#i saw this once and i have been looking for it ever since

[froppy-butterflyfan2000]

The vampire is sick to his stomach as he saw the wagyu steak. The vampire push the raw steak away from his chest. He looks at the person who made this.

“Pandora, I am Hindu. I can’t eat beef because it is taboo in my religion,” said Denki. “Plus it is not cooked. Are you trying to get me sick so I can take a sick leave, just so I can continue in helping you?” He continued, then he sigh. “That is diabolical and typical of you.”

Pandora looks at him, shocked that she refused to eat. She would have been angry if it not for his explanation. Maybe she should have cook the steak and let the kitchen be on fire hehehehe. Ever since his colleague went missing, Denki spends his days finding them and figuring out the identity of the culprit. So far it is not Hamilton Slade (and thanks goodness they escape death by the hands of vampire mutant. And it turns out he was resurrected and under control by a demon! Man Townsville is getting really…. Strange!).

“You have not been eating anything!” Said Pandora. She press his arm hard and Denki winced. “See! I can feel your bone. I can snaps you like a twig. How were you able to active on your hero work?”

Denki felt conflicted when she said that. Pandora just wanted to use his brain to have him do a private investigation. But his arm?!

“Hey! I need my arms intact, to perform your investigation and my search for Professor McKnight.” Denki protested, then Denki let out a sigh, then got up from his chair to show Pandora his conspiracy board. Pandora see all the photos, news clippings of the vampire attacks, news about Tormenta’s hero days, and informations on the fairy courts and witch covens are all aligned on the bulletin board, covering in a spiderweb of red strings.

“You’re right, Pandora…. Someone has it against people I am close to.” He said.

Pandora see a photo of a tall girl with black hair. She stares at the photo. A tall slightly curvy girl. She had dark cinnamon brown skin, big green eyes, and long straight black hair that went down to her lower legs. She also saw a photo of a young boy was sitting next to her. He was brown-skinned and had greenish brown eyes. “Are these your siblings?” Pandora asked. Denki looks at Pandora, since she is new to Townsville. “You’re correct, that is my little sister, Ashanti and our thambi, Reyansh. Ashanti is one of the protectors of Townsville,” He explained. “She’s is a heroine investigating on this mission on the gruesome murders. Therefore, She and my other cousin, Auggie and their team to not bury their nose that doesn’t belong. This led vampires to attacked P.O.I.N.T. Prep, and one of them turned me into one, to pose as a message to my little sister. That mastermind was after me, Nergella, Reyansh and his friend, Saturn because she started to be more involve.” He concluded.

Pandora looks at his board, digesting all this information, taking a deep breath in and out. This is actually make sense. Better than how the vampire descendant of an ancient powerful mutant, whose served Dracula, returned from the death.

Pandora grabs his face and squeezing and rubbing his cheeks. “I knew this brain could be useful. Now all you have to do is get the nutrients you deserve.”

Denki squirted his eyes and remains stoic. He is not eating that raw wagyu steak. Pandora see the expression on Denki’s face, and he let him go. “Ok ya big baby, what meats can you actually eat? Pork?”

Denki shook his head. Pandora just groaned, learning that he can’t eat pork. She could really use a drink right now. She stares at his refrigerator.

“The meats I always eat are chickens, muttons, and elks. Once or twice a week. Muttons once a year or on special occasions.….” He explained then see Pandora is not focusing on him anymore, and instead his refrigerator. He saw the refrigerator left open. She takes the blood bag to take a a short sip, but then stops for a moment, and then proceeds to continue drinking it.”

Instead of asking her to stop, he decides to tell her of his diet.

“I drank blood given to me by Mr. Morale, which the blood came from his wife. I can drinks human blood, though I preferred animal blood, but my auntie says it is better safe than sorry. Do you thinks inhuman-vampire should drink blood of either an inhuman or an inhuman-witch? Or just human blood?”

His eyes shifted to Pandora drinking the blood pack and stopped. Pandora searched up “Miles Morale’s Wife” on Google from her cellphone. Pandora’s jaw dropped. She drank the blood of the superheroine, Ms. Marvel, a mutant/inhuman hybrid. The drops of her blood stained on her cellphone.

