory tone makes you sink in your seat in embarrassment. your little coffee date had been going well so far as the two of you had spent no less than two hours discussing absolutely everything that had happened this semester.

university and the stress which it provided, free of charge, was not the only thing that you and shoko shared. after stumbling upon her in one of the hallways on your very first day, the two of you found out that you had been assigned to the same dorm. soon enough, you and your roommate grew close and she became your most trusted friend.

of course though, she wasn’t your oldest friend. fate had decided you’d be tethered to one of the most (generally acknowledged) annoying men for your whole life. and this particular childhood best friend was your choice for conversation this time.

“we’re childhood friends, i can’t just ditch him.”

“babe, with your wellbeing in mind, you’re being a total idiot. he gives me the creeps.”

“shoko, he’s really not that bad!” telling shoko about him seemed okay to do. you’d even thought that they would get along. but after sharing all the ups and downs, if you could even call them that, which you and satoru had gone through during your 21 years of friendship, everything seemed a little weirder and… intimate?

sure, he could be a little handsy and familiar, but that was expected of someone who had seen you grow up. as you rambled on about your most recent “date” with him, shoko squinted her eyes in scrutiny, having had enough of listening to you talk about him. to her, he sounded like a complete stalker and obsessed psychopath who couldn’t get over his childhood crush.

the more you try to defend yourself though, the more you start to look back at your relationship with him. and in hindsight… perhaps he really could be a little weird at times?

like slipping a hand under your t-shirt whenever you’d mention you were on your period, for example.

“what? i’ve literally seen you naked when we were kids.” satoru would dismiss you whenever you’d voice your concerns about how 16 years later, your body had changed. but when his warm hands massage your sides and rub at your tummy as the pain fades away, your protests die on your tongue as you sink into his touch.

or kissing you on the mouth whenever the two of you would say farewell.

“hey, don’t leave me hanging.” satoru would pout, signaling he wanted a hug. but the second you’d reach to wrap your hands around him, he’d grab the back of your head and place a wet kiss on your cheek.

“ewww, satoru. we’re not kids anymore.” you’d whine, batting your eyelashes up at him in annoyance.

so he’d reach behind and pull you in by the neck, more carefully this time, as his lips land on yours. you freeze the first time he does it and satoru almost curses himself for being so fucking stupid and pushing himself onto you.

but the second time he tries his luck, you involuntarily moan into the kiss. he’s quick to slip his tongue inside your mouth for a moment before you suddenly push him away, surprised at yourself for even letting him do this.

and even as he sees you stare at the floor in embarrassment, stomping away from him, hands clutching your handbag for dear life, he can’t forget the sweet moan you’d just let out. and he swears his dick has never been harder.

“yeah, he’s totally alright. definitely not fucked in the head. remind me of that one time he fondled your tits.” shoko lands a blow that has your cheeks growing red as you scan the café, hoping nobody heard that.

“i told you we were just cuddling! he wanted to help me relax.” you desperately try to defend yourself.

“were you on your period again? wait, that was a different situation. sore from the gym? shit, wait, that’s not it.”

shoko’s ironic little comments were definitely not helping you decide whether or not to continue this strange dynamic between you and the white-haired man.

“enlighten me, please. what excuse did he have this time? he just had to feel you up?” shoko ends her argument that serves as a punch to your gut. you feel like you’ve been slapped across the face and frankly speaking, you’d much prefer that than to have shoko snatch your rose-colored glasses off your face and bring everything out in the open.

and even as your coffee date comes to an end and you completely change the topic, you’re left wondering if maybe shoko is right.

three days later, despite everything, you find yourself in satoru’s apartment. he had invited you over to play monopoly - something you did every week - but what he didn’t know was that he was about to be in for a surprise.

this was the night. you’d finally break ties and go your own ways. his confusing behavior didn’t necessarily make you feel uncomfortable. it was merely odd at times and as much as you’d appreciate an ounce of clarity, your friendship just had to end for good. and today was the perfect day to do this - the sooner, the better. maybe you’d break his heart but at least you’d leave with a little dignity.

“satoru, don’t bother getting the board games out. or the snacks.” you say as you take off your shoes, stopping a surprised satoru in his tracks. he retreats from the dinner table and turns to face you. he places both of his hands on your shoulders and tilts his head with a pout.

“what’s wrong? you don’t wanna play anymore?” satoru asks sadly.

his attempts at making you fold don’t work this time and you grab his wrists, bringing his arms back to his side.

“satoru, i’ve been thinking, y’know…” you’re nervous as you begin what’s forming out to be a long speech.

“i’m not really sure we should be friends anymore. i’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me and the fact that you stood alongside me all this time, but i don’t find meaning in this friendship anymore.” you’re pretty proud of yourself for standing up to satoru, who still can’t quite decipher what it is you want to say.

“i’ve had the chance to look at our situation from a different perspective and i don’t think it’s normal.” you finish, taking a deep breath. you can pretty much see the gears shifting in satoru’s mind as he lets out a disbelieving scoff.

“it’s shoko, isn’t it? i knew she’d put ideas in your head and try to convince you i’m the bad one.” he speaks, his demeanor different from any other time.

“i’m sorry, toru. it’s not like that, i promise. you know she’s my closest friend though. she’s bound to give me advice.”

“what about me? i thought i was your closest friend. are you really going to listen to a girl you barely know and fuck up everything we’ve built the past years?” satoru accusing you of leaving him behind absolutely infuriates you because you’ve been doing quite the opposite.

something snaps inside of you and you raise your tone, begging to scare him away.

“shut it, satoru! i’ve had enough of it being all about you. you’re so overprotective at times. all you do is walk behind me like a dog all the time. i’ve given dozens of guys the wrong impression-“

“i’m really sorry, i had no idea-“ your best friend attempts to speak over you, surprised at your outburst, but you cut him off.

“no, satoru, you’ll let me fucking finish. haven’t you sat down and ever wondered what the fuck you were doing, chasing me all these years? i’ve been so busy explaining to guys that there’s nothing going on between us.”

you’re running out of breath with the way you’re rambling about everything you’ve kept hidden inside of you. your chest feels like it’s going to explode, but your heart also feels lighter. you feel yourself tear up as you face your best friend like you used to do in the good old times, and share whatever’s on your mind.

“god damn it, i’m a virgin at 21 because i haven’t had a single chance to talk to a guy without you coming up to us and acting like you own me. touching me like i’m yours and acting like a psycho. what the fuck is wrong with you?”

tears spill down your cheeks and you absentmindedly wipe them, not letting your emotions get in the way. you have to get everything off your chest and it has to happen right now.

“we’re done. i don’t wanna hear from you anymore. whatever weird thing we had going on-“ you say as you signal, waving your hand between the two of you, the distance between your figures more evident than ever “-is over.”

satoru stands, baffled. you observe his reaction, watching his expression suddenly soften. you don’t realise you’re shaking, tears still streaming down your face at your stupid, but heartfelt confession. as you take a deep breath, satoru speaks.

“please, don’t leave like this. i had no idea you felt this way, baby.”

“don’t fucking call me that.” a shudder runs through your body at the pet name as your mind tries its best to fight against his honeyed words and handsome face which want to lure you in, ensnare you once again.

“all you had to do was tell me. we can fix this. we’ve known each other our whole lives. you could’ve told me sooner.” satoru speaks after a moment. he tries to be as careful as he can, praying he doesn’t upset you again.

he steps forward and waits for you to retreat, but as you stare at his face, your knees lock and you freeze in place - something that’s happened many times before.

he doesn’t waste a second as he reaches for your face.

“i’m so, so sorry. it was stupid of me to act this way.” and as his thumb rubs your cheek in a soothing manner, you just can’t find it in yourself to say another word against him. he runs his thumb over your trembling lip.

“we’ll fix this. okay, baby?” you don’t even register the pet name, staring as satoru’s towering frame makes you feel like a little girl once again.

his lips lift up in a very small smirk which you’re almost sure resembles pity.

“you’re a virgin?” his words don’t mean to be insulting but he realises he’s hit a nerve when tears start streaming down your face once again. his eyes widen and he cradles your face with both of his hands.