“Pandora?” He asked, looking at her with concerns written on her face. Pandora is now internally screaming right now, unable to respond. He see Pandora grinning from ear to ear. At least she is happy to try out his blood supply. He shuts the door of the refrigerator. People always come to him for when they needed something, or people wanted him to do what they wanted to do. But he can’t do the latter. He is nothing but a lapdog.

~~~~

Meanwhile back at the Deol Residence, Ashanti’s eyes are glued to the letter she received in the mail, written in blood, her hands are shaken. Ashanti looked at the photos on her desk….. Photos of her elder brother hanging out with some vampires at an alternative rock concert and at a private yacht. Her face is pale, and then turn red. Ashanti crumbled up the piece of paper and ripped it into shreds, and punch her desk hard out of rage, cracks are forming. She is angry at her two brothers and aunt for keeping Denki’s Vampirism a secret from her and her dad. Angry at herself that someone unleashed a swarm of feral vampires to attack P.O.I.N.T. Prep is all because she is investigating the mission, by her auntie and the vice-principal’s direct order, putting her siblings and cousin in danger. Ashanti gritting her teeth thinking about she could have done better. Then she anger turns to sorrows as tears begin to form in her eyes. Ashanti slumped down to her chair.

Auggie Babcock-Pines (mentioned), Tormenta McKnight (mentioned), and Pandora belong to @animeclub78

Ashanti Deol/Ashanti Sharma, Saturn (mentioned), and Reyansh Deol/Reyansh Sharma belong to @cooltmoney95

Nergella Utonium-Pines (mentioned) and Denki A. Deol belong to me

“Ummm… what are you doing?” Asked the vampire calmly, as you desperately push the piece of raw steak against his chest. “Is… is that wagyu?”

[mingi-s-dimples]

Laced in Couture - C.SN

"Whenever I’m away from you.. I get closer and closer to insanity.”

~ a special for today's dgfw25.. because I simply couldn't resist.

pairing: san x fem!reader

genre: 18+, slightest filth, fashion au, model au

summary: san just couldn't take his eyes off you at the show, even if he was the model himself... and he ruins you.

wc: 3.5k

warnings: san is needy and desperate af, slightly teasy reader, model x manager, fashion au, kitchen sex on a counter, he's so desperate he doesn't get fully undressed, lots of kissing, neck kissing, manhandling, teasing, pussy eating, cum eating, unprotected (boo use protection irl!), completely consensual, might have forgotten something, might edit later.

author's note: everyone around me had to hold me from falling and turning into dust when i saw how this man looked today.. hello >.< he's fucking insane... and it's even more insane *upcoming bia fun fact and childhood lore* that i've been a dolce & gabbana fan and fashion hard fan since I was.. 9 or 10. so when he was announced as an ambassador y'all can bet i ran 50 laps that day. anyways here's a small fic combining two of my most prized obsessions: san and dg.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

Milan had been a fever dream. A whirlwind of flashing cameras, hushed conversations in back corridors, and the ever-present scent of expensive perfume and burning stage lights. Fashion Week had its own rhythm—fast, relentless, intoxicating. Models, designers, managers, press—all moving in a delicate choreography, where one misstep could ruin an entire show. And yet, amidst all of it, there had been him.

Choi San, draped in Dolce & Gabbana, skin kissed by the stage lights, walking with the kind of controlled, effortless confidence that made people stop breathing. He was untouchable out there, a vision sculpted in luxury, every step leaving an imprint in the air. But you knew the truth. Knew what lay beneath the carefully constructed poise—the way his fingers twitched slightly when he walked off stage, adrenaline rushing through him, the way his eyes always found you first in the crowd. No one else noticed, but you did. Because you knew him.

No one else knew about the nights spent behind closed doors, the whispered words between hurried touches, the stolen glances in rooms too full of people. The industry thrived on secrecy, on illusion, and the two of you had perfected the act. In public, you were just a manager, and he was just another model. But behind locked doors?

That was something else entirely.

Now, Fashion Week was over. The lights had dimmed, the crowds had dispersed, and the city had exhaled its last breath of excitement. Milan was quiet again. And so were you, sitting in the back of a black car, your body still buzzing with the adrenaline of the past few days. Your phone vibrated once in your hand. A single message.

"Penthouse. Door’s open."

Your heartbeat tripped.

San wasn’t one for unnecessary words, but that didn’t mean his messages weren’t heavy with meaning. Penthouse. The place he had been staying—hidden away from the chaos, away from prying eyes.

The car pulled up in front of the sleek, modern building, the kind that exuded wealth and exclusivity. You stepped out, heart hammering, fingers tightening around your phone. The elevator ride felt endless, anticipation coiling low in your stomach.

When the doors slid open, the hallway was silent. And just as he’d promised—the door was unlocked.

You stepped inside, closing it softly behind you. The space was dimly lit, the glow of the city outside spilling in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was beautiful, expensive, but your eyes didn’t linger on the decor. Because there—leaning against the kitchen counter, dark eyes locked onto you—was San.

Still dressed from earlier, black slacks hanging low on his hips, a half-unbuttoned shirt revealing the golden skin beneath. He was watching you, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips, his head tilted slightly in that way he did when he was waiting for you to make the first move.

And just like that, the last few days, the restraint, the distance—it all melted away.

Because here, behind closed doors, there was no need for pretense.

There was only him. And you.

Your heels clicked softly against the marble floor as you stepped further inside, the air between you humming with something electric. San hadn’t moved from where he leaned against the counter, but his gaze was heavy, dark, intent.

“You were unbelievable tonight,” you murmured, your voice softer than you intended, still caught in the spell of watching him command the runway. “The way you carried yourself, the confidence—San, I swear, the entire room was holding its breath.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, barely acknowledging the words, but his body had started moving. Slow, deliberate steps, closing the space between you inch by inch. His fingers toyed with the next button of his shirt, slipping it undone, exposing more of the golden skin underneath. “That so?”

You exhaled a quiet laugh, tilting your head. “Yes. You were stunning, San. The way you—”

The next button popped open. Another step forward.

You caught the flicker of something dangerous in his eyes before his hands moved again—this time, undoing the last button in one slow, teasing motion. His shirt hung open now, framing the toned planes of his torso, the silver chain against his skin glinting under the city lights.

“Are you even listening to me, baby?” you asked, amusement lacing your voice, though your breath hitched slightly when he reached you.

San’s hands found your waist immediately, warm and insistent, pulling you flush against him. His lips hovered just above yours, his breath fanning across your skin as he murmured, “Haven’t heard a single word, love.” His voice was low, thick with want. “I’m too gone for you.”

And just like that, his lips were on your neck, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin as his fingers gripped at your waist, at the fabric of your clothes, needing more, needing all of you.

You bit back a smile, pretending to ignore the way his lips were trailing heat along your neck, his fingers gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d slip away. Instead, you let your hands wander up his chest, your touch featherlight, barely there.

“Too gone for me, huh?” you teased, your voice sweet, playful, your nails tracing the curve of his collarbone. “Then maybe I should keep talking, just to see if you can actually focus—”

San exhaled sharply through his nose, and before you could say another word, his hands were cupping your jaw, tilting your face up just so—and then his lips were on yours, claiming.

The kiss was deep, urgent, his mouth moving over yours with a hunger that stole the air from your lungs. His fingers slid into your hair, tilting your head to deepen it, his body pressing flush against yours, letting you feel just how affected he was. His teeth scraped your bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth, pulling a quiet, breathless sound from you.

“There,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky, satisfied. “That shut you up, didn’t it?”

You would’ve fired back with something equally teasing, but then his hands were on your thighs, gripping firmly as he lifted you with effortless strength, setting you down on the cool marble countertop.

Your knees bracketed his hips as he settled between your legs, his touch everywhere at once—hands splaying over your thighs, thumbs rubbing slow circles into your skin, lips pressing against the corner of your mouth, your jaw, the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“God, you’re unreal,” he breathed, fingers slipping to the first button of your shirt. He took his time, unfastening it slowly, brushing his knuckles against your skin with every movement. His touch was soft, reverent, but his body was needy, his hips pressing closer, his breath uneven as he drank you in.

He pushed the fabric apart, his fingertips tracing lightly over your newly exposed skin, his lips trailing down the column of your throat. “So perfect,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, warmer, almost possessive. “I don’t know how I lasted all week without this.”

His hands tightened on your waist, his lips finding yours again—deeper this time, almost desperate.

A slow, knowing smirk curled at your lips as you shifted slightly, your legs tightening around his hips. The movement pressed him closer—enough for you to feel the unmistakable hardness beneath his slacks, straining against the expensive fabric.

San’s breath stuttered, his fingers flexing against your waist, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he pressed closer, as if daring you to acknowledge what you’d done to him.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence, but your hand was anything but as it trailed down his chest, over the planes of his stomach, before finally reaching the bulge between his legs.

Your fingers traced the outline slowly, deliberately, watching the way his jaw clenched, how his lashes fluttered as he exhaled heavily through his nose.

“Hm,” you mused, your voice laced with amusement. “You are faaar gone for me.”

San let out a breathy chuckle, but it was strained—like he was barely holding on. Then, in one swift movement, he caught your wrist, pressing it down against the counter beside you. His other hand grabbed the edge of your blouse, and before you could tease him again, he finished undoing the last buttons, peeling the fabric from your shoulders, exposing you completely to him.

His gaze devoured you, dark eyes trailing over every inch of newly revealed skin, his lips parting slightly, his tongue flicking out to wet them as he swallowed. His grip on your wrist loosened, his palm sliding down your arm, fingers ghosting over your ribs before settling on your waist, his touch possessive.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, voice thick with need. His hands squeezed at your sides, his hips pressing forward.

Then, he leaned in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You know.. I’m gonna fuck you right here.”

A shiver ran down your spine, your fingers clutching at his arms as he kissed down your throat, down the curve of your shoulder.

And judging by the way his fingers were trembling slightly against your skin, you knew—he wasn’t just saying it.

He meant it.

San didn’t waste a second. The moment those words left his mouth, his hands were on you—gripping, touching, taking. His fingers slid down your back, over your waist, then lower, bunching up the fabric of your skirt with a sharp tug.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his forehead pressing against yours, his hands roaming everywhere.

His lips crashed against yours, messy and desperate, while his fingers hooked into your panties. He didn’t even bother easing them down properly—just pulled them aside, then down, letting them slip past your thighs before he tossed them somewhere onto the kitchen floor.

Your breath hitched, and he felt it. Felt the way your thighs tensed slightly around his hips, how your fingers curled into his arms. He groaned against your mouth, his hands sliding down to grip the back of your knees, pulling you open for him.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmured, his voice rough, almost pained, his fingers trailing over the soft skin of your inner thighs. “You know what you do to me, don’t you?”

You barely had time to answer before he reached down, fumbling with his belt. His fingers were quick, impatient, pushing his slacks down just enough—just to his knees, no further. He couldn’t be bothered to take them off completely. Not when he needed you now.

And then he was pressing forward, his body crowding you against the counter, his cock heavy and hard, brushing against your bare skin.

His hands never stopped moving—gripping at your waist, sliding up to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples, before skimming down again, squeezing, claiming.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whispered against your lips, panting now, his fingers digging into your hips as he lined himself up. “I can’t—”

And then he was pushing in, his head dropping to your shoulder, a wrecked moan slipping from his lips.

“Jesus, baby,” he gasped, his arms wrapping around you completely, holding you flush against him. His hands wouldn’t stop—palming over your back, up to your shoulders, back down to your ass, like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you the most.

“God, you feel unreal,” he groaned, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your throat, his hips already rolling into you, deep and slow, like he wanted to savor it.

But you could tell—his control was slipping. His breath was uneven, his fingers gripping at you like he needed to anchor himself, his body shuddering slightly every time he buried himself deeper.

And then, in a voice so desperate it nearly broke you—

“I need you.”

His lips crashed against yours again, his thrusts growing faster, rougher, his hands gripping at your waist like he was trying to pull you closer, trying to consume you completely.

Your breath hitched as he bottomed out, your walls stretching around him, the ache bordering on overwhelming. He was thick, every inch of him forcing your body to accommodate him, and he knew it. He felt it—the way your walls clenched around him, the way your nails dug into his shoulders, the way your thighs trembled against his hips.

“Shit,” San rasped, his forehead dropping against yours again, his breath ragged, uneven. “So fucking tight—so perfect.”

His thrusts stuttered for just a second, his hands tightening on your waist, as if he was trying to breathe through it, to keep himself from absolutely losing it. But then—

“...these damn glasses,” he muttered, frustration lacing his voice. In one swift motion, he reached up, yanking them off and tossing them onto the counter beside you without a second thought. And as soon as they were gone, it was like something in him snapped. And of course, you thought that was so hot.. that you clenched your thighs further on his hips, pulling yourself flusha against him

His hands were back on you instantly, gripping, pulling, dragging you into him as he fucked into you with a newfound desperation. His teeth scraped over your jaw, his lips trailing fire down your neck, his breath hot and needy against your skin.

“Look at you,” he groaned, voice thick with lust, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, forcing you to meet his gaze. His now bare eyes were blown wide, pupils dark and hungry, his brows furrowed in something close to agony. “You’re taking me so well—fuck, I could stay inside you forever.”

His hips snapped forward, rough and deep, pulling a choked gasp from your throat. He drank it in like a man starved, his fingers digging into your skin, his body pressing you so tightly against the counter that you had nowhere to go, no way to escape the way he was completely wrecking you.

“Feels so good,” he panted, his lips brushing yours with every ragged breath. “You feel so fucking good—I can’t—fuck”

And the way he said it—so raw, so utterly desperate—made something inside you snap.

His thrusts turned frantic, his rhythm faltering as he slammed into you, hips stuttering against yours. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with the sheer effort of holding on just a little longer. But he was so close—you could feel it in the way his grip tightened, in the way his moans grew more desperate, in the way his cock throbbed inside you, thick and pulsing, dragging against your walls with every deep, shuddering thrust.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned, his head dropping against your shoulder, his lips pressing open-mouthed kisses against your flushed skin. “Baby, I—fuck, I can’t hold it—I’m gonna—”

And then, with one final, wrecked thrust, he broke.

A deep, guttural moan ripped from his chest as he came, his arms locking around you, pulling you impossibly close. His entire body tensed, his hips pressing flush against yours as he spilled inside you, warmth flooding deep, his fingers digging into your skin like he needed to hold onto something or else he’d completely fall apart.

His breath was ragged, his body shuddering slightly as he rode out his high, his lips still pressing weak, open kisses against your jaw, your neck, your collarbone—like he needed to worship you even as he unraveled.

But then—his breath hitched. His fingers flexed against your thighs.

And suddenly, despite his own exhaustion, his head lifted. His dark, blown-out eyes flickered down between your bodies, taking in the way you were still trembling, still clenching, still needing.

And just like that, his own pleasure wasn’t enough.

“No,” he murmured, his voice still breathless but laced with something firmer. “My baby hasn’t come yet.”

Before you could even process his words, he was pulling out, a slick mess of both of you trailing down your thighs. But he didn’t give you a second to mourn the loss—because the next thing you knew, he was dropping to his knees.

His hands grabbed at your thighs, spreading you open again, his breath hot against your soaked, swollen skin. And then—

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs as he stared. “So messy. So pretty.”

And then his mouth was on you.

A sharp gasp tore from your throat as his tongue flattened against you, licking a slow, deep stripe through your folds, gathering up every last drop of you and him combined. He moaned at the taste, his hands tightening their grip, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

And then he devoured you.

His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking hard, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping back down, thrusting into you, lapping at everything you had to offer. His pace was ruthless, desperate—like he needed this just as much as you did, like he wouldn’t be satisfied until you were shaking, crying for him.

“Come for me,” he groaned against your heat, his voice wrecked, his fingers digging bruises into your thighs as he pulled you closer. “Come on, baby—let me feel you.”

San did not let up. If anything, your sounds—those breathy little gasps and whimpers—only fueled him, made him even hungrier. His tongue worked relentlessly, dragging through your folds, swirling over your clit, sucking and devouring like he couldn’t get enough of you. His nails dug into your thighs, spreading you wide, keeping you right where he wanted—helpless, shaking, his.

“God, you taste so fucking good,” he groaned against you, his lips slick, messy, his voice thick with obsession. “So sweet, baby—so fucking mine.”

And then—his fingers.

One pressed against your entrance, then two, sliding in so easily from how wet you were. He groaned at the way you clenched around them, his tongue never stopping, flicking, sucking, teasing, demanding your pleasure.

“Fuck—so tight,” he rasped, curling his fingers, stroking right there, right where you needed. “Gonna come for me, baby? Hm?”

Your entire body tensed, your thighs shaking against his shoulders, your breath breaking into short, desperate gasps. You were so close—too close. His fingers thrust deeper, faster, curling perfectly, his lips wrapping around your clit—

“San—wait, I—ah—!”

But it was too late.

The pleasure slammed into you like a tidal wave, your back arching against the counter, your fingers tangling in his hair as you came, hard, uncontrollably, a broken moan spilling from your lips. Your walls clenched around his fingers, your thighs trembling as the orgasm tore through you, overwhelming, mind-numbing.

And San? He didn’t stop.

His tongue lapped up every drop, his fingers still moving, working you through it, dragging out every last tremor, every last pulse of pleasure. He groaned as you clenched around him, as you gasped his name, as you trembled beneath his mouth.

“Fuck,” he panted and looked up at you, still on his knees, his voice raw, ruined. “You look so pretty when you come, baby.”

San finally pulled back, his fingers slipping from you, leaving you trembling against the counter. He pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, trailing them up your stomach, over the curve of your ribs, all the way to your heaving chest. When he finally reached your lips, he kissed you softly, a stark contrast to how he had just wrecked you.

His hands found your waist, lifting you onto unsteady feet. The second your legs wobbled, a breathless chuckle escaped him, and he tightened his hold, steadying you against his body.

“Shit, baby,” he murmured, smirking against your temple. “You can barely stand.”

You let out a weak laugh, pressing your face into his shoulder, your fingers gripping his biceps for balance. But then, as you pulled back slightly, your gaze dropped—and you saw it.

San’s cock was still achingly hard, standing thick against his abs, flushed and leaking, twitching slightly with every deep breath he took.

You giggled, lifting a shaky hand to brush over his abdomen, teasing. “What about you?”

San groaned, tilting his head back with an exasperated sigh, his fingers flexing against your waist. “We’ll take care of that later,” he muttered, though the way his jaw clenched told you just how difficult that decision was for him.

You arched a brow, still teasing. “Later?”

His dark eyes flickered back to yours, burning with something deep, possessive. His hands slid down to grip your ass, pulling you tight against him, making sure you felt just how hard he still was.

“Yeah,” he rasped, his voice low, almost dangerous. “Because if I fuck you again right now, I won’t stop—and I need you in one piece, baby.”

A shiver ran down your spine, but before you could respond, he leaned in, lips brushing against your ear.

“Whenever I’m away from you,” he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw, “I get closer and closer to insanity.” His hands squeezed at your hips, his breath hot against your skin. “You ruin me, baby.”

And the way he said it—so raw, so needy—made you realize one thing.

You were absolutely not done for the night.

NETWORKS: @illusionnet @blossomnet @mirohs-aurora-society

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @strawberry-mingi @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @memorabxlia @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @tahiraax1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou @lezleeferguson-120 @sopematesxx @joyfulcadence @puppytruther

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

elegiac lamenting - r. itoshi

the clicking of rain outside carved through the silence of the apartment like art.

itoshi rin never considered himself as someone who particularly enjoyed loud noises or talkative people, but right now, he wanted anything but your quietness. you stood in front of him, your head down and your the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears.

“continue what you said from before.” you whispered, finally breaking your silence. “what you were about to say at the bar before i stopped you and we left.” you shuddered at the memory; rin had just lost a game today, so maybe it would have been better for you to have shut up. but no, little old you just had to try to comfort him by acting stupid.

you acted out-of-place, but rin’s words were just as unforgivable.

rin’s eyes narrowed before his fists clenched. “you’re so damn annoying.” he hissed out. “it was a mistake dating you. you came into my life promising that you would help me recover from those shitty words that my older brother spoke to me from all those years ago, and yet you only made my life worse. distracting me from soccer, making me do stupid things with you, clinging onto me and expecting me to treat you like some god, you ruined my life. i can’t believe i ever dated you.”

for a few moments, silence once again leapt around the room, excluding the taps of the rain. “you never complained. never said a word. never told me that you didn’t like what i did. and for the record, i never promised to help you recover. i only told you that if you needed me to help, then i would have tried. i never expected you to treat me like some queen, and treating me decently was fine. that’s why i never complained about our relationship. but if you’re unsatisfied with this and you’re going to do nothing but point out my flaws that im more aware of than anyone else, then we can’t don’t this.”

a clap of thunder came right after your words. “well, clearly i am.” rin snapped back. “i can’t believe i spent five years calling you my lover.” and you can’t help but realize that’s right. that it’s been five years since you were both sixteen. that you were both twenty-one now. who knew that you would end up like this with him?

you looked up at him, burning tears finally stinging your eyes. you bit down on your lip harshly, holding your tears back, although the tears that glazed your eyes blurred your vision. but it pained you, it pained you that the only thing that you could clearly make out through your blurred vision was the teal color of sea glass. rin’s eyes, the ones that you fell for.

“alright then.” you choked out. “got it. i just…never mind.” you picked up your jacket from the couch, shoving it on. “you can mail me my things back.” and right before exiting the door, your grip on the door shaky, you finally released your final words to him.

“goodbye, rin. i love you.”

you turned the doorknob and left.

and the moment the door slammed shut, the rain began pouring heavier by tenfold. rin stood there, alone in his humid apartment, his eyes fixated on the mahogany door. he crashed onto the couch, a hand going up to run through and grab his hair harshly. he bit down on his lip, nearly drawing blood. he knew that he shouldn’t have said that; it wasn’t even the truth, why did those words escape his lips?

and now he’s lost you.

thunder once again clapped outside, and perhaps it was the world mocking him. perhaps it was the gods finding it funny. perhaps it was just mother nature’s cruelty. but this rain would change rin’s life forever.

————

rin woke up with a sharp ache in his lower back. he groaned, rubbing his eyes and stretching. shit, he let himself go off schedule. he checked his watch; 8:21 AM. He was supposed to be at practice right now, dammit. He pushed himself out of the couch, rapidly brushed his teeth and changed clothes, and got ready to go out before he saw something on the table.

your phone.

you must have left it here yesterday, although rin didn’t realize why you didn’t just come back to retrieve it. you had spare keys, after all. but he just sighed; another thing that he needed to give you. he opened your phone through your password—the day you both met—and checked the location of you through your watch.

he expected to see the familiar details of your address, but what met his eyes was practically the opposite.

KAMAKURA GENERAL HOSPITAL

what.

screw practice, he had just won a match yesterday. he shoved the front door open and ran down the apartment building’s stairs. hands gripping the steering wheel, he ran through the events of last night before sighing.

please, you better be okay.

you’ll be okay, you’ll be okay.

please.

i didn’t mean what i said last night. any of it.

please.

im sorry.

please.

i love you.

finally, he rushed into the hospital, reaching the front desk in no time and his eyebrows knit together. he stayed quiet for a few moments to catch his breath before speaking. “y/n. are they here? where are they? are they okay?”

the two nurses at the front desk exchanged glances. “and your relationship to the patient?” one of them piped up.

rin’s lips dried up. he wasn’t your boyfriend anymore, but he would have no chance of seeing you if he said that he was your ex-boyfriend.

“…friend. im their friend.”

the two nurses exchanged glances again before one of them nodded and shot rin a pitying look. she walked out of the front desk area and led rin upstairs before opening a door.

inside, you sat up on the hospital bed. rin sprinted over to you and kneeled down next to the bed, his hand squeezing yours. he panted, his eyebrows furrowing. “are you okay? what the hell happened?” you ignored him completely. in fact, rin didn’t even know if you realized he were here. your eyes are fixated on the wall in front of you, irises unmoving and only blinking every now and then.

your eyes didn’t have it’s usual brightness. the one that brought light into itoshi rin’s cold, dark life.

“they are currently in a vegetative state. they can’t respond to stimuli.” the nurse began, sighing. “it was an especially rainy night yesterday, and they got into a car accident on the road. they suffered irreversible brain damage.”

nonononononononononono—

rin’s eyes widened, his breath hitching and his heart stopping. the nurse looked down in sadness. “i apologize, but this is usually fatal. even if they do survive, they’ll never be able to live regularly ever again.”

rin’s hands began to tremble, and slowly, warm tears began to brim at his long eyelashes. “no…” he whispered.

the love of his life. the one who lit up his life like no one else. the one who he knew and knew him better than anyone else. his soulmate.

you would never be the same again.

rin’s head dropped, sobbing into the hospital bed. he knew that if any one of his fans saw him like this, he would never be able to go outside in peace again. but he couldn’t give two shits, not when the love of his life is like this.

rin then went on a break for one year and six whole months.

no one knew where the hell he was. he didn’t pick up any calls. he didn’t play in any of pxg’s games. he didn’t even go to practice, for fuck’s sake. his pr team had made up the excuse that he wasn’t in a good physical condition, but that was just pure bullshit, and everyone knew it.

on february 14th of 2024, your heart rate monitor went still.

everything went by in a blur for rin.

black outfits and a picture frame of you. marigolds and chrysanthemums. prayers and blessings. but rin couldn’t help but notice the biggest change in his life.

the world was just so dull and colorless without you.

pallid and gray. the color of rain, the very rain that took you away from him.

after one more year of grieving, on february 14 of 2025, itoshi rin finally continued his soccer career. but this time, with a change. he always wore a heart shaped locket everywhere, even to matches. his hardcore fans recognized it as his lover’s favorite necklace, but they haven’t been seen in over a year and a half, so everyone had just assumed that they had broken up.

ITOSHI RIN’S RETURN MATCH: FLOP OR FORGIVEN?

PXG VS BASTARD MÜNCHEN - THE FAMOUS ITOSHI RIN’S RETURN

everyone in the stadium could see the difference in rin’s play style.

his moves were so beautifully passionate, so full of emotion. so full of love and yet, so full of sorrow.

his style of playing was almost like a confession of love.

“AND ITOSHI RIN MAKES A COMEBACK AND SCORES THE FINISHING GOAL! PXG WINS, 4 TO 3!”

everything was a blur to rin as he held up the heart locker. usually, this would be embarrassing and absolutely humiliating for him to do.

but not this time.

he pressed a kiss to the cold, heart shaped metal, and he looked up at the sun with such incredibly soft and loving eyes.

“this is for you.”

@levihanmyotp 😈😈😈

[ctrlsht]

Beneath His Love | Jungkook Two-Shot AU (Part 2)

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: dark romance, psychological thriller, soft yandere

summary: Jeon Jungkook was once just a foreign high school friend until he disappeared without a word after graduation. Years later, he came back, not just to reconnect, but to claim a place in your life as your lover. To everyone else, your relationship is something out of a fairytale, the kind others envy. And for a while, you believed it too until the mask he wore began to slip, revealing a side of him you never saw coming.

warnings: emotional and psychological manipulation, control and possessiveness, obsession, anxiety and mild distress, isolation and coercion, themes of entrapment, smut wc: 20k

parts: (1) | (2)

Your friends haven't noticed yet because they're facing the other way.

“Y/N,” he calls, his voice cutting through the night.

Your friends turn.

“You weren’t answering your phone again.” His tone is eerily neutral. “We have to go home. Now.”

You step forward instinctively, but Mina blocks you.

“No,” she says firmly. “She’s not going with you.”

Jungkook’s gaze flicks to her, his brow arching, lips pressing into a tight line. He stares at her for a long moment before turning back to you.

“Y/N?”

Henry, oblivious to the growing tension, chimes in. “Man, Y/N might stay the night. Chloe booked a room for us since she’s leaving Monday.”

But you wish he hadn’t said that.

Jungkook shifts his gaze to Henry, his jaw tightening. He doesn’t say anything right away, just studies him.

“Henry, right?” Jungkook’s voice is smooth as he twitch is lips. “I haven’t formally met you. I only ever see you when I’m picking Y/N up.” He tilts his head slightly, eyes locked onto him. “How have you been? Last time I heard a news from you is when you were smuggling cocaine into campus during high school.”

Your stomach drops.

Henry’s eyes widen. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh,” Jungkook smirks. “They didn’t know? How is that possible, considering they’re your friends?”

“Jungkook, let’s go.” You reach for him, desperate to diffuse whatever the hell this is.

But Mina steps in again, eyes burning.

“Y/N, you’re staying,” she says. “We already talked about this.”

You ignore Mina and head straight for Jungkook, needing to escape the tension pressing down on you. The longer you stay, the harder it gets to breathe.

Your friends react. Voices overlapping behind you but you don’t look back. Your focus is locked on Jungkook, searching his face, trying to figure out what he’s thinking.

Without hesitation, you reach for his hand, ready to pull him away with you. But before you can, his grip tightens, stopping you in your tracks.

You glance up, and that’s when you see it. He’s smiling.

“It’s okay, love,” he says smoothly, pulling you closer, his eyes flickering toward your friends. “You can stay the night.”

Your stomach twists. “No, we can go now—”

“You can stay,” he repeats, his voice calm, too calm. “It’s Chloe’s last night. I get it now. Go ahead, have fun. I’ll wait for you at home tomorrow.”

“But—”

You hesitate, trying to explain, to tell him there’s no need, that you’ll just leave with him. But before you can get the words out, he cuts you off.

“You will stay.” He said firmly. The smile doesn’t waver, but you know better. You know he doesn’t like this.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. Before you can say anything else, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Your friends didn’t like what happened. They didn’t like how the situation turned out. But if they thought they were the only ones pissed about it, they were dead wrong. Because out of everyone who hated what just happened, no one despised it more than you.

Shame burned through you. The way you broke down in front of them, the way Jungkook showed up and, without a second thought, you fell right into line. How easily you let him take control. And worst of all, you ruined Chloe’s night.

Pathetic.

You fucking hated every second of it, and the last thing you wanted was to face them now. If the earth could open up and swallow you whole, you’d gladly let it.

But they didn’t let you go.

They didn’t let you walk away, didn’t let you brush this off and deal with it alone. Were they disappointed? Yeah. But they didn’t leave. They stayed.

And as much as you wanted to leave because of Jungkook, because you knew he wouldn’t like this, you realized something else. Maybe it was a good thing he “let” you stay. Because you needed this. More than you even knew.

You’d been so wrapped up in him, so caught in the push and pull of his world, that you forgot what it felt like to just be with your friends. The people who had always been there, long before he ever stepped into the picture.

It hit you then, how much of yourself you’d been losing. How, somewhere along the way, your world had started revolving around him.

But tonight, even just for a little while, you were free.

The party was still on-going, but your friends were done. Without much debate, they decided to head back to the hotel Chloe had booked. You felt bad and offered to stay, but they weren’t having it. They just wanted to get out of there and honestly, so did you.

You already knew what was coming once you got to the hotel. This wasn’t just about tonight. They wanted to know everything. About Jungkook, about the way your life had changed since you started dating him.

And the moment you started talking, it all clicked.

You knew he was controlling. Deep down, you always knew. But you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t that bad. That it was just love. Just care. But standing here, hearing your own words spill out, you realized how much of yourself you’d let slip through his fingers.

Every choice, big or small, it had all been him. And you? You just went along with it.

Chloe, sitting cross-legged on the bed, hugs a pillow to her chest. Her voice is gentle, but there’s frustration laced in it.

“We get that you love him,” she says, watching you carefully. “But you know you’re being manipulated. So why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

“Because she’s blinded by love, Chloe. That explains everything,” Mina says, taking a swig of the beer they snuck out from the club.

“It’s not just that.” Henry leans forward, grabbing a bottle from the table. “She’s not just ignoring the red flags, she’s doing whatever he wants because she doesn’t want to start a fight. It’s easier to just go along with it than deal with the fallout. It’s not always because she’s blinded by love, but she’s being manipulated.”

Mina shoots him a look. “Wow, you talk like you weren’t smuggling cocaine in high school.”

Henry groans, flipping her off. “For the last time, I was broke, okay? I needed cash, and it was a quick way to make money.”

Mina snorts. “Yeah, yeah. I just can’t believe you were out there selling coke to Jungkook of all people.”

You lean back against the bed, half-listening to them bicker, half-lost in thought. It’s been a while since you’ve hung out like this, probably since before Jungkook.

It’s crazy how much your life has changed since him. The good, the bad… and everything in between.

Chloe, who’s been quiet, finally speaks up. “Babe,” she says gently, turning to you. “I get that you love him. But if being with him is messing with your head, that’s not love. That’s control. And if you keep letting it slide, it’s only gonna get worse.”

She holds your gaze, voice softer now. “Love is supposed to make you happy. Not suffocate you.”

Now that you’re actually aware of what’s going on between you and Jungkook, you have no clue how to deal with it. Do you bring it up? Do you let it slide? Do you even want to address it at all?

Your friends make it sound so simple. Just talk to him, stand your ground, don’t let him control you. Or worse, break up with him. But the moment you even consider doing any of that, your mind shuts down. The thought alone makes you want to retreat. What if it makes things worse? What if he gets distant? What if you regret it?

You’re not the type to challenge Jungkook, not when you know how he reacts. He never outright shuts you down, but his silence, his coldness. It’s enough to make you second-guess yourself. So, most of the time, you just let things slide. It’s easier that way.

Still, a part of you was waiting for him to call or text last night. He didn’t. And now, you’re torn between reaching out first or pretending like it doesn’t bother you. Either way, the weight in your chest hasn’t lifted.

And now, it’s morning. Time to face him. And if you’re being honest, you’re nowhere near ready.

But there’s no avoiding it. No matter how much time you’ve had to think about what to say or how to say it, you’ll never be fully prepared.

Your friends dropped you off at your own apartment, unaware that you had no intention of staying. You didn’t want them to know you were going back to Jungkook. Maybe because you didn’t want to hear their protests. Or maybe because, deep down, you weren’t ready to admit to them or yourself that you still couldn’t walk away.

Stepping inside, you’re greeted by the same apartment, the same furniture, the same neatly arranged belongings. But it doesn’t feel like home anymore. It hasn’t been for a while.

It’s past nine in the morning. You don’t know what time Jungkook expects you back, but you do know he expected you to leave with him last night. That’s enough to make your stomach twist.

You sink into the couch, staring at nothing, lost in the spiral of your own thoughts. Flashes of last night replay in your mind. The way your friends looked at you, their words, their concern. And then, memories of Jungkook resurface the good ones, the ones that make it so damn hard to leave.