“fuck, i’m sorry. i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i was just curious, doll, i promise i wasn’t making fun of you” satoru whispers, holding your face like you’re a porcelain doll.

you don’t realise you’re in his territory once again as your feet walk you over to his bed. you take a seat, ass barely hanging on the edge of his freshly washed seats, your body prodding at your mind in its last attempts to get you the fuck out of here. but as satoru crouches down and you catch a whiff of his comforting scent, you know you’re a goner.

“i’ve been scared. i’ve grown accustomed to having you everywhere with me. i feel like it’d be weird. not that i’d be betraying you, it’s not like we’re together. just been scared, toru.” you mumble as your eyes fill up with tears at the thought of your pathetic love life. you feel as if you’re clawing at the walls, begging to regain a sense of dignity with your words, but your heart feels like it’s coming apart and has laid itself bare for satoru to pick at.

“you want me to help you, doll?” satoru’s suggestion fills the quiet room.

you’re convinced you’ve never cried harder in your life before as tears fill your eyes again. satoru seems like some kind of monster right now and your watery eyes further distort his image.

“i don’t know. ‘m scared it’s gonna hurt” your pitiful expression stares into satoru’s eyes. you’d come here to break things off with him and now, your body had surrendered. you were minutes away from taking your clothes off and getting under the sheets with this man.

“shhh.. hey, look at me, doll. don’t stain this pretty face with your tears. you’re scared, hm?” satoru was by no means a saint, but with the way his cock was straining against his pants as he watched you cry over the thought of his cock entering you - he could swear he was able to feel the heat of eternal hell creeping up on him.

“‘m sorry, i know it’s really stupid.” you couldn’t stop sniffling, elbows propped on your knees as you covered your face, begging for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth right now.

satoru gently pulls at your hands, forcing you to reveal your face. cupping your red cheeks, he carefully wipes at your tears with his thumbs as you sit in front of him on the edge of the bed.

“it’s not stupid, i promise. is that why you’ve been so frustrated? you could’ve just asked me.” he speaks to you condescendingly, but your mind can’t seem to notice.

“that’s embarrassing, why would i ever ask that of you?” is what you answer as you turn your head, avoiding his eyes out of sheer shame. satoru is quick to grab your chin and turn your head to face him.

“there’s nothing in the world i wouldn’t give you, baby. you just have to ask.” satoru speaks, so closely to your face, you can feel his breath on your lips. his words have a deeper meaning than you can currently register, but you take them in on a surface level as you lose all scruples you’ve seemed to have all this time.

satoru’s surprised when you’re the one who reaches for him. your lips crash on his and you stop thinking. your best friend pushes you further onto the bed and lays you on your back, his tongue still inside your mouth.

a whine creeps up your throat as his kisses now move alongside your jaw and carefully travel down your neck. satoru is quick to find the sweet spot near your ear and you let out a moan as he lets his tongue run over the mark he just left.

his kisses and touches never stop, even when his face hovers over yours to ask for consent.

“are you sure, doll? we can stop at any time. just wanna know you’re doing this because you want to.“ his words are muffled as he smothers you in kisses - on the edge of your lips, on your nose bridge, on the forehead.

“toru, i’m sure. please.” he places a final kiss on your lips, hearing the pure need in your voice.

his hands find purchase on the waistband of your sweatpants as he slides them down, peppering kisses down your legs in the process. you’re quick to get rid of your shirt and bra, throwing them wherever you can find.

your panties find themselves on the floor next before satoru kneels between your legs, spreading your thighs as far as he can. you don’t even realise what he’s doing before you feel his warm tongue lick a stripe between your folds and you can’t suppress the pornographicly loud moan the action elicits from you.

satoru’s fingers are squeezing your thighs as they threaten to close in on him. his mouth latches onto your clit and he alternates between sucking and placing kitten licks on the swollen nub.

“t-toru. more.” your pleas reach his ears and one hand moves between your legs.

“i know you want more, baby. just taking my time with you. i need you nice and wet for me so you can take me. think you can do that?”

you nod your head frantically as you feel his finger tease at your hole, gathering the arousal that’s practically dripping out of you and smearing your juices all over.

“sooo sticky and sweet.” satoru murmurs in fascination as his head falls down between your legs again, this time as he eases a finger inside your hole. you whine at the sudden intrusion but your pussy welcomes him in. he starts off slow, thrusting one finger inside you. your best friend picks up the pace as his tongue moves, your pussy a drenched mess. the tip of his tongue swirls on your clit and you’re convinced he’s spelling out something, but you’re teetering too close to the edge to even bother thinking about it.

a second finger enters you and satoru’s thrusts become more hurried when he sees you panting and shutting your eyes in hopes of prolonging your pleasure. he dives between your folds, tongue frantically licking and slurping.

“come on, baby. cum on my tongue. wanna taste more of you.”

satoru’s words and nose bumping against your clit send you over the edge as you lose control, hips jumping and legs twitching as pleasure overtakes your mind.

his fingers slow down and his licks turn into slow kisses. you shiver as satoru places one last smooch on your clit and takes his fingers out of your clenching hole.

he’s quick to bring those same fingers up to his mouth and run his tongue slowly up his digits. then he takes both of his fingers inside his mouth, sucking like he’s tasting nectar, and proves a point as he takes them out with a loud squelching sound.

the sight is so erotic, you don’t even register the fact that you’ve squeezed your thighs together, grinding against the sheets desperately, half-lidded and incredibly horny.

“baby, you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this.” satoru speaks, moving his lips across your body, down your navel, on your chest, between your thighs - anywhere he can find. he was taking his time with you, cherishing every second in which your spectacular body was finally splayed out on display - all for him to enjoy.

he grabs your wrists and places a kiss on both of your palms before leaning down and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss once again. his tongue moves across yours as you become an open-mouthed slobbering mess, saliva spilling out from the corners of your mouth, running down your tongues and falling on your chest.

you moan inside his mouth, nails sinking in his back. satoru hisses at the pain and shuts his eyes and you take advantage of the moment, placing one last sweet kiss near the corner of his mouth before whispering.

“wan’ your cock inside, toru.” you’re long gone, completely having forgone the one and only goal you had for tonight - leave this friendship in the past.

satoru was living for this. finally hearing you speak up, whisper absolute filth in the tiny space between your mouths - god had finally smiled down on him. perhaps hell was not close.

“think you’re ready, hm?” he asks, moving your hair out of your face as he places a strand behind your ear. you nod, staring into his eyes full of love.

“anything for my baby. i’ll go slow, yeah?”

satoru discards his pants and you just now notice he had been completely clothed the whole time. the thought of you naked and writhing in his arms as he pleasures you, clothes on and all, makes your arousal practically gush out of you.

he finally takes his boxers off and all that can be heard is the loud gulp which comes from your throat.

he’s huge. sure, he’s always been a fit guy but you had never really paid attention to that or thought about the fact that he might be… well, to put it this way, gifted.

you stare up at the man as he hovers over you, watching the flame in your eyes suddenly die out. how were you supposed to fit all of him inside you?

satoru’s hands run down your thighs in attempts to soothe you.

“baby, with the way you’re staring at me, i’m the one starting to get scared.” he speaks.

“satoru, you’re huge.”

he’s baffled by your confession. of course, he was aware of the fact. many women had told him so, but they were ones who were chasing a certain porn fantasy. it enticed them and he didn’t mind their compliments. but as he stares down at his cock, the action almost humorous, he realises that there’s a chance you’ll decide he’s just too big and back out.

that thought doesn’t bother him as much as his next one does - what if he hurts you?

he shuts his mind off and is brought back to earth by the sight of your naked body below him.

he’ll fit just fine. he’ll make sure of that.

“nothing to worry about. i’ll make you feel really good, yeah?”

and without you having to ask him, he grabs your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours, hoping to bring you a sense of comfort.

he slaps his tip against your clit to tease you and you squirm, pussy clenching around nothing.

satoru lets out a small chuckle and begins pushing his tip inside, carefully moving through the first ring of resistance as your pussy clenches down on him. he has to bite down on his tongue. you were so goddamn tight, it was borderline painful. all he wanted was to break you in, spread you and mold your walls into the shape of his cock. but he couldn’t break his promise, not when his sweet girl was whining below him, writhing and whimpering at every prod and poke.