The idea of walking away terrifies you.

You love him. More than you probably should. More than what might be good for you. And even if this isn’t sustainable, even if a part of you knows something has to change… you’re not ready.

Not yet.

You lost track of time until his message popped up:

‘I cooked lunch.’

That’s it. No questions, no extra words. Just a statement.

As you walk through the lobby of his apartment building, your pulse quickens, your hands trembling slightly at your sides. You tell yourself to calm down, but the closer you get, the harder it is to breathe. You wish you could put this off a little longer, but you can’t.

Your fingers shake as you punch in his door code. You hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

And then, without thinking, you step inside.

The apartment is filled with natural light, curtains drawn open to welcome the crisp autumn air. It’s colder now, the season shifting.

He’s at his desk in the living room, focused on his laptop. The moment he notices you, his face lights up. He gets up instantly, closing the distance between you in a few strides, wrapping you in a warm hug, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“You’re finally home. You should eat. I made beer-battered fish.”

His voice is light, casual, like nothing happened last night.

You hesitate for a second before answering. "Okay."

It comes out flat, almost lifeless.

You walk toward the dining table, already set with plates and food, and sit down. You expect him to follow, to sit across from you like usual.

But he doesn’t.

And somehow, that makes you even more nervous.

You’re not hungry. Even if you were, you wouldn’t have the appetite for this. But you force yourself to finish the food he made anyway, each bite sitting heavy in your stomach. It’s not the taste, it’s the way your nerves are twisting into knots, making you feel like you might be sick.

He doesn’t come in while you eat. The silence in the apartment is suffocating, pressing in on you like a weight you can’t shake off.

When you’re done, you get up and head toward the bedroom to change, passing through the living room where he still sits. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say a word, like you’re not even there.

It’s driving you insane.

A while ago, he seemed fine. Now, he feels like a ticking bomb.

You’d rather he just say something, anything than sit there like this. You know his cold treatment too well; it’s his way of controlling the situation, making you come to him first. But this time, something about it feels different.

You don’t know how. You just know it does.

You’ve already showered, organized your closet, done everything you could think of to keep yourself busy. And yet, the apartment feels empty. Or rather, he feels absent.

Maybe he’s just busy.

But you know better.

Steeling yourself, you step out of the bedroom and head toward the dining area. You don’t even make it halfway before you hear it, his scoff, sharp and pointed.

“So you’re really gonna act like nothing happened, huh?”

There it is.

You turn to see him standing up from his chair, arms crossed, leaning casually against the kitchen’s pass-through window. His expression is unreadable, but his tone drips with sarcasm.

“You’re not even gonna explain last night?” His lips twitch as he watches you, waiting.

You hesitate, then exhale. “Nothing happened. They just wanted me to stay. That’s it.”

You keep it short, simple. The less you say, the better. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

But even now, you can’t believe how hard you’re trying to avoid this.

Jungkook shifts, hands slipping into his pockets as he steps toward you. His face is neutral, unreadable, but his presence alone makes your pulse spike.

When he’s finally in front of you, he leans in just enough, his gaze locked onto yours, dark and unwavering.

Then, in a low whisper, he says—

“Why do you make me feel so stupid?”

“No, I’m not!” you snap, voice shaking with frustration. “That’s really what happened! They found out I wasn’t staying the night because you didn’t let me.” You take a step back, putting distance between you.

His brow arches, his expression unreadable. “So you’re blaming me now?”

“It’s not like that,” you grit out. “I told you I’d come home with you, right? But instead, you made me stay.” Your patience is wearing thin, your hands balling into fists at your sides.

Jungkook scoffs, his jaw tightening. “Because that’s what you wanted to happen.” His voice drop dangerously low. “You didn’t even pick up your fucking phone. You didn’t give a damn that I was losing my mind, calling you hundreds of times, wondering if something happened to you.”

Your breath catches. He’s right. You didn’t answer. You couldn’t because your phone was buried somewhere in your bag. But that doesn’t mean you wanted to ignore him.

Jungkook shakes his head, his gaze piercing through you. “You love doing this, don’t you? Running off, not answering your fucking phone, making me go insane thinking something happened to you.” His voice is like fire, burning through the tension between you.

A sharp pang of guilt twists in your chest. You can’t deny he’s right, but it’s not like you did it on purpose. It was an honest mistake.

“I’m sorry, okay?” you say, exhaling shakily. “I didn’t mean to leave my phone behind. They just—” you pause, searching for the right words, “they cornered me, forced me to stay because they were upset that I kept ditching them.” Your voice softens, hoping to ease the tension. “Of course, I wanted to stay. It’s Chloe’s last night before she leaves.”

But Jungkook doesn’t ease up. If anything, he looks even more pissed. His eyes darken, his lips curling into something bitter.

“Oh, right,” he drawls. “Why don’t you just do what you did before? Go out with them without telling me.”

The accusation hits you like a slap. You blink, momentarily stunned.

He catches it immediately, his smirk sharpening. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, Y/N,” he says, voice low and edged with something dangerous. “We both know you do.”

He’s right but it was one time. Just once. And you never did it again.

“And did I ever confront you after you did that?” His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it. “I didn’t. And now you wanna question why I don’t like you hanging out with them so much?” He lets out a cold laugh, shaking his head. “Because I know you’d pick them over me.”

“What are you saying? That’s not true!” You shake your head, frustration bubbling up as you take a step closer, reaching for him.

But before you can even touch his arm, he moves away. Fast and deliberate.

"You all act like I’m the fucking villain just because I care about you," he spits, his voice shaking with frustration. "But you never question them, do you? You never doubt your precious friends. Henry did illegal shit before, and you didn’t even fucking flinch. I just don’t get it… Why is it so easy for you to doubt me, but you’d defend them in a heartbeat?"

A lump forms in your throat as you watch the single tear slide down his face. Your body instinctively moves, but something inside you hesitates.

And with that, you see yourself all over him.  

"Love, stop—please.” Your hands tremble as they reach for him, but he turns away. “I… I don’t want you to feel that way. I never meant to make you think that.” Your voice breaks, a lump forming in your throat. “You have to believe me.”

You try to reach him hoping he won’t flinch. Your hands find his face, fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw as you gently wipe away the tears, your voice softening. “I don’t think you’re wrong. I don’t blame you. Please don’t believe that.”

He stays silent, letting you wipe his tears, his breathing uneven, his jaw tense. His eyes stay downcast, refusing to meet yours. But when he finally looks up, something in them is cold and distant.

His hands come up, gently wrapping around yours as they rest on his cheeks, but instead of leaning into your touch, he slowly peels them away. His warmth disappears as he steps back, putting space between you.

"I think… it’s better if we take a break," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the thick air between you.

He holds your gaze for a moment, just long enough for your stomach to sink, for your chest to tighten before he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving you standing there, frozen, the ghost of his touch still lingering on your skin.

You stand there, frozen, the weight of the last five minutes pressing down on you like a tidal wave. It happened too fast, so fast that even now, as the seconds drag on, your mind refuses to catch up.

Where did you go wrong?

All you ever wanted was to be happy, but it feels like happiness always comes at a price. Like the universe waits for you to smile just so it can rip something away. What did you do to deserve this?

Is this love? A love that confines you, that forces you to choose?

Love is supposed to set you free, isn’t it? But instead, you’re trapped, forced to pick between him and your friends, even when you should be able to have both.

He left. No call, no message, no sign of where he is or if he even cares that you’re falling apart.

That day, you cried harder than you ever had before. You wanted it to stop the exhaustion, the ache in your chest, the way your tears wouldn’t stop spilling no matter how much you told yourself to breathe.

Are you really the one at fault? Or are you just trying to convince yourself you are?

Because when you think back, when you trace every argument, every moment that led you here, the path always leads back to you.

Maybe if you had just done what you were supposed to as his girlfriend, this wouldn’t have happened.

Maybe he was only trying to protect you, and you mistook it for control.

Maybe... maybe this is all your fault.

You waited for him that night, but the door never opened.

Alone in his cold, empty apartment, you curled up in bed, the silence pressing down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. The room felt lifeless without him, just shadows and stale air, a place that wasn’t home without his presence.

When you couldn’t take it anymore, you reached for your phone, fingers trembling as you dialed his number. The ringing felt endless, each unanswered call chipping away at the hope you were holding onto. Message after message went unread, each one met with nothing but silence.

With every call he ignored, your chest grew heavier. With every text he didn’t even bother to open, your tears only fell harder.

Is this what he felt when you didn’t pick up those nights? When your phone sat forgotten in your bag while you laughed with your family and friends, unaware that he was here, alone, drowning in the same silence that’s now swallowing you whole?

The thought broke you.

You sobbed into the pillow, exhaustion creeping in, but no matter how drained you felt, the tears wouldn’t stop.

‘Love, I’m really sorry. I promise to understand you better. Please come back.’

That was the last message you sent before sleep finally took over as your phone slipping from your grasp.

A soft touch brushes your cheek, warm and featherlight. It pulls you from your sleep, but the pounding in your head makes you wish you could slip right back under. Your eyelids feel like they weigh a ton, but when you force them open, the first thing you see is a blurred figure sitting beside you.

Jungkook.

Even though you feel awful, the second you recognize him, you push yourself up, ignoring the ache in your body.

“Kook.” Your voice cracks as tears spill down your cheeks. Without thinking, you throw yourself into his arms, gripping him tightly. “Where have you been? I’m so sorry.” The words tumble out between sobs, raw and desperate.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he gently pulls away, his expression unreadable as he wipes the tears from your face. His touch is slow, deliberate, his eyes locked onto yours.

You reach up, pressing his hands against your cheeks, needing to feel him, to make sure he’s really here. You have a lot to say, but nothing comes out. His presence alone is overwhelming, so instead, you lean into him again, wrapping your arms around him, seeking comfort in the familiar warmth of his body.

“Did I worry you that much?” His voice is soft, almost teasing, as he pats your back.

You nod, burying your face into his shoulder. “I’m really sorry.” 

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes before leaning in, his lips brushing over yours in a soft, kiss. His kiss is soft at first, teasing, but the second you open up for him, his grip tightens, one hand cupping your face while the other slides down your back, pressing you flush against him. He groans into your mouth, deep and needy.

You could feel the heat radiating off of him and he pressed you back against the bed, his body pinning you in place. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you couldn't help but arch your head back, giving him even more access to your neck. You let out a small gasp as he began kissing and biting at your collarbone as his mouth continue to explore your body with his mouth. 

His hand slides lower, fingertips grazing the waistband of your shorts, playing with the fabric but not moving further. His lips ghost over yours, teasing, as he watches the way your chest rises and falls beneath him.

Before things could go any further, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. You both stayed like that for a moment, caught in the stillness, before you gently guided his body to lie next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. He let out a soft chuckle, but you weren’t focused on that. Instead, you rested your head on his chest, your fingers finding his, intertwining them tightly as you settled into the comfort of his presence.

And just like that, everything is back to normal. At least on the surface.

You apologized over and over, making sure he knew you never meant to hurt him. You reassured him that he was right, that everything he did was only for your sake. You didn’t push back, and didn’t ask questions. Instead, you accepted the blame like it was yours to carry.

He never said sorry. Not even once. Not even for leaving you alone the entire night.

But you let it slide because, in the end, it was your fault… wasn’t it?

After that, you chose your words carefully, avoiding anything that might set him off again. You never wanted to feel that kind of loneliness again, the kind that settles deep in your bones, creeping through the empty, dark space he left behind.

You had already made him feel that way before. Twice, actually. So who were you to complain?

Yeah, it’s all on me.

You tell yourself that, over and over, until it almost feels true. But somewhere in the back of your mind, a small voice whispers. Is it, though?

Why is it always you taking the blame?

Why does it feel like your feelings don’t matter?

Why is it always you bending, apologizing, making things right?

But before those thoughts can settle, you push them away. It’s easier that way. Easier than starting another fight.

You've come to realize that in this relationship, it's always you who has to bend. And maybe that's fair. After all, every problem you've had somehow traces back to you, doesn’t it?

And just like that, everything is back to normal. Just the way you wanted. You've pushed aside all the doubts, all the nagging thoughts, and focused on the present. You're okay again. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

The next day, you spend the entire day at his place, filing another leave of absence. You would have gone to work, but with his influence in the company, you didn't really have a choice. He wanted you to stay with him, so he made sure of it, calling in on your behalf. It should bother you. It does bother you. But you let it slide. Another argument isn’t worth it.

“Love, I’ve been thinking,” his voice is low, and smooth, as he moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. The warmth of his body presses against yours as he pulls you closer. “We haven’t gone on vacation in a while.” His hold tightens slightly as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips nibbling your skin just enough to make you shiver.

You keep your focus on the pan in front of you, stirring the glossy red sauce of the spicy gochujang dish he once taught you to make. 

“And where do you want to go?” you ask, keeping your voice light, as if this is just another conversation. 

“I want to take you to my hometown.” His voice is smooth, as his chin settles on your shoulder. His arms stay firmly wrapped around your waist. “You’ve always wanted to see where I grew up, right?” His breath tickles your skin.

“Lately, things have been… overwhelming,” he continues, his voice softer now. “I think we could use a break. Just the two of us. What do you think?” He tilts his head slightly, eyes watching you closely, waiting.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes, of course. I’d love that.” The words leave your lips before you even process them.

He grins, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “That’s perfect! We’ll leave this Wednesday. Tomorrow, let’s wrap up a few things before we go.” His tone is light and excited.

You froze.

Wednesday? 

You glance at him over your shoulder.

“This Wednesday?” You ask as if you misheard.

He nods, his expression unreadable. “Yeah.” Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Something in his voice shifts ever so slightly as he studies your face. “Why?” He tilts his head, and though his lips curl into a small smile, there’s something else lurking beneath the surface. “You don’t want to go?”

The way he says it, it’s not a question. Not really. It’s a warning. A test.

And you already know the right answer.

“N-no… Of course, I like it. But isn’t this a little… sudden?” You try to sound reasonable, careful not to make it seem like you’re pushing back. “Korea is on the other side of the world, love.”

Jungkook tilts his head, watching you with an unreadable expression before raising a brow. “I don’t see the problem.” His voice is calm and dismissive.

You take a breath. “I have work.”

At that, he smirks, like you just said the funniest thing. “And?” His fingers lazily trace patterns on your arm, his touch light but distracting. “You can file a vacation leave, right? Or…” He pauses, his eyes locking onto yours. “If you still want to work, we can set up a work-from-home arrangement.” He says it so easily. 

His thumb touches your wrist. “You don’t have to worry, love. Even if you resigned tomorrow, you’d still be fine. You have me.” He smiles, pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead. “I can give you anything you need. Anything you want.”

Your chest tightens, and yet, the words slip from your lips before you can stop them. “Okay.” Because what else are you supposed to say?

“How long are we staying?” You ask, hoping for a solid timeframe, something to hold onto.

Jungkook shrugs, lips curling into a small smile. “I don’t know yet.” His voice is light, almost playful. “But don’t worry, we’ll stay as long as you want.”

Something in your gut tells you the choice isn’t really yours to make.

You’re not expecting anything extraordinary from this trip with Jungkook. To you, it’s just a regular vacation. Your first one together, sure, and your first time traveling so far, but still, just a trip. Something to look forward to, a break from everything.

You tell yourself it’s just that. A getaway.

But what you don’t know is that Jungkook has plans of his own. Plans you wish you had seen coming. Plans that won’t just shift your view of him but will change your life in ways you never imagined.

If only you had realized it sooner, before it slipped beyond your control.

—

Jungkook loves you to the point of obsession. To the point where the thought of losing you tears at him like an ache that never fades. He already has you, but it’s not enough. Not yet. Because if he doesn’t hold on tight, you might slip away.

He tells himself he’s only taking care of you, keeping you safe the way no one else can. But care isn’t enough. He needs all of you. Your body, your mind, and your heart trapped so deeply in him that escape isn’t an option.

You’re fast asleep beside him, your head tilted slightly toward him as the plane hums steadily through the air. Jungkook glances at you, his fingers instinctively adjusting your blanket before brushing away a few stray strands of hair from your face.

His chest tightens just looking at you. His heart beating a little too fast, a little too hard. His fingertips trace the curve of your cheek, lingering for a moment, memorizing the warmth of your skin.

He loves you, so much that it gets under his skin. The thought of you slipping away, of someone else touching you, laughing with you, knowing you the way he does, it makes his blood run hot. It’s possessive, a little unhinged, but he doesn’t care because as long as you're his, everything feels right.

He sat there in the dim glow of the cabin lights, watching you. Just watching. Your head rested against the seat behind him, your slow, steady breaths syncing with the quiet hum of the plane. You looked so peaceful, so his.

Jungkook’s fingers twitched, aching to touch you. Carefully, he reached for your hand, his touch featherlight to avoid waking you. His fingers slipped between yours, securing them. He exhaled slowly, lowering himself beside you, his body finally at ease. With your warmth so close, he allowed his eyes to close.

Seoul welcomed you with open arms.

The city was electric, alive in a way that made your eyes shine. Jungkook had seen Seoul a thousand times, but seeing it through you made it feel new. You marveled at the skyline, the pulse of the streets, the way everything felt both familiar and foreign. He loved that look on your face, pure, unfiltered awe.

He wanted to give you a tour, let you soak in every inch of this place, but exhaustion clung to you after the long flight. He wasn’t about to let you wear yourself out. You had all the time in the world here.

Jungkook’s Seoul penthouse was larger than the one back home. More luxurious. The moment he led you inside, he saw the way your lips parted, your gaze sweeping across the expansive space. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city like a moving painting, streaks of gold and blue reflecting off sleek marble floors. The chandelier overhead cast a warm glow, elegant yet imposing.

Unlike his other penthouse, which leaned toward a more minimalistic style, this one felt fuller, like a place meant to be lived in, not just visited. And now, with you here, it finally felt like home.

Jungkook watched as you moved through the space, your fingertips grazing the polished surfaces, curiosity flickering in your eyes. His stomach tightened. He wanted to freeze this moment, capture the way you looked standing there, fitting so perfectly into his world.

Before he even told you about this trip, he had already made sure everything was perfect. The penthouse, his Seoul home wasn’t just renovated. It was transformed. Every detail was designed to make you feel more at home here than anywhere else. More than the other penthouse. More than the place you called home.

Jungkook didn’t just want you to love this place. He wanted you to feel like you belonged here. That leaving wasn’t even an option.

“Kook, I thought I knew how rich you were, but damn, this is way more than I imagined!” you said, swirling the wine in your glass as you lounged on the couch. The city lights stretched out through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, Seoul alive beneath you.

Jungkook leaned in, taking your free hand in his before pressing a slow kiss to the back of it. But even that wasn’t enough. Sitting beside you wasn’t enough. He wanted more, needed more. Holding your hand was just a weak substitute for what he really craved.

“This is where I lived for six years," he murmured, brushing his lips along your knuckles. “So I wanted it to feel like home.”

Your home.

You tilted your head, watching him with curiosity. “Where are your parents? Do they live separately from you?”

“They’re in Busan,” he answered smoothly, taking a sip of his wine. “That’s my hometown, but I moved here when I started my business.”

You hummed, nodding. Then, the question came.

“Are we going to meet them?”

Jungkook stilled. His lips remained against your skin, but his movements stopped. He tilted his head slightly, a slow grin spreading across his face as he held your gaze.

“Yes,” he said after a moment. “One of these weeks.”

It wasn’t a lie. He had plans for you to meet his family eventually. But not now. Not yet. Right now, he wanted you all to himself, with no distractions, no outside influences. If you met them too soon, they might say things, ask questions, things that could make you think too much.

And he couldn’t have that.

Not when everything was falling into place so perfectly.

His parents were good people. Sweet, jolly, loving. Just like yours. And they loved him, he knew that.

But love didn’t always mean understanding.

Everything changed when they decided to move him away from you after high school. That was their mistake.

His family used to own a food company. It was doing well, until it wasn’t. Bankruptcy hit hard, and they had to pack up and start over in another country, relying on relatives to get back on their feet. Then, years later, some investor showed up, talking big about bringing the company back. His parents ate it up, convinced this was their second chance.

And just like that, they dragged him back to Busan.

For what? A company that was never going to make it? He knew from the start it wouldn’t work, and surprise, surprise. It didn’t.

But that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was being away from you.

That shit messed him up.

The years without you were torture.

They twisted his mind, frayed the edges of his sanity. Every single day without you bothered him, turned his thoughts into something negative, something desperate. He had spent so many nights thinking of you, wanting you, missing you so badly that he almost left everything behind just to find you again.

But, of course, it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t that easy. He needed a plan.

And now?

Now, everything he had, everything he built, it was all for you.

And he wasn’t going to lose you again.

Your first few days in Seoul were everything you imagined. New places, new experiences, a whole different world to explore. You wanted to do everything at once, squeezing a week’s worth of plans into a single day.

Jungkook found it cute. Exhausting, but cute.

Still, he didn’t like how restless you were. There was no need to rush. You had all the time in the world here with him.

“I saw this huge library in Gangnam,” you said over dinner in Hongdae, eyes practically glowing with excitement. “I think it’d be nice to spend a whole day there, just working and reading. What do you think?”

Jungkook glanced at you, chewing slowly. “You wanna work there for a day, hmm?” His voice was gentle, but his grip on his chopsticks tightened slightly.

He wanted you to enjoy Seoul, but he preferred to pace things out. He had everything planned, not just for the city, but for the rest of South Korea. And you’d explore it all his way.

“Yeah, I just wanna try working outside your apartment for a change. I think that’d be cool,” you said, sipping your drink.

Of course, your job let you work remotely. Because of him.

It wasn’t difficult to pull some strings, to make sure your company gave you that freedom. Jungkook could’ve had you quit altogether if he wanted, but he wasn’t reckless. He knew better than to push too hard, too soon.

He had limits. The kind that kept you from slipping away.

“Okay, you can do that tomorrow.”

As much as he wanted to be with you every second of the day, he couldn’t. He had business to handle too. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping an eye on you.

You weren’t familiar with Seoul yet, and he needed you to be. He wanted you to settle in, to feel at home here the same way you did back in your country because that’s exactly what he planned for. 

Of course, he wasn’t reckless. He wouldn’t just send you off on your own without precautions. He had someone watching, just in case. It wasn’t about control, it was about keeping you safe. People might think he was being overbearing, but they didn’t understand. If you have something precious, you don’t risk losing it. You protect it.

And he already lost you once. That wasn’t happening again.

—

Sitting in a high-rise conference room, discussing market expansion with Seoul’s biggest executives, Jungkook casually checked his phone under the table. His screen lit up with your activity, a habit he never planned to break.

You were at home. That was good. But you’d been on a phone call for almost an hour.

His jaw tightened. Who the hell were you talking to for that long?

He didn’t have full access to your conversations, just enough to know where you were and what you were doing on your phone. Usually, it was nothing out of the ordinary. But this? This was new. And he didn’t like surprises.

Jungkook locked his phone and leaned back in his chair, eyes unreadable as the meeting droned on.

It could be your friends. It could be your family. It could be anyone.

But the fact that he didn’t know was driving him insane.

“We’re positioning ourselves as a premium alternative. Market research shows a gap in high-end offerings for this industry, and we intend to fill that space,” Yoongi, the CEO, said, but Jungkook barely heard him.

His grip tightened on his phone as he stared at your activity log. The timestamp kept ticking up. Forty-five minutes, then fifty, then an hour. Who the hell were you talking to for that long?

Mina? Chloe? Fine. He could tolerate that.

But it could also be Henry.

Fuck him.

Jungkook clenched his jaw. He knew Henry was “just a friend,” but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He didn’t like you talking to any man, let alone being friends with one. If it were up to him, he would’ve cut Henry off years ago.

“Mr. Jeon?”

Jungkook blinked, snapping out of it when he heard his name. He glanced up from his phone, locking the screen before looking at Yoongi.

“Come again?” he asked, voice steady despite the irritation simmering beneath it.

“As I mentioned, we’re positioning ourselves as a high-end alternative. Market research reveals a lack of premium options in this industry, and we plan to capitalize on that opportunity,” yoongi repeated, watching him carefully.

Jungkook exhaled, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“Good,” he said coolly. “But I want clear numbers. Expected ROI, break-even timeline, and contingency plans if the initial launch underperforms. Email them to me by my Monday.”

Yoongi nodded, but Jungkook wasn’t paying attention anymore.

He cut the meeting short without a second thought, pushing back his other appointments. He needed to go home. Now.

The thought of you on the phone for over an hour, laughing, talking, confiding in someone while he was stuck in a boardroom made his blood boil. He couldn’t stand not knowing. He needed to be in control, needed to know every little detail, even the things that weren’t his business. Because when it came to you, everything was his business.

When he stepped into the penthouse, the sight of you greeted him instantly. You were in the receiving area, vacuuming, completely unaware of how restless he’d been.

You’d been here for a week already, and as much as he was letting you do whatever you wanted, he was also watching. Watching what you did, who you talked to, how you spent your time.

“You’re home early. I thought you weren’t coming back until dinner,” you said, smiling as he walked toward you. He pressed a quick kiss against your lips, but his mind was elsewhere.

“Yeah, I am,” he said smoothly, shrugging off his coat. “How are you doing, Y/N?”

You turned off the vacuum, stretching your arms a little. “I’m good. Just cleaning up a bit.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered around the room until he spotted your phone on the center table.

“What did you do today?” Jungkook asked, watching you closely, waiting, hoping you’d tell him without him having to drag it out of you.

You glanced at him briefly. “Just cleaned up a little and got some work done this morning.”

Not the answer he wanted.

If you were going to tell him about that damn phone call, you would’ve said it by now. But you didn’t.

He couldn’t ask outright, not yet. He knew how easily thoughts could plant themselves in your mind, and he didn’t need you questioning things. He’d find another way to figure it out.

Then you hesitated, inhaling like you had something to say. Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Jungkook leaned against the counter, loosening his tie. “You wanna say something, love?”

You finally spoke. “We’ve been here for a week already, but… we haven’t really done much for a vacation.”

Ah.

You didn’t even need to finish. He already knew where this was going.

“I know you’re really busy with work, but I was just wondering… how long are we planning to stay here?”

Jungkook stared at you for a moment before tilting his head slightly, lips twitching in amusement. “Why? You wanna go home already?”

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head. “Of course not! I was just curious… I mean, we’re here for a vacation, but you work a lot.”

He knew what you meant, but that didn’t mean he liked hearing it.

“Oh? I didn’t realize we weren’t allowed to work during a vacation.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, one brow raised.

“That’s not what I meant,” you huffed. “I just—I was just wondering—”

Jungkook cut you off, nodding as if he was mocking you. “I get it. You want us to go out more instead of me working.”

“N-no, that’s not—”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” His voice was smooth, sharp eyes locked onto you. “I get your point. We’ll do things your way.”

Except you didn’t need to say it. He already knew what was on your mind. But he wasn’t going to let you say it.

True to his word, Jungkook made sure to give you what you wanted.

For the next week, he took you around the city showing you Seoul through his own curated version of it. He noticed the way your mood shifted, heavier than before, and he knew it was because of that conversation.

But he didn’t have to address it.

Because soon enough, you’d forget about it.

Just like right now.

—

You were sipping a hot coffee, eyes locked on the dazzling view from Namsan Tower. The city stretched beneath you, glowing under the deep night sky, and Jungkook knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Wow. Seoul is really beautiful, Kook,” you murmured, your voice full of wonder.

But he wasn’t looking at the view.

He was looking at you.

You were glowing under the soft moonlight, the city lights reflecting in your eyes. He should be admiring the skyline, but you were the only thing worth looking at. He hated how much he loved moments like this, how much he wanted to preserve them.

So, without a word, he pulled his phone from his pocket, aimed the camera at you, and snapped a photo.

You notice Jungkook taking a picture of you, and without hesitation, you step closer, snatching his phone from his hand. A grin spreads across your face as you switch to the front camera.

“Come on, Kook, smile!” you say, glancing at him before snapping a quick selfie. The first shot catches him off guard, his expression unreadable, but you don’t stop there. You take a few more. Three, to be exact until you're satisfied.

Jungook watches you quietly, letting you have your moment.

“Honestly, a picture doesn’t even do justice to how beautiful this city is,” you say, handing his phone back before turning to admire the view again.

His gaze lingers on you for a second longer before he finally looks at the skyline, pretending to take in the same sight you are. “Yeah, you’re right,” he says, voice smooth, controlled.

You glance at him, eyes curious. “Since you’ve lived here most of your life, are you used to seeing this view?”

Jungkook leans against the railing, watching the city lights flicker. “Hmm… I’d say yes, but I still find it beautiful.”

You hum in response, sipping your coffee. “Our city is nice too, but maybe I appreciate this more since it’s my first time here.”

A slow smirk tugs at Jungkook’s lips. Good.

Because you’d be here longer than you expected.

And by the time you realized it… you’d already have fallen in love with it.

You both linger around Namsan Tower a little longer, strolling past the endless sea of love locks. The air is crisp, carrying the quiet hum of the city below. You stop at a small booth selling locks, eyes lighting up as you pick one.

“Kook, let’s do one,” you say, already reaching for a marker. You scribble your initials on the lock, then his, before securing it onto the fence. With a grin, you toss the key away, watching it disappear into the night.

Jungkook watches you, amusement flickering in his eyes. You think this lock is what symbolizes your unbreakable bond? That’s cute. But it’s unnecessary. 

With or without it, you’re his. He’ll make sure of that.

Jungkook slips an arm around your waist, pulling you in as he looks down at the love lock you just attached. “Unbreakable, huh?” he murmurs, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

If only you knew how true that was.

You’ve done almost everything there is to do in Seoul, and he knows you’ve loved every second of it. From the food to the culture, every little thing has captivated you. And watching you take it all in, smiling like this city is your new home, it’s a sight he could never get tired of.

One of the things he’s grown to love about you is how easily pleased you are. The smallest things make you happy, and that makes you easy to care for. Easy to keep close.

Even back in high school, you saw something in him that others didn’t. When people distanced themselves, you stayed. When they looked away, you looked closer. You chose him, even when no one else would.

Maybe it was a pity. Maybe it was something deeper. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that you loved him, and that was enough. Enough for him to hold on, to fight for this, to shape this love into something unshakable. What others thought of him was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was you, your choices, your opinions. And as long as he could help it, your choices would always align with his. Even if that meant guiding them himself.

He took you around South Korea, but on his terms. It wasn’t the kind of vacation where every day was a new adventure. No, he kept it balanced. Some days for exploring, some for work. That was how it had to be.

You never argued. Never complained. Whether it was because you didn’t mind or because you simply chose not to voice it, he didn’t care. Silence was compliance, and compliance meant control.

And that’s exactly how he wanted it. 

Jungkook followed a step behind you as you traced your fingers along the cold metal railing, your gaze lost in the beauty of Nami Island. The soft autumn breeze played with the hem of your pleated skirt, your oversized knitted sweater draping over your frame in a way that made you look so warm, so delicate. He couldn’t wait to take you home, wrap you up in his arms, and keep you there for as long as he wanted.

You stopped suddenly, turning to him with a soft smile. It was enough to make his heart stutter, but there was something in your eyes. Something distant. He quickened his pace, closing the space between you, and without a word, he took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as you walked side by side.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Kook,” you said, your voice light but careful.

He glanced at you, studying your expression. You were smiling, but he knew you too well, something was off. 

“It’s a pleasure, love.” He waited, expecting you to say more. But you didn’t.

He hated that.

“How much do you love your stay here?” His tone was casual, but the question wasn’t.

“I really love it here, Jungkook. I really do. Korea is so different from home, but still, I love it here.”

Home.

The word made something dark coil inside him.

He pulled you closer, guiding your head against his chest before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He held you there as you walked together, feeling the warmth of your body against his, the way you fit so perfectly against him. You were his home, his peace. His.

But no matter how tightly he held on, he couldn’t control everything. He could make every decision for you, shape every choice in his favor, but there was one thing he hadn’t accounted for:

The possibility that you might make a choice of your own.

And that was the one thing he wasn’t prepared for.

Jungkook barely had time to remove his coat when he saw the worry in your eyes. You looked like you’d been waiting for him for a while, pacing, rehearsing your words. He already didn’t like where this was going.

“Jungkook,” you started, your voice edged with hesitation. “I just had a meeting with our senior. They need me back for a presentation with new investors and stakeholders. I also have to report to the board—”

He stopped listening. He didn’t need to hear the rest. The way your voice wavered, the way you clutched your hands together, he already knew what you were about to ask.

“Then let someone else handle it.” His tone was clipped, final, like it was the simplest solution in the world.

“I can’t!” Your frustration spilled over, your voice rising slightly. “I’m the Investor Relations Manager. It’s my job, Kook! No one else can do it.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened.

He had already let you keep your job even though he preferred otherwise. It was his choice to allow it. And now, you were asking him to choose again? To let you go back?

“When are we going home?” Your voice softened, practically pleading now. “Kook, they really need me this time.”

He held your gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable, then casually looked away as he removed his coat, his movements slow, deliberate.

“I’m not sure,” he finally said, shaking off invisible creases in the fabric. “I’ll be busy for the next couple of weeks. I have deals to close, business meetings to attend. You know how it is.”

You swallowed hard. “Then can I go home first?”

That made him stop. Completely.

His fingers curled around the fabric of his coat, knuckles whitening as the air between you turned still. His dark eyes lifted to meet yours, and something flickered behind them. Something unreadable yet unmistakably dangerous.

“You’re leaving me?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, but underneath it was something else.

Panic.

You stepped closer, shaking your head quickly. “Kook, I’m not leaving you. I just— I really need to go back. Just for work.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he let out a slow, humorless scoff.

“Wow,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “After everything I’ve done for you, is it that easy for you to leave? Just because they called you? What? Once?”

“That’s not—”

Jungkook’s fingers twitched at his side, his breathing slow, controlled—too controlled. He could feel his patience thinning, unraveling like a loose thread he was trying desperately to keep together.

“They told you before?” His voice was quiet, almost calm, but there was something beneath it. Something sharp. “And you didn’t tell me?”

You flinched slightly. “I didn’t want to ruin your mood,” you admitted.

He let out a slow breath through his nose, jaw locking. “And now you’re blaming me?”

You pressed your lips together, frustration flickering across your face. “No, of course not! I just—I didn’t want to ruin our vacation, Jungkook. That’s why I kept it to myself. But I have to tell you now.”

He scoffed. “And you don’t think telling me now ruins it?”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“Well, that’s exactly what you meant, Y/N!” His voice was sharper now.

You blinked at him, startled by the sudden shift. He rarely raised his voice, but when he did, it was like a storm brewing, low, intense, unpredictable.

“I’ve been here, juggling everything. Work, time with you, making sure you have everything you need. And you—” He let out a dry laugh. “The second they call, you’re ready to drop everything. Just like that.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. No words came out.

Jungkook tilted his head, studying you. The way your hands trembled slightly at your sides, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed back emotions you were trying so hard to hide.

He should feel guilty. He should care.

But he didn’t.

“The worst part?” His voice was softer now, but it was the kind of softness that made the air feel heavy. “You prove to me, over and over again, that I will never be your priority.”

A tear slipped from the corner of your eye, but he didn’t move. Didn’t reach for you.

Let you feel it. Let you sit in it.

Because this wasn’t just about work. This was about control.

And he refused to lose it.

“If you’re so desperate to leave,” he finally said, turning away, his voice cold and detached, “then go.”

He didn’t wait for a response.

Didn’t need to.

Because he already knew that you won’t leave.

He couldn’t understand why you insisted on working. It wasn’t like you had to. He was here, ready to give you everything. Yet, you kept holding on to something so insignificant when he had already built an entire fucking empire for you. Every deal, every dollar, every sacrifice, it was all for you.

When he started making real money, it wasn’t greed that drove him It was you. You were the reason he clawed his way to the top, the reason he burned through sleepless nights, the reason he never let himself fail. He stayed away, kept his distance, let you live your little life because he wanted to come back when he was ready, when he was powerful enough to make sure you could never slip through his fingers again.

The person you knew in high school? He buried him. In his place stands someone unrecognizable, someone untouchable. And yet, no matter how much money, status, or control he has, the thought of you walking away still eats him alive.

So before that can happen, he’s already making sure it won’t. Because what’s the point of having everything if he doesn’t have you?

You’re the only fucking reason he has to live.

Jungkook yanked his phone from his pocket, his fingers moving swiftly as he dialed the CEO of your company. He knew you wouldn’t leave. Not really. You couldn’t. But he wasn’t the type to sit back and hope. He made sure of things. He always did.

“Y/N won’t be coming back,” he said the moment the call connected, his tone cold, final. “Fire her. Tell her she’s being replaced by someone more competent.”

There was no hesitation on the other end. Just immediate agreement. As it should be. The moment the call ended, he exhaled slowly, satisfied.

He worked too hard, built too much, just to have you run back to a life that no longer served his plans. Everything he had, his success, his power, it was all for you. But if your choices didn’t align with his? Then you didn’t need choices at all. He still let you think you had them, of course. As long as they led exactly where he wanted.

And sure enough, he was right. You didn’t leave. Because for what? Work? You didn’t have one anymore.

He watched as you withdrew, as you curled in on yourself, as you let the weight of everything settle in. He didn’t stop you when you pulled away, when you cried, when you let yourself crumble under the reality he created for you. He let you feel the loss, the loneliness. Not because he didn’t care. Of course, he cared. He always cared.

But sometimes, he had to let you break on your own. Because only then would you finally see, he was all you had. Just like you were all he needed.

Of course, he didn’t let you cry alone the whole time. He gave you space just enough to let the weight of everything sink in, to let you feel small, lost. But he was always there, lingering in the background, ready to be the only comfort you had left.

Because he would never leave you to suffer on your own. Not when he was the one who put you in this position in the first place. But you didn’t need to know that.

Now, in the dim glow of the bedroom, he held you close, feeling the way your body trembled against his. His arms were firm around you, securing you exactly where you belonged. Right here, with him. He leaned against the headboard, his fingers tracing slow, soothing patterns on your arm, his presence steady, inescapable.

“I know it hurts now, love,” he murmured, his voice soft, patient, the perfect contrast to the chaos he caused. “But maybe it’s for the best. Maybe this happened for a reason. You’ll be fine… Trust me. As long as you’re with me, you’ll be fine.”

He wiped the tears from your cheeks with gentle fingers, studying your face as if memorizing every vulnerable detail. And you didn’t say a word. You didn’t ask for help, didn’t fight to get your job back, didn’t even question why it all happened so suddenly.

Nothing.

Only quiet sobs escaped your lips.

And that was fine. More than fine.

Because as long as this kept you here, exactly where he wanted you. He could live with that.

You stayed home for the following days. Barely leaving the bedroom. Jungkook let you be, giving you space while he handled business, but that only worked in his favor. You weren’t going anywhere, and he didn’t have to worry too much. Not when he had eyes on you the entire time.

Of course, you didn’t know about the hidden CCTV in the apartment. You didn’t need to.

Most of the time, when he checked the feed, you were either sleeping, mindlessly scrolling on your phone, or watching TV. You looked drained, distant. Maybe even depressed. But he wasn’t too concerned. You’d be fine. You always were.

He also monitored your phone activity. He saw the messages, the way you still kept in touch with your friends and family, updating them on your life. But he noticed how carefully you chose your words, how you left things out.

And that? That satisfied him.

You defended him without being asked, without him even having to plant the idea in your head. You already knew what he wanted. You knew exactly what to say, how to make them believe that everything was fine. That’s how he knew you loved him just as much as he loved you.

You were such a good girl for him. So obedient.

He knew your friends didn’t like him especially Mina. Not that it mattered. If anything, it thrilled him to watch you choose him over them every time. To watch you stand by him, no matter what.

It felt so good.

And he wasn’t going to let you drown in misery forever. No, he made sure of that.

For the past week, he took you out every day. Five-star restaurants, designer boutiques, all your favorite places. He made sure you were surrounded by luxury, by comfort, by him. He wiped away every trace of sadness, covering it up with indulgence, making you forget, if only for a moment what had been taken from you.

But he wasn’t blind. He saw the shift in you. The way your smiles were forced. The way your laughter lacked its usual warmth. The way you were starting to notice.

But he didn’t have to do anything about it.

Not yet.

Because sooner or later, you’d understand. The life he was giving you was far better than the one you had before.

And when that realization finally sank in?

You wouldn’t want to leave.

—

Just like he promised, he was taking you to Busan to meet his family. It felt like a necessary step. An assurance of his love for you. A way to solidify things, to remind you that he was willing to give you everything, even parts of himself he didn’t care for.

He also figured this trip would help. A change of scenery. New faces. Because lately, the only person you had been around was him. Not that he minded, but he didn’t want you to feel isolated. Even if, in reality, that was exactly what was happening.

His relationship with his parents had never been close. Even as a kid, there was always distance. But after they dragged him back to Korea, forcing him away from you, that’s when he truly cut them off.

The only reason he still tolerated them now was simple.

They were the reason he worked so hard. The reason he built everything from the ground up. The reason he clawed his way to the top, just to have you in his arms again.

If not for that, he wouldn’t even spare them a second thought.

"I'm really glad you finally visited us after so many years, son. And you even brought your girlfriend with you," Jungkook’s mother said, her voice warm with nostalgia.

Jungkook barely reacted, keeping his expression smooth as he sliced through his food. You and he sat at the dining table with his parents, the scent of simmered broth and fresh side dishes filling the space. His parents were thrilled, probably thinking this visit meant something.

They had no idea how he really felt. And they didn’t need to.

“What do you do for a living?” His father’s voice cut through the quiet clatter of utensils. The question was aimed at you, and instantly, Jungkook felt your body tense beside him. Your hand, which had been resting lightly on the table, twitched just slightly and he clenched his chopsticks tighter.

Before you could even answer, he spoke for you. “She’s taking a break right now. That’s why we’re here for a long time.” His voice was even, but his grip had turned rigid.

You turned to him, your expression unreadable, but he refused to meet your eyes. Instead, he continued eating, slow and controlled.

“Really? But what did you do before?” His mother chimed in, her curiosity laced with harmless interest.

He wanted to shut this conversation down. Shift it away. Stop them from prying. But he had to play along.

“I was an Investor Relations Manager,” you answered, offering a small, polite smile before turning your focus back to your food.

His father hummed in acknowledgment, then turned to Jungkook. “Investor, huh? As I recall, your business is in the same field, isn’t it?”

Jungkook stabbed his chopsticks into a piece of meat, his jaw tightening.

“You never tell us much about your life. Even your business,” his mother added.

"All we know is you’re making millions and millions every day. If only you invested in your own parents’ business, that would be great.”

Jungkook mentally rolled his eyes, keeping his expression unreadable.

He would never invest in something like that.

And he sure as hell would never invest in the very thing that tore him away from you.

Jungkook could feel your eyes on him, waiting for a response. But he kept his gaze fixed on his food, forcing himself to chew slowly. It wasn’t worth talking about. Not now. Not ever.

Sensing the silence stretching too long, you spoke up instead.

“Actually, Jungkook and I met at work, and before that, the last time we saw each other was in high school. That’s where we really got to know each other.”

His mother giggled, a soft, nostalgic sound. “I still can’t believe you two are high school sweet—”

“Honey, they were only friends in high school!” His father cut in with a laugh.

“Oh, right! But if we hadn’t moved back here, maybe you two would’ve been dating since then!”

Jungkook tightened his grip on his chopsticks. The conversation was light, harmless even. But he wasn’t stupid. He noticed how you shifted in your seat, how your fingers grazed the table absentmindedly like you were holding something back. He could read you too well. He knew there was something you wanted to say but you didn’t.

And he had a feeling he knew exactly what it was.

“If only he had introduced you to us before!” His mother sighed wistfully before turning her gaze to Jungkook. “You know, he was different when he was younger. More… open, I suppose. But ever since we moved back here, he became quiet, distant. We knew he wanted to stay in your country, he even begged us to go back but it wasn’t that simple.”

She looked at him then, a sad, longing expression crossing her face. “We’re proud of the man he’s become, of course. We just wish he could be open with us again. Let us back into his life.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched. The sound of his father’s spoon clinking against his bowl suddenly felt too loud. The warm aroma of the food became nauseating.

This. This right here was why he had kept his distance. Why he loathed them.

Pathetic.

They sat there, spewing bullshit, acting as if they were the victims. Acting as if they deserved his time, his emotions, his fucking pity. They had no idea. They never took responsibility. Instead, they pointed fingers at him, as if it was his fault that everything turned out this way.

But it wasn’t.

It was theirs.

He was already done with this conversation. Done with this entire visit. He needed to get out of here.

With you.

The lunch dragged on longer than Jungkook would have liked. His parents kept the conversation going, moving from small talk to stories about their old business. Their grand rise and inevitable failure. They spoke as if reminiscing about something tragic, but all Jungkook heard was noise.

He barely touched his food, his jaw tightening every time they brought up the past. He masked his irritation well, but the tension in his grip against his chopsticks was telling. He just wanted to leave.

This was exactly why he never wanted to come here. Why he never wanted you to meet them. They talked too much. About things that didn’t matter. About things he never wanted you to hear.

And now, he could already tell. You had questions. You always did when something didn’t add up. And right now, after everything his parents had carelessly spilled, your mind must be full of them.

Of course, you didn’t ask in front of them. You wouldn’t. But he knew you too well.

And he was right.

Because the moment the car was back on the road, heading toward Seoul, your voice broke the silence.

“Your parents are nice.” Your voice was light, but Jungkook could hear the underlying curiosity.

“Uh-huh.” His response was flat, laced with sarcasm.

“They even wanted us to stay. They’re really accommodating, Kook.”

He saw you glance at him from the corner of his eye, but he kept his gaze locked on the road. His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.

“I have a meeting first thing in the morning.”

Without warning, he overtook the car in front of him, the sudden movement making you flinch. 

“Sorry, love.” His voice softened, one hand briefly leaving the wheel to rest on your thigh. A gentle caress.

He had spent all his patience back at that house. The last thing he wanted was to talk about his parents again.

“I didn’t know you had an older brother.” Your tone was casual, but there was something beneath it. An unspoken challenge. “It sucks that I only found out now. I just realized… I barely know anything about your past.” You sighed. “I feel bad.”

“That’s why I brought you home to meet them,” he said, hoping it didn’t sound as sarcastic as it felt.

You studied him for a moment, like you were trying to read him. He gave you a small smile, his hand still resting on your thigh, fingers tracing lazy circles. A distraction. A way to keep you comfortable.

Then, you caught him off guard.

“Kook, why didn’t you invest in your parents’ business?”

His grip on the wheel tightened. He didn’t expect that.

You continued before he could answer. “You’re a big-time investor, right? It would help them a lot.”

“It’s not worth investing in. It’s already a failed business.” His tone was neutral, controlled.

“But they loved that business. Losing it broke them. Isn’t there any chance of bringing it back?”

“No.” His voice was sharp, final. “If there was, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

That was a lie. Even if their business was worth saving, he still wouldn’t do it. They didn’t deserve it. They didn’t deserve anything from him.

You looked at him again, hesitant, like you wanted to push further. To unravel the parts of him he kept hidden. But then, you seemed to realize he wasn’t in the mood to talk about it.

So you stayed quiet.

Good.

As much as he wanted to tell you everything, how his parents ruined his life, how they ripped him away from you, he couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk you looking at him differently.

He’d rather keep you in the dark than let you see the parts of him he didn’t want you to understand.

—

It’s been a week since you and Jungkook visited his parents. And two weeks  since you lost your job.

You haven’t told him about it. You haven’t asked about going home either. Not once. And it’s better that way. If you did, he already had an answer prepared, but he preferred that you didn’t ask at all.

You’ve become more obedient, following his lead without hesitation. You don’t ask for anything anymore. You don’t make requests. You just… comply.

It should make him happy. He decides what’s best for you, after all. But he doesn’t want you to turn into a lifeless doll, either. You should still function like a normal girlfriend and hold onto him like you need him.

And you do need him.

Jungkook wants to give you everything, especially now that you’re finally settling into his rhythm. He wonders if you realize how much he adores you like this. Maybe you don’t. Maybe you think this is just another day, another morning, another moment.

But to him, it’s everything.

You’re sleeping beside him, curled up and peaceful, completely unaware of his gaze lingering on you. His love for you grows stronger every day, so intense it nearly overwhelms him. It consumes him.

He rests his head on his arm, watching you, memorizing the way your lashes flutter faintly with every slow breath. His free hand moves on its own, fingers ghosting over your cheek.

His heart pounds in his ears.

The back of his fingers trail down to your lips, tracing the soft curve of them. You don’t even stir. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering longer than necessary.

Then, his fingers drift lower, down your arm, feeling the warmth of your skin. So soft. So delicate. His.

He could feel a familiar sensation growing between his legs as he touched your soft skin. He tried to ignore it but failed. The more he touched you, the more he thought about how much he wanted to be with you. He couldn't stop imagining all the ways he wanted to touch you, to be inside you. He felt his self-control slipping away as he placed his thumb finger on your lower lip, imagining how it would feel wrapped around him.

He couldn't help but look at your body, the outline of your breasts visible through your flimsy pajamas.

He have touched you several times but the sensation and feeling of your body was so intoxicating and addicting he couldn't get enough.

Fuck, Y/N.

He can barely keep himself from losing control. He desperately wants to bend you over and taste your lips but he knows that's not what he's supposed to do, so instead he slowly pulled his dick out and began to slowly stroke it while you sleep beside him, teasing himself.

He can’t help it but want to press you against the bed, taking in and enjoying every curve of your body, but he knows he can’t do that. Not now. He takes your hand softly in his, holding it warmly. His other hand slowly teases his dick, imagining how you’d feel under him, as he stares directly at your pretty face, his thoughts filled with nothing but how desperately he wants you, yet he holds himself back.

Damn it, love. 

He gripped himself tightly, his dick throbbing and leaking a small amount of cum that he eagerly spread over himself, slicking his movements as he pumped it harder and harder, his eyes locked onto your peaceful sleeping face, silently begging for you to wake.

His hands, despite his best efforts to keep them still, began to roam down your body, splaying out over your stomach and slowly inching lower until his fingers splayed out over your pussy through the thin fabric of your sleepwear.

He wanted you to wake up as his body already halfway there even without your touch. He hoped your eyes would flutter open and catch him like this, his pants tented, his hips subtly humping the air, his hands twitching with the urge to grope your body again unconsciously.

"Fuck..." he hissed under his breath, losing control as his hand moved faster over his length, the wet sounds filling the room.

"Love..." he moaned your nickname, imagining it was your hand, your mouth, your heat around him rather than his own hands. 

The soft, sensual moan that escaped your lips in your sleep sent electric jolts through him, making his grip on his dick tighten as he continued to stroke himself feverishly. He scooted closer, his fingers teasing your pussy through your clothes, rubbing slow circles over it.

His breath hitched as he felt the dampness seeping through your thin pajama bottoms, signaling your body's unconscious response to his touches. He gently slipped his hand inside, finding your folds slick and warm, a soft whimper escaping his lips at the contact.

As your eyes flutter open, you catch the erotic sight before you. Jungkook was furiously pumping his dick, clear fluid leaking steadily from the tip. The wet, obscene sounds of his strokes filled the air.

“K-kook, what are you doing?” Your voice was low and husky and your arousal was obvious, making him lose control faster.

Without warning, he covered your body with his, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, dominating it as his body pressed you into the mattress. His weight pushed your smaller frame down, causing your chest to rise and fall rapidly.

He humped against your center like a wild animal, marking your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses and sucking hickeys onto your jaw. His lips traveled down your chin, your jawline, your neck, leaving red, passionate marks. He was practically dry humping you, his control shot.

"Love..." He growled softly, hearing your shaky voice. Your arousal made him hungry. He yanked your shirt off, his mouth latching onto your breast without warning. You threw your head back with a loud moan as he sucked hard, his other hand pinching and rolling your nipple.

He could feel your softness against his tongue, the way you filled his mouth perfectly. He sucked harder, his hand squeezing your other breast possessively.

He kissed lower, trailing his lips down your stomach, his hands pulling your pajama bottoms down slowly. He peppered kisses on your pelvis, his hot breath tickling your lower belly. "Lift your hips, Y/N..." He whispered, his voice muffled against your skin.

He spread your thighs wider, diving between them. He flattened his tongue against your entrance, licking upwards to catch your wetness. "Damn," He muttered, watching you toss your head back. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly while pushing two fingers inside you.

God, you’re so fucking beautiful.

He watches you play with your breasts. Your fingers twisting your hard peaks made him harder. He pushed his fingers deeper, his mouth suctioning around your clit. Your moans grew louder, your back arching off the bed. His free hand spread your thighs wider apart.

Your nails dug deeper into the bed as you neared the edge. He suddenly pulled back, leaving you empty and disappointed. Before you could protest, he pulled his pants down and pressed the tip of his hard dick against your clit. His head rested on top of you, grinding his tip against you.

"K-kook… please?" He smirked wickedly, watching you throw your head back. He ground his tip against your sensitive nub, teasing you. 

He paused his tease and grabbed your face, staring harshly into your eyes. "Remember this...you're mine." He grumbled, crashing his lips against yours. The kiss was desperate and hungry, his tongue dominating yours immediately. He pushed his tip inside you slowly before thrusting hard. “Do you understand that?”

"Do you understand?!” He growled, his deep voice echoing. He thrusts his hips harder, watching your breasts bounce. He repeated himself slower, "Answer the damn question." His fingers dug into your hips painfully. "Use your words,"

"Yes!” You answered with a tear in your eyes as his movement became faster.

"Fuck, Y/N," he panted against your lips, his body shaking when both of you reach orgasm. He remained buried deep inside you, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're mine. Only. Mine." He enunciated each word slowly, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. When he broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes filled with love and adoration. “I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much it hurts.”

—

You’re such a good girl. So obedient. So perfect for him.

Jungkook always knew you’d get there eventually. You’re adjusting—slowly, but that’s okay. He can be patient. He understands that change takes time.

But he’s not blind. He sees how quiet you’ve become, how your laughter has faded into silence. You talk less, do less. Even when he offers to take you out, most of the time, your refuse. You spend most of your time curled up in bed, staring at your phone or watching TV, lost in some world that isn’t his.

That’s fine. You’ll come around.

He tells himself it’s just part of the process. Your adjustment period. You’re still settling into your new reality, learning to accept that this is your home now.

But even if he understands, that doesn’t mean he likes it.

He misses the way you used to be. The spark in your eyes, the way you used to tease him, the way you’d reach for him without thinking. That version of you is slipping away, fading like a dream upon waking.

Does he regret this? Is he having second thoughts?

Never.

This is only temporary. He knows that if he wavers now, if he lets himself get soft, he’ll never have what he truly wants.

So he won’t.

Instead, he’ll remind you.

He’ll give you all the attention you need, fill every empty space in your mind until there’s no room left for doubt.

“Lately, you’ve been watching a lot of baking videos,” Jungkook muses, his voice casual. It’s a quiet Friday afternoon, and he got home earlier than usual. You’re curled up on the couch, a snack in hand, eyes fixed on the TV.

He moves closer, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck before catching your lips. He feels you relax beneath him, just slightly.

“Nothing really to watch,” you reply, brushing it off.

Jungkook settles beside you, his gaze never leaving you as he reaches for a snack. His fingers trail absentmindedly along your thigh, slow and deliberate.

“I was thinking,” he starts, his tone light, “maybe you’d like to take baking lessons? Learn how to do it yourself.”

“That’s not necessary, Kook,” you say with a small laugh. “I just find it entertaining, that’s all.”

He hums, rubbing slow circles into your skin. “Then do you want to do something? Yoga classes, maybe?”

Silence.

You hold his gaze, but there’s something in your expression that makes his stomach tighten. You hesitate, as if weighing whether to say what’s really on your mind. And suddenly, he regrets even asking.

He should change the subject. He should pull you back into something softer, safer. But before he can, you speak.

“Well, if you have something in—”

“When are we going home?”

His whole body stills.

For a second, he doesn’t move. The words settle between you, heavy and suffocating. He exhales, slow and measured, before finally standing.

“I’m not sure yet,” he says, already walking toward the dining hall. “I told you, I have a lot to handle, love. I’ll let you know when.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for your response. He turns on his heel, heading toward the dining hall. He pulls the refrigerator open as he grabs a bottle of water, twisting the cap off before pouring himself a glass. The sound of liquid hitting glass fills the silence.

He knows you're there before he even turns around.

Your presence lingers, hesitant but heavy. He takes his time, swallowing the water then he finally turns to face you.

“I miss home, Kook.”

Home. That fucking word again.

Ever since you started mentioning home, Jungkook has felt a slow, burning irritation clawing at him. The word itself is harmless, but coming from your lips, it feels like a blade. You and he have different definitions of home, and every time you say it, it grates against his nerves.

“We’ve been here for three months already, and I really, really miss home.” Your voice wavers, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and it makes his irritation flare hotter.

“Aren’t we living in the same home either way?” His voice drips with sarcasm, his patience thinning.

“That’s not what I mean. I miss my family, my friends, my country—”

“And you don’t think I feel that too?” He cuts you off, his tone sharper now.

The glass in his hand meets the kitchen island with a dull thud, his fingers tightening around the rim before he releases it. His gaze, dark and unreadable, locks onto yours.

“Do you think I don’t want to go back?” He exhales harshly. “I planned to stay here for a vacation. But I had to handle so many things because, for what? To fucking build the life I want for us!” His voice rises, his frustration cracking through the surface. “I’m not doing this for myself, Y/N. I’m doing this to secure our future.”

Tears finally spill down your cheeks as you look at him, and something about it. The way you’re crying, the way you’re making him feel like the villain making his jaw tighten.

“Tell me,” he steps forward, closing the distance between you, his presence towering over you, “do you really think I’m keeping you here just because I want to?” His voice dips lower, but the intensity in his stare is suffocating.

You shake your head quickly. “Kook, that’s not what I meant!” Your fingers tighten around his, desperate, pleading. “Of course, I appreciate you! I’m sorry if that’s how it sounded, but that’s not what I meant—”

You keep talking, rushing to defend yourself, but Jungkook isn’t listening anymore.

His mind is elsewhere.

Your words dissolve into the background as something deeper stirs inside him. He watches your lips move, watches the way you hold onto him like you’re afraid of slipping away. 

Before you can finish, he pulls his hands away, wiping his own tears like he’s trying to erase the moment entirely.

Then he steps back.

“I think we should give ourselves some space.” His voice is quieter now, but distant, detached. He turns, ready to walk away.

But before he can take another step, you do something that surprises him.

“Jungkook, no!”

Before he can take another step, your arms are around his waist, locking him in place. Your grip is desperate, too tight, too frantic, like you're afraid he'll vanish the second you let go.

“N-no… please, let’s talk about this now! Please don’t leave me again.”

The way your voice breaks sends a thrill through him. You’re crying—really crying—and he didn’t expect it. Not like this.

“Please don’t leave me again! Let’s talk about this now. P-please don’t leave me alone.”

Your hands clutch at his back, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt like you're trying to anchor yourself. When you pull back to look at him, your face is soaked, lips trembling, eyes blown wide with fear. Fear.

His heart pounds so hard it’s almost painful. A rush of something hot, something intoxicating, swirls inside him. You need him.

You really need him.

“W-we can talk about this now. Just please, don’t leave me alone.”

You bury yourself into him again, squeezing so tightly he almost forgets to breathe.

Jungkook stands frozen, overwhelmed by the moment, his pulse hammering in his ears. His breath comes out unsteady as his lips curl into a slow, hidden smile. He wants to laugh. Fuck, he wants to celebrate.

Because this. This is exactly what he’s been waiting for.

You’re clinging to him. Begging. Terrified at the thought of losing him.

You get it now, don’t you?

After a long pause, he finally moves. His hands glide up your back, soothing, reassuring. He exhales softly, letting just enough warmth seep into his voice.

“Okay, love. We’ll fix this.”

He’s too happy. A little too happy.

Your reaction, it was unexpected, raw, perfect. The way you clung to him, the way your voice cracked, the way you begged, fuck, it’s all replaying in his head like a song on repeat. It was beautiful. You need him just as much as he needs you. You just proved it.

And that means one thing: You’ll never leave. Not really.

You might resist, you might hesitate, but in the end, you break exactly how he wants you to. He doesn’t just control you, your whole existence is wrapped around him now, woven into his life so tightly there’s no escape.

But then, why?

Why did you suddenly bring up home? Why now, after all this time?

His jaw tightens. Something triggered you. Something. Or someone.

He doesn’t need to guess. He already knows.

It’s past 2 AM when he finally moves. The room is quiet, bathed in the soft blue glow of the nightlight. You're asleep, curled up in the king-sized bed, your breathing slow, steady and peaceful. Completely unaware.

Jungkook reaches for your phone on the bedside table, unlocking it effortlessly with his Face ID. He leans back on the couch, screen illuminating his face, and scrolls straight to your messages.

He knows exactly where to look.

And of course, he was right.

His smirk is slow, dangerous, curling at the edges as he reads.

You: I miss you too! I’ll see you soon once I return.

Mina: As you should. I’m so sick of being with Henry all the time! When are you even coming home? You’ve been there since forever.

Chloe: Yeah, Y/N. I thought you’d only be there for a vacation? You never said you’d stay this long.

You: Not sure with Jungkook. He has a lot of business to do as of now.

Henry: Are you even part of his business? Last time I checked, you and he were there for a vacation, not for business. Seriously, Y/N, he’s caging you at this point.

His smirk twitches.

And then, there it is. A missed video call, two fucking hours.

Yesterday. While he was too busy working to notice.

His fingers tighten around the phone. Of course. They filled your head with bullshit. 

How stupid of him to let this slip.

It won’t happen again.

He locks the phone and sets it back on the table, gaze flickering toward you. You’re still fast asleep, unaware that your little secret is no longer a secret.

Jungkook leans back, exhaling through his nose, his mind already working.

He’ll fix this.

He always does.

Jungkook doesn’t waste time.

The moment he discovers what your so-called friends have been whispering in your ear, he takes action.

First thing in the morning, before you even stir awake, he makes a call. The kind of call that isn’t exactly legal. By noon, he’s holding a sleek, black signal jammer in his hands, fresh from the black market. Compact, powerful, and silent.

He won’t resort to something as obvious as taking your phone away. That’s not the game he plays. No, no, no. He wants you to believe you’re still in control. That your world isn’t shrinking. That nothing’s changed.

Because that’s the key, you can’t miss what you don’t realize you’ve lost.

He positions the device in a discreet spot, its range wide enough to swallow every signal in the apartment. But, of course, he’s thought ahead. He installs a high-power signal booster for himself because while your world goes dark, his remains crystal clear. He still needs to monitor things. Track things. Track you.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice. The way your fingers swipe at your screen again and again, waiting for something to load. The way your brows knit together when nothing does. The way you glance around, confused, frustrated.

He sees it all. 

Your world is already shrinking, and you don’t even realize it yet.

Jungkook leans back in his chair, a slow smirk forming.

“Weak signals happen sometimes, love. It’ll come back. Don’t worry.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling you onto the couch, wrapping you in his arms as the TV played in the background. What else could you do, really? Without a working connection, entertainment options were limited, and he had to pretend he was dealing with the same issue. TV was the perfect distraction. One that kept you close to him.

In a way, he liked this. No phones, no interruptions. Just the two of you, undisturbed. The thought alone made his heart flutter.

The next day, the situation hadn’t changed, and he knew frustration would start creeping in again. So he took you out. All day, keeping you occupied, keeping your mind off things. You didn’t resist. Why would you? There was nothing to do in the apartment without the internet, no one to talk to, nowhere else to turn.

A museum date. He half-expected you to get bored, but to his surprise, you didn’t. You wandered through the exhibits with wide, fascinated eyes, taking in every detail, pointing out the ones you liked best. Jungkook watched you more than the art. Watched the way your lips curved in a smile, the way your fingers traced the air as you spoke. You weren’t hard to please. Anything he laid out in front of you, you embraced, appreciated, accepted.

That was what made it so easy to love you.

And that was what made him tighten his grip.

Because something so easy, so pure, could be taken away in an instant.

He wouldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not ever. You were already his, and keeping you meant protecting you. Even if you didn’t realize it yet.

For the third, fourth, and fifth day, nothing changed. The signal jammer stayed on, and you stayed unaware. He kept you entertained when he was home, making sure there was always something to distract you. Movies, dinner, his arms wrapped around you on the couch. But when he wasn’t around, all you had was the TV.

That was fine. That was good.

Whenever he was out, he tracked your location. He never mentioned it, of course. He played dumb when you casually told him where you went, what you did to pass the time. It made things easier. It reassured him. You were still being good, still keeping him in the loop, still showing him without even realizing it that you loved him. That you weren’t going anywhere.

And that was all he needed.

Because as long as you kept being this obedient, this trusting, you wouldn’t even notice the strings wrapped around you, pulling you exactly where he wanted.

But of course, no matter how much control he had, some things still slipped through the cracks.

He thought he had everything covered. That as long as you stayed close, as long as you kept looking at him the way you always did, nothing would change.

But even the most perfect plans had flaws.

It was a cold Thursday evening when Jungkook stepped out of the shower, steam curling around him as droplets clung to his skin. A towel hung low on his waist, and the heat from the water still lingered on his body, contrasting the chill in the air. He had just returned from a long business meeting. Another deal closed, another win under his belt. You were in the kitchen, insisting on making dinner, and he let you.

As he pulled on his nightwear in the walk-in closet, he instinctively reached for his phone. But his fingers met empty space. His usual spot? Empty. Bedside table? Nothing. Maybe he left it outside? That was unlikely. His phone was always with him.

The frustration simmered. His brows furrowed as he searched every possible surface in the bedroom. It wasn’t there. His chest tightened. And then—

A ringtone.

Not from inside the room. From outside.

His breath caught. His phone wasn’t on silent. You were hearing it.

A sharp pulse of panic shot through him as he shoved the bedroom door open. The sound grew louder, the vibrations almost rattling in his ears, until he saw you.

Standing at the dining table.

Staring at his phone.

A cold sensation crawled up his spine, harsher than the evening air. His fingers twitched. His heart pounded, slamming against his ribs, too fast, too loud.

Without thinking, he strode forward and snatched the phone off the table, immediately declining the call. His grip was tight, white-knuckled. He could feel your eyes on him, could see the way your expression shifted, shock, realization, suspicion.

Then, you moved.

You pulled your phone from your pocket, swiped through the screen, and then your jaw clenched.

Slowly, you looked at him.

Brows furrowed.

And then, without a word, you turned your phone around and showed him the screen.

“How come you can get calls when I can’t even reach you?” Your voice had that sharp edge, like you were daring him to slip up.

Jungkook’s grip on his phone tightened for a second. Just a second before he let out a slow breath. One you wouldn’t even notice.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, meeting your gaze without hesitation. “I’ve had signal since yesterday.”

Your brows furrowed. “What? That doesn’t make sense. I don’t have network service. No internet, either.” You scrolled through your phone, frustration seeping into your voice.

“Maybe it’s your phone. Not the network.”

“Huh? How does that even—”

“I don’t know, love. I’m not a technician.” His tone was casual, a little too nonchalant, as he turned to walk away.

But you weren’t letting it go.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice was sharper now, accusing. “You knew I’ve been complaining about this for days!”

Jungkook exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening, but his voice was still even. “I didn’t notice right away. And I’ve been out, haven’t I? Besides—” He scoffed. “Do you even see me using my phone when I’m home?”