“fuck, you’ve gotta relax, baby. you’re squeezing me so tight.” satoru says with a breathless chuckle as he tries his best to sink another inch inside you.

“just a little more… biiig stretch. there we go.” your best friend mumbles softly as he bottoms out.

your pitiful moans fill his ears and he feels his heart sink. it takes all of his self-restraint not to pull out of you and just gather you in his arms so the pain could go away. but he knew that the best was yet to come. and the only better way to express his love for you was right here - you just had to push through the pain so he could show you heaven.

“i know, sweetheart, i know.” satoru shushes as his fingers move in gentle strokes all across your body in attempts to calm you down. your moans and aches slowly turn into whines for more as you get accustomed to his size.

“want me to move now, baby?” he asks as gently as he can, his voice barely a whisper. his fingers reach down between the two of you to rub your clit and you squeeze down on his cock at the feeling of his thumb rolling circles on your nub.

satoru lets out a quiet laugh as you nod at him again.

he begins by slowly pulling out and sliding his cock inside you. you’re wet, dripping down the sheets as you try your best to get accustomed to satoru’s size.

his moves turn into slow thrusts, controlled and not too harsh. satoru’s fingers reach down again and he helps you relax with a tease to your clit, distracting you from the fact that he’s picking up the pace, too lost in you.

your hand squeezes his as you look down and notice your tummy bulge whenever satoru thrusts deeper.

your moans get louder and your pussy clenches down on him at the sight. you’re whining incoherently, begging for more as your head falls back on the pillow.

“theeere we go, there’s my girl. feels good, yeah?”

“mmph” was all you could mumble out as satoru’s cock thrusted inside your hole, pleasure overtaking you for the first time in your life. his arms cage you in as he pants above your body. suddenly, he grabs a hold of your legs and props them up around his waist. you let out a loud moan at the change of positions, this new angle allowing him to reach even deeper inside you.

“‘m close, toru. so close.” you whine out.

“let go for me, doll. i’m right here. toru’s right here.”

your release crashes over you in waves as you convulse, writhing and squeezing satoru’s cock.

“fuck. i’m coming.”

“inside. please.” is all you manage to say. and satoru doesn’t wait for you to tell him twice. his own release comes soon after and you bask in the feeling of his cum filling your warm hole.

your pussy is still fluttering around his cock as satoru leans down to place a few kisses on your chest and finally meet your lips.

the kiss isn’t hurried, it’s sweeter than ever and makes your pussy clench down on his cock again.

“greedy,” satoru chuckles and slowly pulls out of you as your cum mixes with his and drips down your fluttering hole. you whine at the feeling of emptiness. “but i think that’s enough for tonight, baby.”

satoru kneels down between your legs and spreads them again to watch your juices drip out of your pussy.

before you can protest, his tongue laps up the remnants of your shared orgasm and you’re quick to shut your legs.

“you’re a pervert. and a tease.” you scoff at him in disbelief.

satoru envelops you in his arms and places a kiss on your head.

“let’s clean you up, baby.” his words are the last ones you register before you doze off soon after.

satoru takes care of you, bathing you and dressing you in one of his sweatshirts, opting to also give you his boxers rather than having you sleep bare (he wouldn’t be able to resist you.).

it’s pretty late now and you’re sleeping soundly in satoru’s arms who's enjoying your mere presence, when you suddenly get a notification. he takes a quick look at your screen that has lit up.

shoko: why aren’t you answering? 1:17 AM

don’t tell me that asshole came over again 1:17 AM

giving me the creeps again from miles away 1:18 AM

with you still in his arms, gojo grabs your phone from the nightstand as carefully as he can without disturbing your peacefully sleeping figure. his fingers move across the screen rapidly as he scoffs at the texts.

you: no 1:21 AM

i’m in his bed this time 1:22 AM

*photo attachment* 1:22 AM

and with a final photo of your head laying on his bare chest sent to your friend, gojo shuts your phone off and also dozes off, holding you as tight as ever, convinced that this way, you won’t try to run away from him again.

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