Your frustration boiled over. “Ugh, this is so annoying! What the hell?” You jabbed at your phone aggressively, like pressing harder would somehow force it to work. When it didn’t, you let out a groan, tossing it onto the table with a thud before running a hand through your hair.

Jungkook clenched his teeth, trying to suppress the irritation crawling up his spine. “Y/N, can you calm down? It’s just a phone. We’ll fix it.”

“You don’t get it!” You snapped.

Your voice cracked slightly, your chest rising and falling with every frustrated breath. “That’s my only way to keep in touch with my friends and family while I’m stuck here! It’s the only thing I have to pass the time! I have nothing to do, Jungkook. It’s draining! I feel exhausted just… existing like this!”

His stomach twisted.

Not because of what you said, but because of the way you said it. This was the first time he’d seen you this raw since your last big fight. It was like catching a glimpse of something real. Something he wasn’t supposed to see.

And honestly? He didn’t know how to feel about it.

His fingers curled, nails pressing into his palms, but his face remained unreadable.

“Okay,” he finally muttered. “We’ll get your phone fixed.”

That was all he said before turning on his heel, walking away, leaving you standing there, stunned.

The moment Jungkook stepped into the bedroom, he lost it.

His phone hit the bed with a dull thud, but it wasn’t enough. His hands went straight to his hair, fingers tangling in frustration as he paced back and forth, his mind spiraling.

Anytime now, you could put the pieces together.

Anytime now, you could realize everything.

No. No. No. That cannot fucking happen.

His jaw clenched so tightly it ached, teeth grinding as he tried to force himself to think. He needed a solution. Fast. But every scenario felt like a loose thread, something that could unravel the carefully built illusion he had created around you.

His breath came out sharp and ragged, his chest rising and falling as panic crawled up his spine. His hands curled into fists, nails pressing into his palms.

Calm down. Think.

Would replacing your phone be enough? Could he make it seem like it was just a defective device all along? Should he play dumb, act as if he had no clue what was going on?

Fuck. Think!

He’d always been careful. Always one step ahead. So why was he unraveling now?

Why did this feel different?

He sucked in a slow, shaky breath, trying to steady himself. He was just being paranoid. That’s all this was. He had handled worse. He had controlled worse.

This was just another obstacle.

And like always, he’d find a way to make sure you stayed exactly where you belonged.

But he was wrong.

Because the moment he woke up, you weren’t beside him.

It felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped over him, freezing him in place. His body tensed, fingers gripping the sheets as he blinked, trying to process the empty space next to him.

No. No, no, no.

He had stayed up late, trying to think of a way to fix things. He didn’t even realize he had slept in. And now, you were gone.

His hands were already shaking as he pushed himself out of bed, his heart pounding.

“Y/N?”

The bathroom, empty. The closet, empty. The longer he searched, the faster his panic grew.

He stormed out of the bedroom, checking every corner of the apartment, but you were nowhere to be found. His breathing turned ragged, his vision tunneling. His fingers fumbled as he reached for his phone, opening the tracking app.

There you were. Not far.

A mall.

Fuck.

His jaw clenched so hard it ached. He already knew what you were doing.

His mind raced, self-loathing creeping in. How the fuck did I let this happen? He had been so careful. He had planned everything so perfectly. And yet, somehow, you slipped away.

His grip tightened around his phone as he immediately dialed a number. The person he hired to watch you.

“Find her,” Jungkook ordered, his voice dangerously low. “Now. And tell me exactly what she’s doing.”

Ending the call, he exhaled sharply and let his body drop onto the couch, his knee bouncing as he tried to steady himself.

Calm down.

He had dealt with things like this before. He knew exactly what to do. You were easy to convince, easy to pull back into his world. You always had been.

There was no reason to panic.

Because no matter what, he wouldn’t let this ruin everything.

He had come too far, done too much. What was the point of stopping now?

Minutes later, his phone buzzed. An update.

You had bought a new phone.

Of course, you did. He expected it. He had already planned his reaction, the perfect lie to feed you. He knew how to twist things, how to shape reality into something that made sense to you.

He was ready.

This was just another obstacle, a minor inconvenience. Soon, everything would be back to normal.

Or at least, that was the illusion he forced himself to believe.

Because the moment you walked through that door, his world shattered.

All the confidence, all the carefully built lies, gone.

The second you speak the truth, everything he worked for started to crumble.

You stood in front of him, unmoving, while he lounged back against the couch, arms crossed over his chest. The apartment felt colder than usual, the lack of sunlight casting a dull, gray shadow over everything, including you.

You looked drained.

Dressed in a white knitted sweater under a long black coat, paired with jeans, you slowly unwrapped the scarf from your neck, gripping it tightly in one hand while your other held a paper bag.

He already knew what was inside.

The new phone.

Your eyes locked onto his, unblinking, unwavering. There was an intensity in them that made something deep inside him churn, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he was the first to break the silence.

“Was it really that hard to wake me up and let me know you were going out?” His voice was laced with sarcasm, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You just couldn’t wait to get your phone fixed, huh? Had to rush out and buy a new one?”

He scoffed, shaking his head.

You didn’t answer.

You just stood there, staring at him with eyes filled with something far worse than anger. Disgust. Your jaw clenched so tightly he swore he could hear your teeth grinding, and then he saw it.

A tear.

His smirk twitched, faltering for just a second.

“What’s with the face, love?” he drawled, tilting his head. “I thought you fixed your little problem?”

His voice dripped with mockery, but something inside him twisted, because he could feel it.

Your tears fell silently at first, but then you inhaled sharply, steadying yourself before speaking.

“My phone was jammed,” you said, voice shaking. “Both my phone and the internet connection were jammed.”

Jungkook felt a flicker of something. Surprise, irritation, but he masked it, tilting his head as if your words were nonsense.

“How would your phone be jammed?” His tone was casual, almost amused, like he was humoring you.

You let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t know. Ask yourself.”

The sharpness in your voice sent a ripple of irritation through him.

“How the fuck is my phone jammed while yours isn’t?” You took a step closer, eyes burning with fury. “Does that make any sense to you? Both my laptop and my phone had no signal the entire fucking week, while you were just fine.”

His jaw tightened.

That bastard. The man he hired had left out important details. He hadn’t reported that you had your phone checked.

Fucking useless.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He scoffed, forcing his voice into something more natural. “I didn’t have service either. You know that. We were both—”

“No!”

The single word sliced through the room, loud and unwavering. It caught him off guard.

“I checked your phone this morning,” you continued, voice shaking with restrained rage. “I checked your laptop, too. And both of them had WiFi.”

His fingers twitched. His mind raced.

“Then that’s not my problem anymore—”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

Your voice dropped to a whisper, slow and deliberate.

Jungkook felt a chill run down his spine.

“Or…” You took another step forward, your eyes locking onto his like you were staring into something dark and rotten. “Is this just what you wanted me to believe?”

Jungkook didn’t say a word at first. He just watched you, his gaze unwavering, calculating.

He couldn’t afford to make a mistake now.

“I can’t believe you’re blaming me for this.” His voice was measured, carefully laced with disbelief, like he was hurt. “Why would I even do that?”

Then, quieter, like he was nursing a wound only he could feel. “Why do you always blame me when things go wrong for you? Even when it’s your own fault?”

You scoffed, tilting your chin up defiantly. “And how exactly is it my fault that my phone was jammed? That’s not something I could have done to myself, intentionally or unintentionally!”

“No, Y/N.” His voice hardened. “I’m not just talking about the jammer. I’m talking about everything, all the accusations, all the times you’ve turned on me, made me the villain in your little stories.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why are you even bringing all that up? We’re talking about the jammer—”

“Because that’s the problem!” His voice rose suddenly, sharp and unwavering. “You always blame me. The moment something inconvenient happens, it’s Jungkook’s fault. Like it’s second nature to you.”

He took a step forward, but you stood your ground. Your eyes locked onto his, unflinching, before you exhaled and turned to leave.

Panic flashed in his chest.

No.

In an instant, he was behind you, gripping your wrist, firm, but not enough to bruise. 

“Are you seriously walking away right now?” His voice was dangerously low, breath uneven. “We’re still talking.”

You yanked your hand free without hesitation. “There’s nothing left to say. This isn’t going anywhere.”

Jungkook clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.

His fingers twitched at his sides, the rage bubbling beneath his skin.

“What?” His voice was strained, barely holding back his temper. “You accuse me of this bullshit, throw it in my face, and then just walk away?”

You took another step toward the door of the bedroom, but this time, you hesitated. Then, slowly, you turned back to face him.

Your expression was unreadable. Empty.

“Yes,” you said, voice hollow. “Because you’ll never admit it. You’ll just twist everything, turn it all around, like you always do.”

Jungkook felt his stomach twist at the way you were looking at him. It was like you were seeing him now, really seeing him.

And then, without another word, you turned your back on him and walked away.

For the first time in a long time, Jungkook didn’t know what to do.

Jungkook felt like his mind was slipping. Too many thoughts, too many emotions crashing over him at once. He couldn’t process what just happened. He needed clarity, needed to understand you. Because suddenly, he couldn't read you anymore.

He hated that.

He stormed into the bedroom without hesitation.

“Why are you doing this to me, huh?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the tense air the moment he stepped inside. “Is this your way of getting back at me? Because I didn’t let you go home when that’s all you’ve been crying about for months? Is that it, Y/N?”

You turned to face him, brows furrowing. “What are you talking about? I never said that!”

“Oh, so you don’t say it, but you show it instead?” His heartbeat pounded against his ribs, his breathing growing heavier. “You think I like watching you change? Seeing you drift further away when all I wanted was for you to wait? You think I enjoy having you next to me when I can tell your mind is somewhere else? That you’re just enduring being with me?” The words poured out of him, unfiltered, his voice trembling with something raw.

“I’m not pulling any act, Jungkook. That’s all in your head.” Your tone was flat, detached.

That only set him off more.

“Oh, fuck it, Y/N! Just tell me the truth—”

“No, you tell me the truth!” You cut him off, voice ringing through the room. “Tell me why you jammed my phone! Tell me why you’re tracking me!”

Jungkook froze. His breath caught in his throat.

His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing, but he said nothing.

You took a step closer, pointing at him with a shaking finger. “You think I didn’t know? There’s a tracking chip inside my phone. And what? You’re going to sit there and twist it around again? Pretend it’s my fault that a tracker magically ended up in my phone? Just like how you jammed my signal?”

Your voice was sharp, relentless.

Jungkook didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

He just stood there, staring at you. Eyes dark, jaw clenched, mind racing.

Jungkook watched you with hollow eyes, his mind spiraling as your words cut through him like a blade.

Enough.

You’d had enough of him.

He should’ve seen this coming. The way you looked at him differently, the way you hesitated before answering, the way you started pulling away, piece by piece. But knowing didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“I ignored all the red flags,” you said, voice shaking, tears slipping down your cheeks, but you didn’t wipe them away. “I kept telling myself you were doing it because you loved me. I swallowed every truth right in front of me, thinking it was for my sake. But everyone was right.”

Your lips quivered as you exhaled shakily.

“You’ve been manipulating me. You’ve been making me blind to everything you’ve done.”

Jungkook’s fingers curled into his palms, his nails digging into his skin.

His jaw clenched. His breathing slowed.

“And you know what?” You let out a bitter laugh, eyes glassy. “You are right. This is my fault. Because I let you do it. I let all of this happen.” Your voice cracked, but you kept going, pushing the knife in deeper. “I loved you. I fell so fucking deep that I couldn’t even pull myself back up.”

That’s when he noticed—

You were packing.

You weren’t just throwing words at him, trying to wound him.

You were leaving.

You grabbed your phone, your wallet, a small pouch, only the essentials. Because you weren’t planning to come back.

The thought made his vision blur with rage.

Something inside him snapped.

His breathing turned eerily calm. The thick mask he had been wearing, the patient, loving, understanding Jungkook you thought you knew, shattered in an instant.

"You think you can just leave like that?"

His voice was soft, almost tender. But it sent ice down your spine.

You froze, fingers gripping your bag. When your gaze met his, your whole body tensed.

He took a slow step forward. Then another. But he stopped midway, slipping his hands into his pockets like he had all the time in the world.

"After everything I’ve done for us—" his lips curled into something twisted, "you think I’m going to let you walk away that easily?"

He let out a quiet chuckle. Low. Cold.

Your breath hitched.

And then he saw it—

The way your eyes darted to the door. The way you shifted ever so slightly, like you were ready to bolt.

He tilted his head, gaze darkening.

"Why are you stepping back?" His voice dropped even lower. "Are you scared?"

You didn’t answer.

His smirk widened, his steps slow and deliberate as he closed in on you.

He backed you into the wall, trapping you in place.

"Because you should be."

Jungkook's grip on reality was slipping, but he didn’t care.

He loved you.

Loved you so much that if keeping you meant becoming the villain in your story, then so be it. If he had to be the bad guy to make you stay, he’d do it without hesitation.

His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

“Is this what your friends planted in your head?” His voice was calm, too calm. Each word rolled off his tongue deliberately, like he was savoring them. “They’ll say anything, won’t they? Whisper the nastiest things to break us apart because they don’t understand. They don’t matter in this relationship.”

He took a slow step backward.

"That’s why I didn’t want you around them in the first place.” His tone was gentle, almost affectionate, but the weight of his words was suffocating. “The more time you spend with them, the more they poison your thoughts. Filling that pretty little head of yours with lies.”

Jungkook sighed, shaking his head like he was disappointed.

“But you just had to be stubborn. Kept pushing my buttons. And now look where we are.”

His gaze flickered down to your parted lips, to the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed hard. He move closer to you once again and leaned in just enough to catch the way your pupils dilated.

His smirk widened.

“So yes,” he whispered, voice dripping with satisfaction. “This is your fault.”

You flinched.

He saw the way your body trembled, the way your fingers curled into your palms like you were trying to steady yourself. But what made him really grin, what sent a shiver of satisfaction down his spine, was the quick, fleeting glance you threw at the door.

You were considering running.

How cute.

A quiet chuckle left his lips as he watched you inch back, your breathing shallow, your mind scrambling for an escape.

Too bad.

You weren’t going anywhere.

Jungkook tilted his head, watching you with something between amusement and disbelief.

“I can’t believe you’re still thinking of leaving when you have nowhere else to go.” His voice was light, almost teasing, as if the idea of you escaping was a joke.

Then, without warning, he ripped the phone from your hand and tossed it across the room. The sharp crack echoed as it shattered against the floor.

Your breath hitched. “Jungkook, please. You’re scaring me.”

But he wasn’t listening.

He grabbed your laptop from the coffee table, eyes dark with something unhinged, and in one swift motion, hurled it against the wall. The device split in two on impact.

You screamed.

Your breath hitched as you stared at the shattered remnants of your phone and laptop. The metallic clatter of destruction echoed in the room, but it was the eerie silence that followed that made your blood run cold. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The only sound was the erratic pounding of your heart.

Jungkook exhaled slowly, his eyes locked onto yours with a satisfaction that made your stomach twist. 

It was done.

There was no turning back now.

His fingers twitched at his sides before he took a step forward, closing the distance between you two. You flinched, instinctively stepping back until your legs hit the edge of the bed.

“You don’t need them anymore,” Jungkook murmured, voice dangerously soft. “I’m all you need.”

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “Y-you… you didn’t have to do that.”

He tilted his head, watching you, drinking in your helplessness like it was a drug. “I did,” he said simply as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Now, there’s nothing left to come between us.”

You wanted to scream, to fight, but the weight of his words pressed down on you like an immovable force. There was no way out. No reaching for help. He had stripped you of everything, piece by piece until all that remained was him.

Jungkook reached out, his fingers grazing your cheek, a mockery of affection in the way he cradled your face. “You’re mine,” he whispered, the words sinking deep into your skin, your bones. His grip tightened just enough to make your breath hitch. “Say it.”

You trembled, lips parting, but no words came. A flicker of something dark passed through his eyes before he crushed his mouth against yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was raw and possessive, his lips crashing against yours with bruising force. You struggled, hands pushing against his chest, but he was stronger.

“J-Jungkook, no—”

“You’re mine, Y/N.” His breath was hot against your lips, his grip unrelenting. “You’re fucking mine, and no one will ever have you but me.”

His mouth trailed down to your neck, teeth grazing over your skin before he sucked harshly, marking you like a brand.

You fought. You squirmed. But he didn’t care.

Because in that moment, the last of his carefully crafted mask shattered.

This was him. The real him.

And now, you finally saw it.

You had seen glimpses before, but you ignored them, forced yourself to believe they were nothing. That he was nothing more than a man who loved too much.

You were wrong.

You had unknowingly created a monster. A monster that could no longer be controlled.

And now, it was too late.

Because every path that once led to freedom was gone, every exit sealed shut.

And you were trapped.

Trapped in the darkness with him.

As he pulled away, he wiped a stray tear from your face, his smile almost gentle. “That’s my good girl.”

The finality in his voice made your stomach drop. There was no escaping him.

Not now. Not ever.

-end-

I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoy writing it! This was supposed to be a one-shot, but when I started writing, it turned into a two-shot lmao. And just when I was about to finish it, I thought about making it a three-shot, but then I realized it wasn't really necessary hahaha

If you have any comments or suggestions to help improve my writing, please don't hesitate to let me know. Thank you!

taglist: @llallaaa @strawberryberrygirl @taekritimin123 @minimoninini @lachimolalajeon @jincapableoflove @jenniebyrubies @sunshineishopejihyo @kooayu

[thetadispatcher]

The android nodded in agreement, at least there were humans that understood his methods and saw no problem with them. Even if Bishop was the first human he'd met that agreed with him, and his system had already calculated the likelihood of him meeting more to be slim, he could still appreciate that maybe one day he'd get to work with a human who wouldn't complain about his work ethics.

"If only I could get the humans, and androids, I work with to understand, although I see no possibility of that happening. Shame really, but such is life. Once you develop freewill, everything you do will be scrutinized differently, instead of them simply chalking it up to a machine being cold and unfeeling." Even if Gavin did occasionally question if the RK900 was truly deviant or just pretending. Something he'd never give the human a straight answer for, he felt it was a good chance for the detective to prove his skills, and just a good opportunity to mess with the man more.

John glanced at Bishop, raising his eyebrow slightly as he listened to the man talk about the fact there was a human version of him. "Hm... Well, even being human can't stop the military from getting their hands on me. Good to know, I had wondered that once." It had only been a brief thought, and not one he felt would ever be answered. But it seemed like anything was possible, so he'd have to take that into consideration when wondering things in the future.

"I can say Peter cares about me, although I sometimes suspect that's just due to me being the first deviant he actually got to experience. Another of Cyberlife's great plans, hide the units they lied about destroying with employees, and people they could trust to keep quiet about it. Catherine, his Cyberlife friend, made a pretty good argument for him being a good candidate for that activity. Didn't bother to warn him as they thought he already knew thanks to her, so he was a bit freaked out the day he came home from work and found me in his old apartment... I might've ruffed him up a bit more then necessary, but I wasn't prepared for him to start trying to fight me."

John couldn't blame Peter for reacting how he had to a stranger showing up in his home unannounced, and Peter didn't hold it against the android for defending himself against a clearly panicked human. But they did eventually get things worked out after he'd managed to restrain the young man, and prove to him he wasn't actually there to harm him.

"Oh, the talking corpse." Nines said calmly, ignoring Hugh giving him a shocked look at his choice of words. "I'm not shocked to hear he has a bond with another version of John, for having very different personalities they get along quite well. Although it seems things went down a more tragic path for them, if the smell of a roughly five month old corpse that been sitting on the ocean floor is any indicator." Hugh attempted to silence the RK900 by giving the unit a harsh shove to his shoulder and a very upset look.

Nines just gave him a bored look, as if he saw no problem with how blunt he was being about the odd man currently in the house. "I can provide further evidence, such as the black gel on his body. Any normal human would clean that from their skin, but he hasn't. So, that would lead one to believe it might be part of the reason why he's up and about." He glanced at John as the android wirelessly criticized him then shifted his focus to Bishop. "Am I correct?"

Kelvin didn't respond through the link as the damage he'd suffered made his attempts turn into a garbled mess of useless noise that overwhelmed whoever he was linked with, and he wasn't actually used to hearing the other speak through the link clearly since it was usually a dull buzz for him.

He perked up a bit upon being able to make out actual words through the low droning sound in his mind, to which he eagerly nodded as he understood what was being asked of him.

He allowed her access to his memories from the day he was damaged, the data was corrupted, but he felt there was enough still intact to be useful.

The memory file opened to the sound of a helicopter, briefly showing that to his left there was a vast ocean and his right there was another android in a similar outfit to his with an island visible out the window. The image of a human male on a laptop sat across from the other unit flashed before being distorted by the corruption, causing a lapse in time before the memories cleared.

Kelvin was back looking out the window at the water below before the window cracked, seconds later he was being tossed around the helicopter as it lost control. The helicopter came to a halt on the top of a cliff face, the landing jarring a door open causing the other android to fly from the aircraft and plummeting into the ocean below.

His system had been sending messages to Cyberlife and the company he was owned by, attempting to alert them of the situation, but his attempts were nothing but panicked jumbled words and code. Something that shouldn't have happened with a non-deviant android.

Kelvin was nearly flung out with the other unit, but had managed to grab hold of the seat. He struggled to pull himself up and back inside, the human reached to help him as he slipped, dangling from the very edge before he too fell into the water. The last sound he ever heard was the his own scream and the crashing of waves growing louder.

Kelvin's memory corrupted as he slammed into the water, shattering the inner mechanics of his ears, and severely damaging his brain as it was violently slammed against it's housing. Error messages flooded his HUD, obstructing his vision, somehow he managed to find his way out of the water as his system registered sand underneath him. The errors and agonizing pain overwhelmed his system, in response he desperately tried to send error reports as he didn't understand what was happening or the pain he was experiencing. Reports that were never received, continuously failing until the function shutdown entirely, leaving the android unable to contact anyone for help.

His memory continued after another time lapse, showing the human once again now looking the unit over, checking his visible damage and testing to make sure he was still functional enough to be useful.

The remaining intact sections of his memory were of the human giving him orders on a notepad that he happily completed without question. Kelvin seemed to believe the man was his friend as the human allowed him to stay inside the shelter he made, gave him tasks, and would scare off or attack the savage island natives Kelvin pointed out to him. The android took the actions as kindness, not that the man saw him as useful and therefoe had decided to keep him around.

Eventually the pair was rescued and returned to civilization, where the human seemed to have been given a choice regarding Kelvin as the company no longer wanted the android. The man glanced at the damaged unit and shook his head, Kelvin was then lead away by a pair of Cyberlife technicians, clearly not understanding what was happening. He kept looking back at the man, waiting for him to follow them. Moments before his system was deactivated did he understand what was going on, he glanced at the doors waiting for the man he'd believed was his friend to come save him before everything went black.

The next time he opened his eyes was to a very confused Peter staring down at him then looking at an equally perplexed Dan, his first thoughts were of him being hopeful that his human friend was coming to take him home. A hope the unit clearly still had, he seemed to believe the human was coming to get him, doing whatever tasks he could find well he waited for the man to arrive.

Sixty watched the two closely, tucking himself behind Strasky as he was still convinced the connection wouldn't end well.

"Oddly, he really doesn't yell, it's more of a calm type of rage. I think he just keeps his voice down 'cause of the more skittish units. He doesn't wanna start yellin' 'nd make 'em think he's gonna start beatin' on 'em, like their old owners did." He could understand why the human restrained himself from simply screaming, instead showing his anger in other ways as to not cause the traumatized units any unnecessary distress.

Ellis tucked the rag into the pocket of his Cyberlife issued coveralls, he had a feeling he'd be needing it again, so he felt it best to carry it on him so he wouldn't have to get up again.

"Yep, we get a warnin' if it's startin' to run low. Most units don't need to get it refilled that often, if ever. But ones like me, we're always gettin' somethin' in our eyes, so it's more of a monthly thing then a yearly. 'nd no, givin' us eye protection never seems to cross our owners minds." At least from the units he'd spoken with, it seemed the humans thought they didn't need to provide safety glasses to androids as their eyes were different from a humans.

"I always just thought it was my owner doin' all the brain dead crap, don't know if it makes me feel better learin' that isn't the case. Ugh, that man... He always felt the need to correct me on the stuff I was made to do, never made any sense to me, but I had to listen. I think he just liked feelin' superior to a machine, even if he was wrong 'nd the reason we were loosin' business... Which I, of course, was blamed for. I seemed to be his go-to when things when wrong, or when he decided to manifest issues." He rolled his eyes before he got back under the vehicle.

"Grade A idiot he was if ya ask me. I like it here a lot more, I can do things my way 'nd no one will try to tell me I'm wrong, or how somethin' I had nothin' to do with was my fault." He preferred his new life over his old one, and he had no desire to even see how his old owner was doing as he rather forget the man ever existed.

It was hard to say what the intention was there. Even Bishop's compliments sounded condescending.

"I can attest to the effectiveness of that method. There is no place for personal feelings while on duty."

Then one could be particularly wise and never stop working to avoid it completely. Bishop shuffled his cards as he waited on the androids. The question got no major reaction out of him other than the vague frown any attempt at asking him to disclose information got. He sat with his back straight, as expected from an agent of his caliber.

"Well, if you want to know about the human that looks like him," he pointed to John, "Claiming that I know him would be an overstatement. We met less than 48 hours ago. The brief conversations we had and all the flattering things I was told hardly make up for that. All I can tell you is that he was in the military and is of particular importance for Strasky."

And he was mostly neutral despite his interest in the skills of a fellow military men.

Willow showed a distinctively cautious approach as well as the link was established. While she had connected to unstable systems before, it was always best to feel around first, before risking to cause additional damage.

Though she was still confident she could handle this and even attempted talking back. "I would like to have a look at your memories. The others here believe it would help them understand you better if they knew how you were damaged. Additionally, I may be able to repair some of it as well."

Rook shrugged, "It isn't really what I'm aiming for with my streams, but I could steal some of those lines. It might throw them off enough to shut up whenever I stop playing to go back to Minecraft. I just can't be bothered and I don't want to scare my pets with random screams."

She made sure to keep her distance, knowing better than to get in the way while somebody was working.

"Yeah, I figured that was the case. Does that mean you've got to refill sometimes? Like wiper fluid or something like that."

[itheunknown]

odi et amo - (03) i, ghostly

negelected! meta! reader x platonic! batfam

masterlist / prev / next

(TW) : emotional neglect, self-destructive behaviour, self-harm, suicide, depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms, underage smoking, underage drinking, alcohol abuse, depression, bpd, depictions of mental illness, violence, trauma, ...

you can't tell what's louder, the thumping in your chest or the ringing in your ears.

your breath comes out shaky, the smoke curling out your nose and mouth, caressing your face.

it's hard to grasp reality. you don't know how you ended up here, nothing feels certain.

nothing feels real.

the sting on your now dried tear streaked cheek is the only feeling you feel, a reminder.

you never expected anything from that family, a family that isn't yours. but, perhaps, it was wishful thinking that if you made yourself forgettable enough, they would leave you alone. it didn't matter anymore, the fact that they were never there - you've done this before, you've been alone before. the heart could only grow brutal from feeding on fantasies.

and it's haunting.

did it hurt? fuck yes. but you're used to it.

you've been hurt your whole life.

you are nothing more than a body that hurts.

fantasies of loving arms, fantasies of warmth and peace.

fantasies of being seen. fantasies of being wanted.

you're staring down at the deep drop, somehow finding yourself back at the same abandoned building years ago. the sharp sting of the wind barely felt through the thick of the hoodie engulfing your form, the hood protecting your identity. the pack of the nearly empty cigarettes you had burned through along with your lighter layed scattered besides you, mixing with the discarded butts.

but you're never seen.

and you're never wanted.

expectations only lead to disappointment.

you didn't even flinch, no signs of making a move to acknowledge his presence, the burning cigarette still in hand as it nears your lips once more. a sigh and footsteps were heard before he was seated next to you, plucking the half-smoked cigarette out of your trembling hands and flicking it out the building.

"didn't take you for the rebellious type."

a sense of déjà vu, a voice, a similar scenario and the same setting - recognition washes over you - the voice of the vigilante that stopped you from jumping. and now, now you just can't seem to find the same sense of finality and courage to do it again.

"that's littering", you mutter, and he let out a surprised laugh despite your deadpan tone and the depressing atmosphere.

you're grateful that the hood makes you unidentifiable, thanks to the shadow it casts upon your face, further assisted by the blanket of the night: you don’t want to be seen right now, you just need to be heard.

he's thankful that, at the very least, you weren't making a move to jump off this time, the memory of it still unnerves him everytime he revisits it. although admittedly, smoking is just another way to achieve what you had come here to do before.

he looks at you, a moment of prolonged silence as his laughter dies out. you didn't even stir, defeated.

your voice was more mature, your stature taller but despite your unseen features, he can still sense how hollow you were - just like the first time he saw you.

despite everything, it was still you.

"… do you want to talk about it? ", he hesitates.

a beat passes. he desperately wants to help you, but also wishes not to overstep.

you asked your own question, one that had lingered at the back of your mind ever since that day:

"why did you stop me?"

he's surprised.

you're waiting.

your head tilted slightly, the moon light barely illuminated the edges of your face.

"because your life has value. i couldn't watch you, just, throw it away like it meant nothing.”

"it does mean nothing, i have nothing to live for", you reply, your tone grim and finalized.

his heart aches, the burden heavy in your voice - you sounded tired. broken.

his hand finds its way on your shoulder and pats awkwardly. "i'm sure that's not true. you may think that now, but you don't have to carry this weight alone."

"but i am alone."

“that’s not true, i’m sure there are people who care about you!”

he nudges your arm lightly, a light and reassuring smile on his face. you stare at him, at how the moon perfectly encapsulates his presence, at the tender warmth and genuine care radiating from him - the personification of life. the opposite of you, who's haunted by the idea of death.

you, who’d always remain in the shadows, remained in the desolated and dark corners of everyone’s mind, ignored, forgotten. dead to them.

“you don’t even know me,” you breathe out, “nobody knows me.”

the weight of your words weigh heavy on his soul. “that may be true, but that doesn’t mean i can’t care,” he offers. “you know, kid, you actually remind me of one of my siblings. around the same age, actually.”

your curiosity peaked as you silently urged for him to continue.

“but they came around eventually, i think. the hurt doesn’t go away, but you have to reach out for help.”

“…have you talked to your family about it?”

you scoff and stood up, making your way out of the building. he hurriedly follows you, frustration tainting his carefully crafted positivity. “you can’t just push people away like this. why won’t you let anyone in?”

you’re annoyed, it’s not like you did so deliberately, had anyone ever tried to get to know you? let alone care about you? you had abandoned that wishful thinking long ago, especially after today’s events.

“what’s the use,” you snarled. “nothing ever changes.”

“nothing can change if you don’t try!”

“sure, whatever.”

you paced hurriedly to where you left your bicycle, his presence hot on your trail.

“don’t dismiss me. your life matters, damn it.” he grabs your wrist.

you exhale sharply, yanking your arm out of his grasp. he falters back a bit, sensing that he crossed a line, trying to tone down how aggressive he was coming onto you.

“just- just remember that people care about you.”

“sure, like you do?”

“yes!”

you still for a bit, looking at him skeptically. you both awkwardly stood there, the situation almost comical in a sense, especially since his eyes can't remain trained on any visible feature of your face.

“hmm, thanks. i guess.” you trailed, hopping on your bicycle.

he watched you ride off into the night, unable to shake the feeling of helplessness. he wanted to help, but also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and scare you off. he stood there contemplating before he dashed off to continue the rest of his patrol.

“be safe, alright?” he watches you, unsure if he should follow you to assure your safety.

“i will.”

the distance between you both grows larger, moving in opposite directions, but your thoughts lingered on each other's words.

you retreat to the bathroom of the manor, the storm in your mind temporarily tamed. the cold water trickling down your arms, the soapy smell in the air to wash away the smoke clinging on your skin. the hoodie you wore hanging in the shower after you'd hand wash it, not wanting to expose yourself in case alfred gets a whiff of it.

despite continuing his patrol, he couldn't shake off the feeling of responsibility: for you - the mystery person tonight, and then, his mentioned sibling. he recalls how they were when they first entered the manor, and how they quietly adapted to the new lifestyle, growing up with the habit of concealing their emotions behind the facade of indifference, thinking that he didn’t notice. but he did, he was just never confronted with the drastic measure it would lead to if everyone in that manor just let that feeling of hopelessness fester within them. in a way, he's thankful to you: you gave him a wake-up call.

that sense of urgency nagging him to check on his family as he made a mental note to visit them after his patrol, your words lingering at the back of his head.

despite what had happened, you can't help but want his approval - the only person who actually gave you the time of day in this manor.

your expression focused, your eyebrows knitted, lips sucked in as you scrubbed your arms raw. you feel more grounded. your eyes dart to the reflection in the mirror, reminding yourself to keep it together.

keep it together.

keep it together.

keep it together.

subliminally. consciously. repeatedly

keep. it. together.

you release the death grip and push yourself off the sink, and sigh harshly.

keeping it together, you made way to the kitchen, planning to get some tea.

and then, you see him.

your breath lodged in your throat, you stand frozen watching him wait for rbe coffee while seemingly deep in thought, troubled. anxious.

richard grayson.

in the same vigilante suit, mask off.

you can't believe it. richard grayson, the oldest sibling, the vigilante, was the person who pulled you off the ledge, was the person who actually listened to you.

you can't describe this feeling in your chest, gripping your heart like a vice.

he was here all along.

you recall the mention of the sibling, was it you? did he actually… notice your struggles? maybe he had good intentions all along, trying not to overstep, hoping you'd come to him?

you don't know why you're trying to make excuses for him, but the mere fact that he saw you was enough.

you. hoodie off.

you finally let out a noise, snapping him out of his trance and his eyes snapped to you.

he looked a little caught off guard, surprised he didn't sense your presence.

“oh. hey.”

he rubs the back of his head. maybe he felt embarrassed that this was how you found out? but it's alright, because now he’ll finally notice you-

“i’m a little worried about him. i mean, since the cat's out of the bag, you should know he does a lot of work to contribute to us keeping the city safe - you wouldn't understand.”

“have you seen tim?”

“what?”

he sighs and grabs the finished coffee, settled on a tray with a dish holding an assortment of cookies.

he cuts himself off, deeming it not important enough to explain, and completely overlooks the horrified expression that now settles on your features.

dick had left the kitchen in search for tim, deciding to check out his room first. you absent-mindedly trailed behind him like a kicked dog, not saying a heap.

your vision starts to swim, your neck feels hot - unsure if it was embarrassment or rage.

embarrassed at the fact that you were deluded enough into thinking anyone in this house would ever give a shit about you, that anyone would care about what you're going through.

angry at the fact that you are never the person who gets asked for, never the sibling who's struggles are acknowledged.

you didn't register him knocking on tim's door.

you didn't register how dick affectionately asked a tired tim to spend some time together.

you didn't register them conversing while walking inside.

you didn't register tim giving you an odd look and closing the door to give them more privacy.

now, you sit in your room once more, alone, back against your bed, the torn shirt bundled in your hands. the grip on the fabric tightens, your knuckles whitens, and your shoulder starts shaking.

tears made its way down your face as you silently sobbed once more, occasionally chuckling at how pathetic your situation was.

you give up.

you can't keep it together anymore.

expectations only lead to disappointment.

so what if you had no family, no friends. your grades would never betray you, you'll continue your plan: study hard, get into a good university and then get the fuck away from here, from everyone.

despite your lethargy, you somehow made it through another school day. time started to bleed into each other, you resorted to going on auto-pilot.

so it didn't matter when onlookers would sneakily glance at you and the hand print on your cheek, resting under your red rimmed eyes and heavy eyebags that no one thought could get worse.

you had to keep moving. at the very least, you still had something that defined your worth - your intelligence.

no one will miss you.

no one would even notice.

they offer you a sympathetic smile, their face painted with worry. that alone almost sent you into another crying session. you find yourself in their embrace, soothing you while you try to hold it together, shielding you from the world.

“hey that's a bit much. what are we, chopped liver?”

the deafening ring of the bell signalling the end of school somehow fell deaf on your ears, but the sound of your friend somehow pierced through the barrier of your haze, jolting you back to reality. your eyes flickered to them, trying your hardest to offer a weak smile, but somehow failing.

yes, you're not entirely alone.

you still have your friends.

they would miss you.

they would notice.

so it didn't matter when the students gave you an odd look, putting some distance while you stood to the side engulfed in the arms of your friends. it didn't matter.

you had them.

you had someone.

you really needed the company, but despite being too ashamed to communicate it, they knew. so now, even if you arrived home later than usual, the sky turned dark and cold, you felt warm. that's the safety and comfort that no one else has been able to provide you, and you're so grateful that you at least had them - your precious friends, your reason to stay.

the path back to manor somehow the sky looked nicer, so did the grass, and the lush bushes of wildflowers - noticing the little things that you usually disregard, walking your bicycle while chatting away with your friends.

they never pried on why you were upset. they knew you, they knew. they knew because you knew. and that was enough, a wordless understanding, unconditional. they had insisted to keep you company, maybe spend some time together in your room.

so when you opened the door to the manor, still chattering and giggling with your friend, alfred had heard from the other room.

he felt somewhat relieved, the guilt over his actions had started to consume him, and so he had waited impatiently for your arrival that had been later than usual; but before he could fuss over you, the sound of your laughter had effectively calmed him down knowing you were safe and happy. he'd never heard you this happy before, and it hurts knowing that you had never been able to find joy while surrounded by the walls of this house.

he straightened his shirt, cleared his throat, and put on a kind smile while making his way out of the room to greet you in the doorway, your smile that could light up a stormy day, contrasting the gloomy room.

“oh, hey alfred! i know this wasn't informed but my friends were wondering if they could stay for dinner?” you turn to him, “we won't be much trouble, i promise!”

your friends shrunk back a bit, seemingly nervous of the tall and poised butler, feeling out of place.

you grabbed their hands and gave a reassuring squeeze, telling them it's alright.

you beam at him, waiting expectantly for alfred to welcome your friends.

while alfred could only stare in horror at the empty space next to you.

howdy skibbidis, i am not feeling very sigma :pained_heh:

lowk work has been ass and so has everything else but hey we move. i appreciate every single one of your comments and reblogs yall are so funny lol, but fr the support has been like saving my ass from burning out. grassy ass my skibbidi sigmas.

(TAGLIST) closed due to limit :sadge:

@confused-they @hoeinthehouse @strwberryglass @heartjwonie @glitchmshade @bat1212 @buddee @eyeless-kun @thereeallink @icantcryicantstopcrying @bunbunboysworld @gh0str00m @wizzerreblogs @lazy-kari202 @dotomuses @gwyneveire @gh6st24 @roseapov @kore-of-the-underworld @kingshitonly @plsfckmedxddy @unknownloner1345 @lilithquillete @v3vina @froggy-voidd @angrybuttooshorttofightyou @sami0169 @m3vlOvesu @pix-stuff @bunbunbread @agent-nobody-knows @cxcilla @horror-lover-69 @redkarmakai @mariadvorak @shirp-collector-of-fixations @batboygirlie @diejager @noclue-0 @sick2mystmch @novs9011 @kitkatkitmeow @crazycaoticsimp @majonla @hebaoffside @randomlyappearingartist @blueiones @shycreatorreview @simpingpandas @splaterparty0-0 @bk-4-trash-fire

[purplxbuttxrfly]

Isagi Yoichi: Idiot in Love♡

°•°•Synopsis. Isagi Yoichi is so in love with you

°•°•Note.This is my first story on this site and English is definitely not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes.

°•°•cw. established relationship

Isagi Yoichi is the epitome of what is called "A fool in love". You only have to observe the way he looks at you to be convinced. He practically has hearts in his eyes whenever it comes to you. This is even more obvious when he is on the field, his face is focused on the ball and his teammates and the opposing team, then his aggressive gaze falls on you. And as if you have cast a spell on him, his gaze instantly softens and the hearts return to his eyes.

Isagi LOVES your thighs. He likes to rest his head on them to take a nap while you read a book or watch television. Once, while he was lying down with his head on them while you were reading your novel of the week, he was watching you. He thought you were so beautiful with those reading glasses on the tip of your nose, your gaze focused on the book. He loved watching your reactions when you read certain passages. He stared at you for so long with those eternal hearts in his eyes, that you ended up noticing.

"You look at me like I'm the eighth wonder of the world"

you said jokingly. But only god knows how right you were at that moment. For Isagi, you are literally the only wonder of the world. Not to mention the fact that you are literally the goddess of his.

Know that each of his "I love you" and compliments he gives you are sincere, never ever did he think otherwise.

Also, since you've been in his life, there's one thing he's discovered about himself: he's a bit of a masochist. He even blames you for it

"Ah but it's your fault, you're the one who made me like this. I can't help it if you're too sexy when you're angry."

Oh, he tells you that often. He doesn't tell you but he loves it when you lecture him or make him angry. Once he didn't do the dishes even though you kindly asked him to. He preferred to sit in front of the television to watch a match. So you got angry with him and after 10 minutes of lecturing, he said

"Do you know that you're terribly and divinely beautiful when you're angry?" With a smile plastered on your lips.

You rolled your eyes before heading to the kitchen to do the task he hadn't done.

"Wait, but you're leaving like that? Without giving me a little blow to the back of the head or anything else?!"

He let slip this sentence, implying that he had done it on purpose to make you angry.

You made him seem extraordinarily naive. He drinks all your words like water, whether they are true or false.

"Yoichi, did you know that it is impossible to touch your elbow with your tongue?"

You told him once.

"Oh really? If you say so, it must surely be true."

That's all!!!?? He didn't even try like 99% of people to check. The fact that he didn't ask any questions alarmed you.... and if you...

"Oh my god!!! Yoichi!!!"

"What the hell!?"

He watched you panic.

"We saw a unicorn walking around attacking people in Shibuya!!"

No, that's too big of a lie, he'll never believe that...

"SERIOUSLY!!!!??? WHAT ARE THEY WAITING FOR TO CATCH HIM?!"

At that moment, you were convinced that he was making fun of you, but his gaze was exactly the same as the one he had when you got sick. His gaze showed worry. No, it's not possible that he believed your lie. This idiot is not that naive.

"Yoichi...you know that's not true, right?"

"Huh?! Uh, I mean, of course I knew it...a unicorn, honestly. Do you take me for a 5-year-old girl??"

He says that but his trembling voice and the drops of sweat on his face lead you to have doubts about his honesty on this one.

Like any human being, Isagi can be in a bad mood, frustrated or angry. But you have found a solution to this problem. Feeling your soft lips on his calms him down and instantly puts him in a good mood. He melts with happiness, sweetness, love and satisfaction every time you kiss him.

You transform him so much by your simple presence that his teammates call you "The magician."

Isagi Yoichi tells you "I love you" Countless times a day.

You are someone warm, caring and smiling. You like to help people, but you don't always dare, because you are someone shy. And it is your smile that Isagi fell in love with first. But sometimes, even you who are so perfect in his eyes, you become a bitch. Despite the fact that he is very much in love with your kindness and caring, when he discovers this side of you, he can only love you even more .

Isagi Yoichi literally loves everything about you.♡♡

do not copy. do not translate.

[whosashan]

Console me

Part 2 of Sylus and Rafayel's section in "Who do you love?"

A/N: You asked, and here it is! Hope you enjoy! 💕

Rafayel

You didn’t know how much time had passed since you last spoke to Rafayel.

But the feeling of betrayal hadn’t faded. Not even a little.

It wasn’t that he didn’t try.

Your phone had been flooded with calls, texts, voice messages—some pleading, some poetic, others just plain ridiculous. Then came the flowers, bouquets upon bouquets piling up at your doorstep until your apartment smelled like an entire garden.

And then, of course, the billboard.

"Talk to me, cutie. I'm so sorry :("

It sat right outside your building, massive and utterly impossible to ignore.

You weren’t sure if you were amused or infuriated.

And yet, through all of that, he hadn’t shown up at your door. Not once. Rafayel, for all his dramatics, knew you. Knew that no amount of begging or extravagant gestures would work if you weren’t ready.

But he was waiting.

And maybe, deep down, you had been waiting too.

Then came the call from Thomas.

At first, you assumed Rafayel had bribed him into getting you to talk. Wouldn’t have been the first time. But there was something in Thomas’s voice—something that unsettled you.

"I don’t want to get involved in whatever mess this is, but I’m afraid it’s starting to affect my job."

That caught your attention.

"How?"

There was a pause. Then, a sigh.

"Just come here and see for yourself."

And then the call ended.

You scoffed. Classic.

And yet, despite your irritation, concern gnawed at you. Because no matter what had happened—no matter how much Rafayel had hurt you—you loved him. That much, at least, was certain.

Even if sometimes, you weren’t sure if his heart was truly yours.

—

The moment you stepped into the studio, you were hit with one immediate thought.

What the actual hell?

The place looked like it had been ransacked.

Not the usual artistic chaos Rafayel thrived in—no, this was different.

There was sand. Everywhere.

The paint on the walls had cracked, the curtains were ripped, and for some ungodly reason, seashells were scattered across the floor.

You weren’t even near a beach.

Your eyes finally landed on him.

Rafayel was seated in front of a massive, untouched canvas. His usual effortless grace was gone—his shoulders hunched slightly, his hands limp against his lap. The ever-present glint of mischief in his blue-pink eyes had dulled.

And yet, when you spoke, his name slipping past your lips softer than you intended—

"Rafayel."

—he didn’t look at you right away.

You weren’t sure if he was ignoring you or just too lost in his own world to register your presence.

So, you moved closer, crouching beside him.

Finally, his gaze shifted to yours.

It was subtle, but you saw it—the flicker of relief. The weight of exhaustion. The quiet kind of hurt that he rarely let anyone see.

But he stayed silent.

You sighed, reaching for his hand, fingers brushing against his knuckles.

"You're a big, big dummy, fishie."

His lips quirked—not quite a smirk, not quite a smile.

"Are you here to scold me, or finally confess that you can’t live without me?" His voice was light, teasing, but you heard the tension beneath it. The attempt to mask his uncertainty.

"How about we go to the beach?"

That made him pause.

His brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering across his face—until realization hit.

The beach. Your place. Where everything had begun. Where words always came easier, where wounds found ways to heal.

For a moment, he just stared at you. Like he couldn’t quite believe you were offering him this. Like he knew he didn’t deserve it.

And yet, he still took your hand.

Slowly, deliberately, his fingers laced through yours before he pulled you forward—abruptly, effortlessly, entirely into his embrace.

His arms tightened around you, his grip firm, possessive, as though making sure you were real. That you were here.

Then, lips brushing against your temple, voice barely above a whisper—

"Don’t leave me alone again… please."

You inhaled sharply.

Rafayel was a lot of things—dramatic, infuriating.

But right now, he wasn’t playing.

You hesitated for only a second before resting your forehead against his shoulder.

"Don’t give me a reason to."

Sylus

It had been a week—a full week without contacting your lover.

Guilt gnawed at you, weaving itself between regret and hurt, settling heavy in your chest.

This was the longest you had ever been apart since the beginning of your relationship. It felt unnatural, wrong. Life without him was something you didn’t want to adjust to.

And yet, your pride held you back.

You paced your room, phone clutched in your hand, staring at the messages you had typed out but never sent.

"I miss you." "Can we talk?" "Why did you have to hurt me this badly?" "Are you still waiting for me?"

You sighed, rubbing your temples.

Sylus had reached out, but only in the quiet, thoughtful way that was so distinctly him.

A small, carefully folded letter, delivered by Mephisto.

"Whatever you decide to do, I'll always be here for you. My heart is yours, darling. —Sylus"

Your grip on the letter tightened. It made your heart ache, made doubt creep in.

Had you overreacted?

Before you could dwell on it further, a sudden knock on the door shattered your thoughts.

You hesitated before moving toward it, unsure what you were hoping for.

And then, you opened it.

There he was—your lover, standing before you, looking slightly disheveled, not quite himself. In his hands, a bouquet of your favorite flowers, petals trembling slightly from his grip.

His confidence, usually unwavering, was laced with hesitation.

"I know I said I’d wait for you," he murmured, voice softer than usual. "I just... missed you. I needed to see you."

Your heart pounded.

For a moment, you only stared at him, absorbing the sight of the man you had longed for. And then—

You launched yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist.

He let out a startled breath, arms instinctively locking around you, steadying you against him.

Then, you grinned against his skin, voice muffled but certain.

"Let’s never fight again, okay?"

[niningtori]

clementine | preview

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after your explosive breakup and wordless, thorough disappearance from beomgyu's life, he's surprised to see that you've moved back to his town. when he happens to meet you again, beomgyu wants to apologize, maybe make amends for his unforgivable behavior, but he's devastated to find out that you've erased every memory of him. you don't want to remember him—or the love you once held onto so desperately—anymore. he knows that to be the case, so why is it so hard for him to feel the same way?

genre: angst, romance, potentially second chance, asshole!beomgyu to groveling! beomgyu (who saw this one coming...), inspired by eternal sunshine of the spotless mind tho i've never seen it and only know major plot points through cultural osmosis

warnings: angst, previous toxic relationship

word count: tbd

release date: really far in the future probably

notes: i received a request for this a while ago and i said i'd think about it then received an ask a couple of weeks ago saying another author was working on something based on the same movie. again, i've never seen the movie and i haven't read the author's work (or any new fanfiction rlly in the past few months cuz i haven't been in the headspace to enjoy it) so i will be making it up based off of the general concept of having memories of an ex erased. i said i'd wait to post it and i have every intention of doing so but i wrote this in a moment of inspiration and i've been posting previews so i thought i'd post this just as a teaser! it won't be out for a long time cuz i have so many wips and i don't want to be inconsiderate or invite weird, unsolicited comparisons. i just want to post previews bc i'm excited to get back into consistently writing after almost quitting 🥹

-

it’s jarring, to say the least, to see an estranged ex you used to love more than anything else in any unexpected context; but it's especially jarring for beomgyu as he watches you chatter away on your phone in the middle of the cafe he finds himself in. he catches your eye for just a second before you look away, and it's like he can't breathe. after your phone call, you smile as you type away on your screen. beomgyu gulps, because he knows that since you two made eye contact, it would be weird to just leave and pretend he didn't see you, though that's exactly what he wants to do. besides, no matter how much of a coward he is, he can't keep living with his unspoken feelings when he finally has the opportunity to express them, no matter how resolutely you might reject them. he hesitantly rises from his seat and walks over to you with unsure steps.

“hey,” he says unsteadily. you look up from your screen and give a forced smile, a far cry from the easy affection you used to give him. only him.

“uh, hey?” you reply. beomgyu worries he did the wrong thing by approaching you, especially because you seem confused that he said anything at all. you probably expected him to exit the cafe without a word, and the thought that you thought that he, who was once completely and utterly in love with you, would brush you off so easily brings a sharp pang to his chest.

“i… i know it’s been a while, but i… i want to, um, apologize for… everything.” he wants to lay down and die at his awkwardness, but he's wanted to say these words for so long, and no matter how much he’s compelled to swallow them down and safely tuck them away in the home they've carved out for themselves in his stomach, he knows this is the right thing to do. especially since you blocked him on everything before changing your number. especially since you moved away without a word after your disastrous breakup. especially since he hasn't seen you in so long, and he doesn't know if he'll ever see you again after this. your eyebrows furrow, and he braces himself for impact. but no amount of contrived mental fortitude could ever prepare him for your next words.

“... do i know you from somewhere?”

notes pt. 2: might delete this preview so be prepared for that possibility 🫰 peace and blessings :,) but please don't be mean or weird like actually

[tusk-rumours]

surprise, baby ☄︎*.⋆ — sam winchester x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

summary: sams girl surprises him with something pretty, and sam can hardly take it.

warnings: nsfw, 18+!! fingering, p in v, swearing, shifts in dom/sub, incredibly horny writing

a/n: SURPRISE!!!! you thought this was over? lmao okay but seriously things happened and my need for sam got so bad that it healed my writing slump to the point that i picked up again so here's this!! it is taking a hell of a lot of bravery to post this so i’ll try my best not to delete it lmao, but man i want sam so bad i'm so hor— okay that's enough.

also i listened to the morning by the weeknd on repeat writing this, if that gives any indication as to where my mind was lmao. and this gif????? came.

Sam was honestly struggling to keep up with her. He loved it, god he loved it, but fuck it was a lot to handle. Couldn't she see what she was doing to him? She could. And that there was the problem. She relished in how he'd freeze when he saw her, how he'd fumble all over his words and stumble over his long legs when she beckoned him closer.

She'd been surprising Sam with lingerie constantly recently. Whether it was new sets she bought as a surprise, old sets, or even sets he bought her himself, Sam felt like he saw her in them more than actual clothes. There was nothing Sam could think of that would've given her this idea, nothing he said, nothing she said. But something had stirred in her cheeky brain a couple of weeks ago. Sam didn't know what the hell he did to deserve this kind of heaven, but he definitely wasn't complaining.

It started when she'd padded into the library in her fluffy dressing gown while he was researching. She'd stepped between his legs, pulling down the fluffy fabric at her chest and teasing a peek of the lace underneath. She let him unravel the knot like some sort of present, and soon enough he had the books on the floor, and her body laid out on the table with the fluffy fabric cushiony beneath her. He didn't know what the surprise was for, but he didn't question it, just relished in the treat he was getting.

Then it was the photos she sent while he was out investigating. In the bed they share, the camera angled down her lace-clad body. He almost choked on his drink when he saw that, quickly shielding the screen from Dean, before excusing himself. He stood in that bathroom stall for close to fifteen minutes, trying so goddamn hard not to pump himself right there with the picture of her on the screen in his hand.

Then it was the set she had on when he came back in the bedroom after some late-night research, perched on the bed. Then the path of her clothes from the library to their room, ending with her lacy panties by the door, which he opened to find her on the bed wearing nothing at all.

And then the several other times too.

She was being a tease. And he knew full well she was having more than just fun with this.

He should've expected it this time. Really, he should've. She'd been at the bunker researching all day while Sam and Dean were out playing FBI. Sam was already gonna drag her into bed that morning when she stood in front of him, doing up his tie and tightening it around his neck. She almost drooled when she saw him standing there, visions of that tie around her wrists, or even around his. Visions of those steam-ironed clothes crumpled on the floor, his bare hips snapping against hers. But not yet. That was for later.

By the end of a day of interviewing witnesses, assessing crime scenes and mulling it over in a diner, Dean decided to rest it over by spending the night at a bar. As for Cas, he very rarely dropped in without Dean there ever since he caught them both on the library table. She couldn't stop laughing, finding it even funnier whenever she looked up and saw Sam's red, mortified face. Cas had just stood there, before asking if they both wanted to be alone, which sent her into another fit, listening to Sam's exasperated 'yes!'. Once he left, they couldn't even pick up where they left off, Sam too horrified and she too hysterical.

So Sam had called her, telling her he'd be the only one home tonight, the ideas she'd get from that somehow slipping his mind.

So, yeah, he should've expected it when he shut the door of the bunker, heading down the stairs casually and into the library, before lifting his head up and stopping dead in his tracks. He stood frozen, his mouth open dumbly, his eyes just short of popping out of his damn head.

"...holy shit." He slipped out beneath his breath.

She giggled from where she lay on the couch. Stretched out on her back, her arms lazily on the pillows above her head. Her body in a pretty two-piece lace set that was completely sheer save for some embellishments here and there, with matching sheer thigh highs clad her legs up to her thighs, adorned with lace on the top.

He was gone.

His bag slipped off his shoulder to the floor with a thud, his mind lost in the way her legs shift, the way the mesh and lace cover her skin so perfectly. She just looked so sexy, it knocked the air straight out of his lungs.

He shut his eyes for a moment, huffing out a breath, steeling himself. Without a word, he's shrugging off his blazer. She bites her lip as she watches him, her fingers lightly feeling through her hair. The blazer falls to the floor, and those pretty fingers move to his tie, fumbling with the knot as he loosens it up, and god the way his veins flex with each little movement—.

She grins, watching him strip down in front of her. She didn't even have to say a word, or move, and she's already got him with his fingers fumbling with the buttons of his pristine white shirt. She throws her head back with a huffy laugh.

"God, you're so fucking sexy, Sammy," She shakes her head, her gaze turning to him. His cheeks pinken, abashed at the way she compliments him.

Beneath her amused gaze, there's a fiery hunger, and it makes Sam completely weak as his hands move to the hem of his undershirt, pulling it up and off his head in an instant, his muscles flexing. Then that adds to the growing pile too, and he's before her bare from the waist up, and the things she wants to do to him when she sees him like this.

One of her arms lazily extends out towards him, beckoning him closer. Once he's close enough, her fingers grasp at his belt, making him gasp, his skin shuddering where her fingers brush. Her fingers work at the buckle, undoing it swiftly, her lip between her teeth in anticipation. Then she pulls at the belt, glancing up at him cheekily as she drags it through the loops until it dangles from her hand.

His breath catches in a startled whimper when the belt clanks to the floor and her fingers dip beneath the waistband of his jeans, tugging him even closer. She rolls onto her side slowly, resting her head on her hand, looking up at him through her lashes, his clothed dick so close to her mouth now.

"...You sure the couch is gonna— h—have enough room?" Jesus, how does she reduce him to such a stuttering mess like this so easily?

She just laughs, her thumb rubbing the skin by his happy trail.

"You have a better place you wanna take me, baby?"

Oh, god.

Even though the bed, or even the table, or the goddamn floor might be more practical, he doesn't care. He can't spare another second. He's crowding her space, mounting the couch and settling down on top of her, his hand grabbing her head and guiding her into a consuming, passionate kiss. His tongue wastes no time invading her mouth, and fuck she tastes so sweet. The upturn of her lips and the moan she lets out into his mouth only makes his cock throb harder within his jeans. Their bodies shift and writhe against each other desperately, both of them so ridiculously turned on.

That sneaky hand of hers is moving between them, finding the button of his jeans and popping it free, her fingers brushing against his sensitivity as she drags down the zip.

"Shit," He hisses, his nose scrunching in that perfect way.

His hand finds hers and pulls it away, pinning it back against the cushion. He wants to worship her. How can he not when she looks this goddamn good? And for him?

He drags his lips away from hers, taking her in again.

"God, baby, you're stunning. So fucking sexy. When'd you get this one?" He's panting, his breath chasing his words.

"Today," She muses, rubbing her fabric-covered calf against his leg. "Hoped it'd get this reaction."

"As if I would react any less, seeing you in this," His eyes are full of wonder, like he can't quite believe this perfect body and beauty that is his girl is beneath him. He can't stand his mouth not being on her for one more second.

He dives into her neck, relishing in the way she moans, her head turning to expose her neck. He sucks and nips, wanting to leave hickeys against the faded ones. His lips, tongue and teeth work feverishly down her neck to her collarbone, teeth dragging against the chain of her necklace, down to her breasts, covered by the black mesh fabric of her sheer bra, which does nothing to conceal her hardened nipples. God, that sight was just so fucking sexy to him.

She throws her head back in a moan when he starts licking one of her nipples through the mesh and lace in long, firm licks before he's sucking with his lips. His big hand squeezes the other, feeling and rubbing the thin fabric. Then he swaps over, and she's writhing, her fingers threading into his hair. The warmth of his tongue against the mesh is just too good of a sensation.

"Sam, fuck," She breathes, needing more. Needs those jeans of his off. So she takes.

He pulls his mouth away when he feels her trying to tug at his jeans, helping her get them off quickly. It relieves some of the pressure, but there was still so much restriction. He wouldn't be satisfied until he was buried deep inside her.

It's frantic, the way they touch each other, fingers fumbling with clothes.

"Shit, I don't even wanna take this off you baby, its too pretty," Sam mutters out, his actions contradicting his words as he fumbles with the clasp of her bra, throwing it somewhere in the direction of the floor.

She bites her lip. She loves being exposed to him. In a space where she feels equal amounts safe and sexy. Her palms flatten and run along the large expanse of his back, shimmying her hips to help him pull down her lacy panties. He doesn't bother with her thigh highs, whenever she wears something like that, he always prefers it staying on.

"Please, oh—" She moans into his ear, hips writhing against his with need.

"Baby, I gotta — fuck — gotta prep you first," He chokes out. He wants nothing more than to be inside her, but he needs to get her ready first. And feeling her slick on his fingers and the warmth of her pussy is an opportunity he never passes.

And so his hand runs down her body, squeezing her breast along the way, feeling her stomach shudder underneath his fingertips, teasing above the area between her legs. Then the pads of his fingers slide down firmly, and her moan is all kinds of sweet and dirty at the same time. He gathers her slick, and she's so goddamn wet, spreading it along her folds, settling on her clit and rubbing tight circles.

She bites her lip, her eyes shut and hips rolling into his hand, completely lost in the pleasure, and the sight of her like this is so fucking sexy, he's blabbering and cursing under his breath.

"Shit, you— you look too damn good, y— so hot, I can't—" It's all so overwhelming, but he needs more, so his fingers move to her entrance, slipping inside, stretching her gently. Her mewls are like a symphony to his ears, so sweet and perfect he'll be thinking about them for weeks.

"That good, baby?" He smiles, his lips brushing against her temple, feeling the sheen of sweat forming at her hairline.

"Uh huh, uh hu— oh," She can't even form words, her walls squeezing as her orgasm catches up to her fast. He feels it, moaning at the way she clenches and flutters. He knows the exact moment she comes, from her sounds, to the way her body tenses, and the way her legs jerk.

He watches her with awe, the sight of her blissed out face otherworldly to him. Usually he'd give her a few minutes to come down, but he's thrown off guard when her fingers fumble with his boxers, tugging and pulling.

"These, off," She demands, and god, who is he to refuse her?

So they join the pile on the floor. Her tiny black lingerie against his FBI suit.

She bites her lip, her gaze moving back to him. He's so hard, and perfect, and she's been fantasising about this sight all day.

Her gaze drags back up to his, heavy-lidded and sultry, and Sam needs to see the way her expression changes when he pushes into her.

"Sam, fuck me now." Her voice lowers, serious and commanding, and Sam would do the most embarrassing things imaginable if she asked him like that.

"Baby, I don't— don't have a condom on me," He whispers back. Always a man of safety.

"God, Sam, does that matter? We don't need one, it's fine," She reassures him, her hand in his hair.

She's right. It definitely wouldn't be the first time they've done it raw, and Sam'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little obsessed with taking her that way. They know what they're doing. It's fine.

Without a word he lines himself up, pushing into her, watching the way she smirks, her eyelids fluttering.

"That's it, honey," She breathes, a soft moan accompanying her words.

He's close to bottoming out when her mesh-clad legs wrap around his waist tightly, pulling him into her. He hisses, his grip on her hip tightening.

"F—fuck, you're insatiable,"

She just smirks, breathing hard as her limbs curl around him tight. She makes sure she's got his eyes on hers when she reinstates his point, arching her back and rolling her hips into his.

The broken, loud moan he lets out into her ear has her grin widening.

She continues her ministrations, forcing his eyes not to shut and to meet hers, no matter how much he wants to bury his face into her neck. Soon enough he's rolling his hips into hers, meeting her movements, the sensations only heightened by the intimacy of their connection.

Her expression is hungry, powerful, taking what she needs, and Sam is fucking mesmerised by the way her body moves so smoothly and sensually beneath him.

"God, baby, I—" He groans, feeling her squeeze so deliciously around him. "What're you doing to me?" He chokes out, then his forehead drops against hers, his hips picking up the pace, thrusting deeper.

The pretty moan she lets out turns into the sexiest giggle he's ever heard, and jesus, how is being so deep inside of her almost not enough?

"Oh, fuck—" He hisses. He's so goddamn close. He can feel her squeezing him harder, like a fucking vice, and he'd stay with her like that always if he could.

"Come for me, baby,"

That bed voice she uses is going to ruin him. It's impossible to hold back when she gives him permission like that, and it's all so overwhelming when he fills her up, warming her walls.

The sensation of him coming inside her so deep is just so good, and her second orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, moaning so sweetly, the pleasure all-consuming.

Their chests heave, their minds still so hazy with pleasure. However, Sam has enough consciousness to guide his lips to hers, moaning against her lips, the feel of them feather-soft, the taste of them so sweet. His tongue slides against hers, kissing her like he needs to feel every inch of her mouth to breathe.

"I should've known," He shakes his head affectionately, his tongue slipping into her mouth again.

Her lips upturn against his, and he won't even try to ask why she's doing this this time around, because he'll get the same answer as every other time: 'you complaining?'. So cryptic his girl was. But god if her playfulness didn't drive him wild.

Their mouths disconnect, and her tongue flicks out again to clear up a bit of saliva on his bottom lip. This girl.

"So, this really that fun for you, sweetheart?" He asks instead.

"Uh-huh," She muses cheekily. Of course she's not gonna elaborate. His baby could tell him to step off a cliff with no other instruction and he might just do it. He'd run around in circles just to be near her.

His fingers fix her hair up a little, his body making no move for round two.

"Don't tell me you're done with me already," She giggles. "We've got a whole bunker to ourselves, many unchristened places, and I've got plenty of stamina left in me, baby. So, can you keep up with me?"

...Fuck.

taglist <3 : @lanadelreyscokewhor3 @mxilkyways @saltcxrcle

[nicole-lynne]

I Won't Say I'm in Love

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Era: Prison Era Details: Inspired by I Won't Say I'm In Love from Hercules soundtrack (This is my first Daryl fic so be gentle sweet reader haha)

You stared at the small cloth bag filled with strawberries that had appeared on the tiny stand you used as a shelf in your cell. It hadn’t been there this morning when you left to help Carl in the garden, but there it sat - a pile of juicy, red strawberries that made your mouth water in anticipation. And you had no doubt of where they had come from. The modest archer that had become a solid fixture in your life in the last year. 

Slowly, you moved across the small space and reached out, your fingers gently tracing over the berries. It had been longer than you could remember since you’d had them. You’d mentioned to  Daryl how much you used to love them the last time you’d been on watch with him, when he’d let you yap as long as you wanted and he hadn’t acted annoyed once. You’d spent so many watch shifts with him, yet it still amazed you every time he proved that he’d been listening to you - regardless of his quiet nature. Those watch shifts had turned into shared meals, supply runs, and subconsciously looking for him any time you entered a room. Heat rose to your cheeks at the thought that he’d gone out of his way to do this sweet gesture for you. 

Before you could stop it, a dazed smile started to grow on your face, the image of Daryl’s hesitant smile and curious eyes clouding your mind. Something that you loathe to admit was happening more and more often. 

Carol’s head peeked around the edge of your cell, a knowing smile playing at the edges of her mouth. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

You startled at her voice and whipped your head around to the woman, your thoughts jumbled at the intrusion. “H-huh?” You stammered dumbly. 

“I said, penny for your thoughts? Although, I’m pretty sure I don’t need to spend the money.” She smirked, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. 

Rolling your eyes, you turned back around to sit on your bunk, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You sure you’re not dehydrated from being out in the sun too long?” 

“Oh, I’m not dehydrated. But I do know a lovestruck look when I see one.” 

Heat rose to your cheeks but you lifted your chin defiantly. “I am not lovestruck. I’m not the kind of girl to get lovestruck. There’s nothing special about him picking me up something on the run.” 

A sly grin spread across her face, “I never said who I was talking about. Do you happen to have a certain man in mind? Possibly one who drives a motorcycle and carries a crossbow? The one I saw sneaking out of here a few minutes ago?” 

Pursing your lips slightly, you wanted to growl in frustration. You hadn’t meant to slip up like that. You hadn’t meant to even have a clue who she was talking about. You weren’t looking for love in this apocalyptic crapstorm of a world. You hadn’t even been looking for love before the demise of normalcy. Been there, done that, have the scars to remember and the memories to be haunted by. 

“Honey, it’s alright to admit that you’ve started to care about someone. Daryl is a good man and you deserve some good in your life.” Carol sat next to you and grabbed your hand, holding tight when you tried to pull away. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other when you think the other isn’t looking.”

“And how do we look at each other?” You asked through gritted teeth.

“You look at him like he’s the earth and heaven. Like he hung the moon for you.” 

You scoffed and looked away. “That’s not even remotely true.” 

“It is true. And I’ve seen how much you’ve changed Daryl too. He is more open to you, he trusts you. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him smile as much as he does when you walk in a room.” Her voice was soft but it felt like it echoed in the cell. Suddenly you were all too aware of the busy prison around you and that anyone could overhear this discussion. Beth and Maggie had commented on conversations you’d thought were private one too many times in the past. 

With a jolt, you stood abruptly and looked down at her, hardening your glare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn’t some teenage girl romance movie where everyone falls in love and has some cliche happy ending. This is the real world where the people we know can die any day. No one, no man, is worth that aggravation.” 

Carol stood up, an annoyingly understanding look on her face, and wrapped you into a hug. You let yourself melt for a moment into her motherly touch. You weren’t blind to how hard it was for her to let anyone in, the same as you, and you weren’t going to just forget that. 

She patted your back once and broke away. “Well, I’ll let you rest before dinner,” she hesitated then said, “the last thing I’ll say is, don’t let yourself deny happiness just because of the past. You’re right that we only get so much time in this world, but it’s better to spend that time happy than miserable.” 

Before you could utter another word, she disappeared past the flower sheet you had hung for the illusion of privacy. The one that Daryl had brought back for you a couple months ago after you’d told him you loved wildflowers. 

~~~~

You watched the sun dip below the treeline, letting the soft breeze kiss your skin as you enjoyed the last few remnants of summer. The muted growl of the walkers in the distance mixed with the clucks of the chickens and the grunts of the pigs, lulling you into a serene sense of calm. The days were warm but the nights were getting chillier and soon everyone in the prison would be in full preparation for the rough winter. Who knew what the walkers would be like this year when you were safely behind the tall gates instead of running from house to house, foraging for tiny rodents to eat to survive. 

A clang of a tray hitting the wooden picnic table pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over to see Daryl swinging his leg over to straddle the bench, an apprehensive smile on his face. At the sight of him, a grin broke free before you could stop it. 

“Di’nt see ya at dinner. It was yer favorite - venison. Had to fight the boys off to grab ya a plate.” 

You snorted at that. “It’s only my favorite because it’s the most normal thing we can get around here nowadays, but thanks.” 

“Was prob’ly the weirdest thing ya ever ate before...all this.” He countered. 

“Don’t be too sure!” He gave you a skeptical look at that, “I had alligator meat on a girls trip to New Orleans one time and it was pretty good. Think you could find me an alligator?” You teased, knocking his knee with yours. 

“Ya might hafta give me a day or two, see what I could do.” He patted your knee in return, ducking his head to hide his smile, his hand lingering for a moment. At his touch, a tingle ran through you like a shiver and you wrapped your arms around yourself, doing everything you could do to hold yourself together. “Ya cold?” 

Quicker than you could respond, he was peeling his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders, exposing his delicious muscles to the night air. On instinct, you slipped your arms through the sleeves and casually sniffed it. His unique scent of cigarette smoke, musk, and a faint trace of cologne from another life overwhelmed your senses and you shivered again, despite the warmth of safety and adoration that was sinking into your bones. Your eyes darted up to see if he’d noticed and connected with his, a blush blooming across yours and his cheeks. 

Breaking his eye contact, you looked back out to the dusky sky. How could you be letting these feelings creep back over you, after all the shit you’d escaped from, everything you’d promised yourself not to feel again. If you let him in, even as skilled as he was, he could be gone in the blink of an eye and you would be left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone. But it was so hard to remember that fact when he was so close to you and looking at you with those gorgeous blue eyes of his. It always felt so good when it was starting out. 

“I - uh - thank you for the strawberries. I don’t know how you managed to find the time to get them with the other things you had to get. I don’t know if I thought I’d ever eat strawberries again.” You said finally, breaking the easy silence. 

“Ah it’s easy if ya know where ta look, wasn’t a big deal.” He shrugged. 

“It’s a big deal to me, Dar. More than you’ll ever know. I appreciate everything you do for me.” You said quietly. He glanced back over at you and shifted a bit closer, his thick thighs brushing against you. Now his eyes were locked on yours with intensity. All it would take was the littlest move and you could press your lips against his. Maybe he would pull you close, maybe you could lose yourself in the idea of a future filled with a grumbly, kind man who made peace bloom in your soul. You were just a few breaths apart.

The sound of laughter broke the stillness of the courtyard and you both jumped apart, clearing your throats simultaneously. You looked up to watch Maggie and Glenn giggling to each other as they strolled hand-in-hand up the path from the bottom gate and into the prison, spears in tow and blood covered their fronts but somehow they were still clearly enjoying their alone time together. You envied their innocent love, never knowing the sting of betrayal. 

After an awkward five minutes of avoiding looking at him, you cleared your throat again.

“Uh, it’s getting late, I should probably try to get some sleep. I promised Carl and Patrick that I’d let them practice their new fighting moves on me tomorrow.” You shimmied your way off the bench and stood awkwardly. Daryl slowly moved to stand, still straddling the bench, watching you with a guarded expression. 

“Don’t forget yer dinner, don’t wanna waste good meat.” He lifted the forgotten tray up to you. 

“Thanks.” You reached for the tray, stopping as the sleeve of his jacket caught your eye. “Oh, here, your jacket-” 

Daryl waved you off, “keep it. Looks better on ya.” 

Giving him a tight smile, you turned on a heel and hightailed it out of the yard toward the cell block bathrooms. An imperative cold shower needed to clear your mind. 

You rounded the corner and bumped into Maggie coming out of the showers, both of you gripping elbows to stop from falling. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You mumbled.

A cheshire cat grin curled along Maggie’s face, “head in the clouds huh? It looked like you were having a pleasant conversation with Daryl. I didn’t figure we’d see ya before the crickets went to sleep.” 

“The crickets went - what? No, we were just having a normal conversation, like two friends.” 

“I didn’t realize friends talk with their mouths inches apart.” Maggie snickered. “Or jump apart like that when they get interrupted.” 

“It- We- Nothing happened.” You bit out defensively, crossing your arms as if you could shield out all her words. 

Maggie’s eyes widened slightly, reaching out to touch your arm. “Hey, I’m sorry. I was just teasing a bit, we’re all grown ups here. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your time with Daryl. You don’t have to hide it from me. I’m your friend, you know that right?” 

You released a bit of the tension in your shoulders and sighed. “Yeah of course I know that, Mags. It’s not you, just, Carol got in my head earlier saying that I was in lov-ya know what, it’s not important, it’s not true anyways. We’re just friends, nothing else.” 

You sidestepped her and headed into the bathroom, stopping at a tug on your wrist. Maggie gave you a soft smile, “Daryl wouldn’t be a bad guy to fall for... If you give it a chance.” 

“I’m not interested in something like that, Maggie.” Tugging out of her grasp, you slipped into the closest shower and turned on the water before she could say anything else.

The water soaked into your clothes as you backed up against the concrete and slid down the wall, banging your head a couple times in frustration. What was with everyone today, bringing up things that were none of their business. Emotions you’d prefer to stay locked inside. But now it was threatening to break free from the carefully built cage you’d made and you found yourself longing to seek out Daryl and beg him to show you everything you’d been missing by holding him at arm’s length. Beg him to wrap those strong arms around you and promise that you’d both be safe and happy for the rest of your days. 

No. You weren’t gonna let yourself go down that path any more today. This was something to face in the light of day.

With a strength you didn’t know you possessed, you stood up, trudged back to your cell, peeled the sopping wet clothes off and crawled into your tiny bunk. You’d figure things out in the morning. 

~~~~~ 

The next day, with a gritted determination to figure this entire situation out, you paced nervously outside the watchtower waiting for Daryl to show up. It was surprisingly empty in the yard still at this hour of morning. After fifteen minutes of waiting, Michonne appeared, heading toward you. 

“Hey, have you seen Daryl? I thought he had first shift this morning?” You asked, shoving your hands in the pockets of your jacket - his jacket - to hide the shaking. You hadn’t been able to leave the cell without it this morning. 

Michonne’s brow furrowed, “uh he left early this morning. Told Rick and I that he wanted to go on a run, said he needed to get out of the prison for a few days. I told him I’d cover his shift for him.” 

Your lips parted in surprise but you nodded, mumbling a thanks as you walked away. 

He’d left. He’d left and hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye. He hadn’t done that since the early days on the farm, before everything with the barn and the walkers happened. And now there was a chance you might never see him again. There was always a risk and he’d gambled on that. 

A lump formed in your throat but you pushed it down. You would not cry over him. You would not let your feelings be hurt. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Three days passed and there had been no sign of him. All of your friends had given you sympathetic smiles when they’d made eye contact with you - which had pissed you off even more. What the hell did they have to feel sorry about? It was him they should be worried about. What if he’d been caught by a group and needed help? What if he was dead? Why weren’t you good enough for a goodbye? You thought over every interaction you’d had with him - searching for signs that you made up any of his feelings for you. You’d found yourself wandering around the hallways at night, thoughts racing through your head a million miles a minute, sleep was an intangible thing. 

And there you were again, pacing back and forth along the wall. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Turn. Repeat. 

“The hell are ya doin’?” A gruff voice echoed in the silence.

You whirled to find Daryl watching you from the doorway, his crossbow dangling from his left hand and his pack hanging off his shoulder. His messy hair was damp like he’d stopped off at the showers on his way in. 

In three fast steps, you’d closed the distance between you two and shoved him hard into the wall and he let out a soft grunt at the impact. His backpack dropped to the ground with a loud thud that reverberated against the walls. 

“How could you just leave me like that?!” You shrieked, smacking his chest to emphasize every word. In a flash, his crossbow clattered on the floor and he gripped your shoulders to stop you from hitting him again. The stubborn tears you’d held in for the last three days started streaming down your face and struggled to pull out of his grip. “Why would you do that to me?! You could have died and I would never even know what happened to you! You know what that would do to me!” 

“Nah I wouldn’t.” He snapped, anger lacing his voice, slightly pushing you away from him. 

You reeled back at the harsh tone, the words stinging like you’d psychically been slapped. With a sharp nod of your head, you took another step back and turned, ready to tuck your tail and run back to your cell. If that’s how he wanted to be, then you didn’t want to be around him.

“I heard what ya said ta Maggie. That ya ain’t interested in me. I followed ya the other night because ya forgot your dinner.” You froze in place, wincing at the realization of what he was talking about. He let out a heavy sigh then said, “it’s fine, if that’s what ya want. I ain’t gonna pressure ya. I just needed to clear my head first.” 

“Daryl-” You started to say, turning back to face him.

“I’m not mad, I get that ya don’t feel that way for me.” He scratched his head awkwardly, the tangles in his hair pulling on his fingers, something he did when he was nervous. You desperately wanted to grab his hand and steady him. “Ya don’t have to feel bad, really.” 

“I do-”

“Ya really don’t-”

“I do feel that way for you. I lied - to Maggie.” Your voice was shaky. He raised his head to look at you, squinting his eyes questioningly. 

“Why would ya do that?” 

You blew out a nervous breath and moved to stand in front of him again. “I didn’t want to have feelings for you. I didn’t want to let myself trust you or let you in. Because that would mean that I had something to lose. Again. And I don’t want to lose you.” 

Understanding washed over his face. He lifted a hand slowly, like trying to calm a spooked horse. With one finger, he traced the shape of your jaw with a feather touch, his gaze searching your face for any hint of pity or lies. You knew he could see the truth when his expression softened. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his rough hands against your skin, trying to ignore the thought of those hands moving all over your body. 

“I can’t promise you won’t lose me, darlin’. But I promise to do everything in my power to never hurt you.” His voice rumbled close to your ear. “Let me take care of ya. Let me love ya.” 

He lifted his other hand and cupped your face, angling for better access, making your heart flutter in your chest. His lips brushed against yours, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted. You didn’t want to. You’d wasted enough time ignoring your feelings. You’d also spend too much time wondering how his lips felt. In a moment, you’d connected your lips to his in a timestopping kiss. It was better than you could have ever imagined.

The world around faded into nothing and it was just you and Daryl. Was this really happening?

The soft kiss turned heated in a flash, his tongue brushing against yours and he swallowed down the low moan you let out. He tasted like mint and cigarettes and the combination shot a pang of heat straight to your core.  

His hands trailed down your arms and settled on your hips, rotating you so your back was against the wall and the length of his hard body was pressed against yours, never breaking your kiss. You stood on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around his neck, trying desperately to get closer to him. 

Realizing what you were trying to do, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist. He’d lifted you like you were nothing to him, his muscles flexing slightly and you couldn’t stop from swooning a bit. You were both panting into each other's mouths, trying like hell not to pull apart. When the lack of oxygen started to make things fuzzy, Daryl trailed his lips along your jaw and down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, and you sucked in a breath. You felt drunk with need. 

Suddenly you were all too aware of how short your shorts were and how little fabric separated your bodies. His fingers dug into your flesh where he held you causing goosebumps to cover your bare legs, and you knew you’d have fingerprints on your ass tomorrow. The idea made you grind your hips against him a little harder and he groaned at the sensation. 

The sound broke through your hazy mind, the reality of where you were hitting you. Pushing against his chest a bit, you stuttered, “D-dar, wait.” 

His lips froze in place and he drug his nose back up neck until his forehead was resting against yours. His breath puffing against your mouth. “Yea?” 

“We’re in the hallway.” 

“And grass is green, sky is blue, fish swim.” He growled.

You huffed a laugh, “I mean, we should probably go somewhere more private before someone walks in on us.” 

Shifting his grip to hold you with one arm, he swept a piece of hair behind your ear and rubbed his thumb across your bottom lip. “You’re prob’ly right. I might hafta kill someone if they saw your beautiful lips all swollen like this.”

Butterflies fluttered low in your stomach again and you buried your face into the crook of his shoulder and neck. God, you wanted him so badly. Why had you resisted this for so long? 

Slowly, you dropped your legs to stand again, letting Daryl hold you up until they stopped shaking. When he thought you’d be able to stay up straight, he lifted your linked fingers up and kissed your knuckles. 

“Let’s go, angel. Ya can stay with me tonight.” In the guard office. The private guard office.

Nodding excitedly, you watched him grab up his backpack and crossbow and let him pull you in the direction of his room. 

“Ya know, Dar? You could’ve have just come and talked to me. You didn’t need to completely disappear for three days.” You peeked up at him out of the corner of your eye. 

He looked down at you and smiled smugly, “Ya coulda just told me ya were in love with me. What’s your excuse?” 

You rolled your eyes and tried to suppress a grin, “I’m not saying that out loud yet.” Knocking your shoulder into his, he stumbled closer and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. It was clear he knew you were full of shit but he would let you get away with it for a little while longer. 

“Oh, for I forget,” he burst out and started digging around in his backpack with one hand, “told ya it might take me a day or two...” 

You watched in surprise as he pulled out a small stuffed alligator toy and your heart skipped a beat. He’d seriously found you an alligator. 

“Oh my gosh, it’s so cute!” You grabbed it and held it tight to your chest. “I can’t believe you found this for me. How the heck do you find these things?” 

“I told ya, ya just hafta know where to look.” He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head. “Besides, it’s easy when I’m always thinkin’ about ya.”

[goquokka00]

Hiii! Can please write me a jeongin fanfic where u both are dating for a while now and after a long date u both are asleep and cuddling really close and skz being skz go into his room and catch u both (they didn't know u were dating) I really love ur fanfics and if u choose to write this one I know it would be amazing 💗 💓 💖

Absolutely! Honestly, this is such a cute idea, I love it so much, and I really hope that I did you justice! I'm also really hoping that I got the vibes of our wonderful baby bread down pat...I never know if I nail the members and how they behave. Hope you love it! Love you, pookie ❤️❤️❤️

Show, Don't Tell

Summary: You and Jeongin had been dating for a while now, a few months. But your relationship was a secret, up until your 6-month anniversary, where you and Jeongin fell asleep after a date, and some unexpected guests found you...

Pairing: Jeongin X Reader (F!)

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Word Count: 1.8K

The members of Stray Kids weren't stupid. They knew that something was up with their maknae. Jeongin was never this smiley, or happy. Not saying he was depressed or anything, but he was never this...lively. It was strange. But when they asked, Jeongin just said that it was nothing, and that he was perfectly fine. Nothing to suspect.

He didn't want them finding out about the relationship that he had with you.

Ever since the two of you had shared your feelings for each other after hanging out one night, going from friends to lovers, Jeongin had been the happiest he'd been in years. He felt whole. Complete. And it was all because of you. And you felt the same. Both of you completed each other, even before you both started to date.

The little problem was that Jeongin was nervous about telling the others about the relationship he had with you. Yes, Stray Kids knew about you. And all of you got along well. You saw them as your older brothers, just as he did. And they saw you like their little sister. But what Jeongin was nervous about what the others would say.

He was an idol, after all. He had to remember that. And he did remember that. If his members found out, he was scared that he'd be forced to share you with Stay as well. And that scared him. Stays were brutal, and he didn't want you to get hate. And so, for that reason, he kept it a secret.

But today, everything changed. And it all started with him showing up at your door, flowers in hand.

To sum it up shortly, it was your 6-month anniversary. Half a year. And that was big for both of you. And so, you two decided to celebrate by spending the day together. And it started here.

You opened the door, wearing a simple pair of jean shorts, a cropped hoodie, and those sneakers Jeongin bought you for your birthday. You had on some bracelets and a necklace he gave you for your 2-month anniversary. Your hair was down, and your makeup was done lightly.

"Wow....you look perfect, jagi." Jeongin smiled, holding the flowers out for you as he spoke, watching your face light up just as it always did. "Here, for you."

"Aw, You didn't have to, Jeongin." Your voice was soft as you spoke, that smile melting Jeongin's heart. The two of you shared a quick kiss before you ran back inside to put the flowers in a vase. And once you reappeared, the two of you linked hands, beginning your date.

The two of you went to a park, walking around and getting ice cream before going to the arcade to play games. The two of you kept score of who won what, and per usual, Jeongin beat you. But not by much. And then, it was off to a fancy restaurant for lunch. And the two of you talked and laughed, getting along just as well as you did when you were both friends.

But it was when the two of you went back to his place, going into his room and gently shutting the door before cuddling on the bed when you decided to ask Jeongin a question he was dreading.

"Baby, when do you plan on telling the others about us?" You gave Jeongin a curious but concerned look, seeing the way his face fell a bit as he sighed.

"I don't know..." He spoke, holding you closer to him. All you did was brush some hair out of his face, studying his features before speaking again.

"I'm not pressuring you, but...you can't keep it a secret forever."

"I know. I'm just nervous about what they'll say about it." Jeongin then looked to your eyes, and you could see the fighting he was doing with himself. It made your heart twist a bit. "I love you a lot, and I know you all get along...but I'm scared that they'll make me go public with you. And I'm definitely not ready for that."

"Jeongin..." You cooed, moving to hug him closer. "I don't think they'd ever do that. They're your friends..."

"They'll still bring it up..."

"Yeah, but you can't run away from the fact that you'll have to go public about our relationship eventually."

And that got Jeongin to go quiet. You looked at him, seeing the fighting continue before you smiled, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips, seeing his eyes widen a bit. And then, you pecked his lips again, smiling.

"Let's not focus on it right now. Today is about us, not about what we need to do in the future." You suggested, seeing the smile that appeared on his lips. And then, he pecked your lips in return, humming.

"I like that idea..."

||

All Chan was doing was going to get food, and wanted to know if Jeongin wanted anything. But when he didn't get a response, Chan just decided to knock, seeing if that would do the trick. And when even that didn't work, he opened the door. And immediately, he was met with a view he never expected in the history of his life.

There was Jeongin, holding you right against his chest, you in his hoodie and your leg up on his hip. His one hand was inside the hoodie, both of you sleeping close together. And immediately, Chan blinked before taking a picture and sending it to the groupchat.

And it wasn't long after when the rest of the group was over, standing in the doorway and ogling at the sight of their maknae cuddling with you.

"Holy shit..." Changbin mumbled, blinking before looking to Chan. "How the hell did he manage to score a girl before us?"

"Shh! They're sleeping!" Minho growled, his eyes harsh. The rapper just shrunk down, watching as Minho looked back at them.

"So, uh...what do we do?" Felix asked, looking to Chan. The leader just crossed his arms, running through the possibilities. It was hard to make a call, but eventually he smiled, looking to the couple.

"Let's leave them be for a bit. They're obviously tired. We can ask questions later." Chan said. And after that, he gently shoved the group out of the room, ushering them out. "Go go go, out we go."

"Aw, but they're so cute together!" Jisung whined, throwing his head back as he walked.

And as he continued to whine as the door was shut, Jeongin slowly woke up, groaning and lifting his head, looking to the door. He heard the commotion, thinking that maybe the group was having a meeting about something. Either way, he just grabbed his phone, opening it up to find...

Oh, no....

"Shit...Shit shit shit...!" Jeongin sat up, rubbing his eyes in disbelief as he stared at his phone, waking you up in the process. You groaned, lifting your head, still half asleep.

"Huh...?"

"They found out!" Jeongin's voice was panicked, but it was also quiet. And then, his eyes went to you. "Chan took a picture of us! See?"

"Aw...cute. You should send that to me." You said with a smile, still groggy.

"Y/N!"

"Sorry, sorry..." You then sat up, rubbing your eyes and yawning, looking to Jeongin before looking to his phone. "It was bound to happen eventually, you know."

"Not the point!" Jeongin then pointed to the door, his eyes panicked. "They're out there right now, talking! They're probably gonna force us to go public, and-and Chan's probably pissed, and--"

"And I'm gonna stop you right there." You then grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you. "Nobody can force you to do anything with this. And knowing them, they'll support you in whatever decision you make. They'll ask questions, yeah, but they'd never force you to do something you don't want to do."

Jeongin took a deep breath at your words, letting it out slowly before nodding his head. You had a point. Just like always.

"Right. Yeah." And then, he kissed your palm, smiling. "Might as well go and face the music."

||

And so, the two of you went out of the room, only to be bombarded with questions. And you both calmly answered the questions. All of them. How you were dating, how long you had been dating, how you both started dating, all of it. And then, you both looked to Chan.

"So you hid this for six months?" Chan asked, watching as Jeongin nodded. "And why is that?"

"I..." Jeongin started, taking a breath as he felt your hand in his. "I was nervous about telling all of you. I was scared that you guys were gonna force me to go public with this, and...and I really don't think that I'm personally ready for that yet."

Everyone was silent as Jeongin explained himself, listening to each word. They all looked at each other, only for Seungmin to speak up.

"That's the dumbest reason I've ever heard in my life." And as he spoke, Jeongin looked to him, eyes wide.

"No it's not!"

"Do you honestly think we'd force you to do that?" Minho asked, crossing his arms as he looked at the youngest. "We aren't monsters, jeez."

"Going public is huge, Jeongin. And that's a call you should make by yourself." Chan said, giving Jeongin a smile. "While I'm not exactly happy that you kept this from all of us, especially me, for six months...I can understand where you're coming from."

"And I'm sorry for that, hyung." Jeongin then looked to you, smiling softly. "I just...Y/n means the world to me. She makes me feel calmer, happier, warmer...she makes me feel complete. And I just don't want anything to jeopardize what we have between us."

"Aw, that's so adorable!" Hyunjin cooed, happy to hear that his friend was really that in love.

"So, I think we've learned a valuable lesson." Chan then clapped his hands together, smiling at you both. "From now on, no more secrets. I'd suggest going public sooner rather than later, but don't feel like you need to right away. Make sure you're both ready."

"Right. Thanks, hyung." Jeongin smiled, nodding his head. And then, he looked to you, seeing your smile.

"I told you." You said to him, seeing him sigh.

"Whatever..." Jeongin then nudged you, laughing a bit. "What a way to celebrate six months, huh?"

"Wait, celebrate?" Felix asked, blinking. You nodded, smiling to him.

"Yeah, today is our 6-month anniversary." You said. And instantly, the members froze, looking at each other.

"Oh my god, congrats!" Hyunjin exclaimed, all while Chan stood up, guiding the others out of the dorm.

"I am so sorry for doing this on your anniversary, you guys! We'll leave you alone, now." Chan said, dragging Jisung and Felix behind him.

"I'll make you guys brownies for it later!" Felix exclaimed, Jisung only whining as he was dragged out. And once everyone had cleared the area, you and Jeongin just smiled at each other.

What a way to celebrate six months...

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d @skzlover24

[martiansodas-blog]

a. donaldson x reader

word count: 1,899

contents: smut, domme!reader, sub!art, petplay, praise, catholic motifs, mommy kink, fluff

authors note: freak on a leash (haha get it).

“I got you something.”

You felt like a parent taking their kid to meet Santa.

You know something he doesn’t.

“What for?”

You shrug, trying to stay casual.

“Just cause.”

Perched on the king-sized bed, he watches patiently as you dig through the shared dresser. When you turn around, you’re holding a box. It's wine red with a bow on top.

You set it on his lap. He raises his eyebrows, silently asking for permission.

“Go ahead.”

He traces the soft velvet of the loop, the smoothness of the parcel, and then…

Suddenly he’s feeling cold, supple leather.

His eyes widen when he he realizes what he’s holding.

It cant be…

He inspects the craftsmanship, running a finger over the edge of the collar.

He’s equal parts shock and arousal.

He feels out of body until your voice brings him back.

“If you don’t like it, we can pretend it never happened.”

This dynamic was not new to you and Art, but this was a whole new step. To surprise him, you risked making him uncomfortable.

But that couldn't be farther from what he’s feeling. You just can’t tell because the box is covering his hard-on.

“No!” his head darts up, “ No, no.”

You find respite in his reaction.

“Want to wear it." he admits meekly.

Thank god.

“Just caught me off guard, that’s all”

He swallows apprehensively.

“Could I- could I try it on right now?”

You're proud of him for voicing his wants. He hasn't exactly always been good at that.

“Of course.”

Art holds the collar up for you to take. The motion reminds him of when he used to hold up a rosary for the prayer of the heart.

You gladly accepted.

His head tilts back for you, exposing the long pale curve of his neck.

His breaths are shaky.

You lean over him. It’s a simple hook, like one you’d find on a bracelet or necklace. It still takes a moment to clasp correctly because of the awkward angle, but eventually he feels the material bob over his throat.

It's snug, but not too snug.

Just right.

You take a step back to admire the view.

Wow.

“You look so handsome,” and you mean it, “S‘not too tight? Feel ok?”

Feel okay?

He clears his throat, "No it- it feels great."

You’ve never seen him this shy before.

“Thank you. I love it. I really do.”

“Well I'm glad. Just wanted to give my boy something special.”

You grab his collar (gently) and pull him close to you. It’s obvious on his face that he wasn’t expecting that. When you close the space between the two of you, all his inhibitions dissipate.

You’re kissing him and he moans into your mouth. His tongue is trying to touch every corner at once.

You straddle him and he scoots further on the bed to make room for you.

“I’ve seen you,” you say in between kisses, “you hump the mattress when you think I've fallen asleep.”

A sigh falls from bud wet lips.

“I'm sorry. Ever since we moved in together, god it’s like torture in the best way. Seeing my girl throw my laundry in with hers, make the bed we share, wear flowy dresses around the house… I can't help it.”

Poor boy.

“You know, it doesn’t hurt to ask.” a bit or teasing in your voice.

Yeah sure. Let me ask my girlfriend if she’ll be my free-use pillow. That'll go well.

“You know I have stamina. Maybe not as much as a professional athlete, but still.”

“It's embarrassing,” he mumbles, staring at the quilt, “I'm acting like a teenager.”

“Oh baby,” you coo, lifting his chin, “it’s only natural for puppy boys like you to act this way.”

Art swallowed, almost cartoonishly. It's a wonder his eyes didn't bug out of his head when he first saw the collar.

“You don't have to cage your desires.”

A bit of drool escaped from the corner of his mouth. You softly wiped it away with your thumb, then kept your hand there cradled on his cheek.

“Can you show me?” you ask softly and innocently, “Can you show me how good puppies treat their owners?”

He roused at this, nodding frantically. Tearing off your shirt and bra in a hurry. It’s a miracle he didn’t rip any seams. His arms found their place around your middle, the skin-to-skin making him dizzy.

He wastes no time putting a nipple into his mouth. Eyes closed, tongue going into muscle memory. He's so happy, so peaceful.

Your chest gets very slobbery very quickly. Kisses appear in the center of your chest, then on your ribs, then your stomach.

When he gets to your belly button, Art is half crouched and physically uncomfortable. So he puts a hand under each thigh, turns a hundred and eighty degrees and sets you down. All with the speed and ease of a man who’s done this a thousand times.

He looks at you in awe, mouth hanging open.

“Safeword?” you catechize

The word emerges as a beacon of trust and mutual respect:

“Quasar.”

“Good boy.” you nod, petting his face once more,

His lips meld to yours while his tough hands pulled off your leggings and underwear in one go.

He's back on your stomach. Able to stretch out.

Rubbing his face on it. He nips at your stretch marks, your hip joint, then rests a tiny kiss on your mound.

You whimpered the first moment his mouth moved in between your lips. But art was louder. He couldn't control his sounds any more than you could yours. His eyes closed and his tongue slurped up his favorite treat. It seemed like he couldn't swallow fast enough.

“God,” he panted,

Your back made a picturesque arch. He slid his hands under it.

His ears became covered by your thighs.

His face went lower and you felt the tip of his nose inside you.

He shakes his head from side to side. He would move in there, but unfortunately lack of oxygen forced him to remove his head.

He gathers some of your wetness on his pointer and middle finger. Very gently swirling them around. Then he rubs your clit at an insane pace, his biceps flexing.

It took you completely off guard. The speed and pressure on it. Like he was trying to rub it raw.

You gripped the bedsheets.

“Fuck!” you cried out “I can't, I-”

“Yes you can.” he said firmly, sucking your firm clit into his beautiful mouth.

“Please, cmon, gimme somethin. I'm thirsty, baby”

Those words alone could do it.

Before your Art, you always figured your body just couldn't squirt.

How wrong you were.

Not all of the people you'd been with were bad at sex, but they weren't him. It was the amount of attention he paid that made the blonde second to none.

Like right now, he rubbed soothing circles on your stomach while he did tricks with his tongue. Theres no metaphor needed- it felt fucking good.

“Haah... Uugh.. Aaah...”

You gripped onto his curls and gasped.

“Gonna make me cum.”

“Yes, please. Please mommy.”

He slid his middle finger in with his other hand and you were done for.

You experienced a climax so powerful it made you stupid for a moment. No weight, no thoughts, just senses. Spots of black covered your vision for a few seconds.

You smiled when you realized Art was laying kisses on your face.

“Thank you, ” you whispered, “That felt so good, baby.”

He hid his joy in the crook of your neck. You embrace him, stroking up and down his back. Then you look down to find the source of what's poking you. You grab his clothed cock.

“Let's do something about this, hm?”

He whimpers and nearly falls on you. Nodding and digging his palms into the mattress.

“Cmon,” you chuckle and jerk your head. “Lie down like a good boy.”

Within a matter of seconds, the both of you were now bare. The tennis player beneath you, where he can get out of his head.

“Do you need lube?” he asked, rubbing his hands up and down your waist.

“No,” you shook your head, “I think you got me plenty ready.” you said through a laugh.

He rolled his eyes but the grin was impossible to keep away.

“Thank you for asking, sweetie”

You pecked him in appreciation. It was over too soon for his liking.

You held his cock in your hand, admiring how pretty it was before getting it coated on your folds.

You let out moans and closed your eyes in synchronization. You loved when his precum would mix with your wetness. It was a feeling hard to describe, giving you goosebumps and making you ache for more.

“Mommy,” he whispered as you slipped it in.

You tried to control your breathing as you took him.

Art bit the back of his hand, restraining himself from cumming already.

“How do you make so so full every time?” you exhaled, throwing your head back as you started to grind your hips in circles.

A deep rumble came out of your chest.

“feelssogood.”

His eyes squeezed shut.

“Look at me, baby.”

You smiled from ear to ear when you saw his blue and hazel eyes.

“There's my angel.” you cooed in that sickly sweet voice.

He turned his head and bit the edge of the pillow. You started moving up and down on his cock. Your mouth is right by his ear.

“Bite me instead.”

He wastes no time. He let go of the pillow and sunk his teeth into your delicate neck.

“Ohhh..”

It was meant to be a nice thing for art, for his puppy brain to indulge in. But it made you short circuit. The sounds of him sucking your pulse point. The knowledge that there's a bruise when you get up. His breathy moans right in your ear.

“Such a good boy. Making mommy feel so go- fUck.”

He lifted his hips to meet yours. Going at a pace that would be inconceivable to anyone who doesn't train on a court for eight hours a day.

“So pretty in your fucking collar. Want you to wear it around the house.” you moaned hoarsely.

Art is not one of those losers who’s embarrassed to moan. He’s telling you alllll about it right now.

His thrusts from the bottom never lost intensity. It shook the whole bed.

“Gonna cum for you, mommy. Hnnnngh-“

“Cum inside, puppy, give me a litter.”

Art blacked out. You felt sticky and warm from the inside out. When you got off him it clung to your thighs.

You got him some water and cuddled him until he became more fully conscious again.

“Hey, precious.” you said ever so softly.

You planted a kiss on his forehead, bundled the both of you up in blankets and took his collar off.

“For safety you shouldn’t sleep in it. I’ll keep it right here on my nightstand.”

He nodded, still not ready to speak yet. That’s ok.

His arms wound tightly around your naked skin. He swore it was the softest thing he ever touched.

“We should get your name engraved on this. Or should it say “mommas boy?””

His signature blush started to show, he playfully shoved you. But underneath he loved the idea. He loved belonging.

[zeherili-ankhein]

Ok so I was sleeping just now and I saw this really cool dream and I need to tell this before I forget and cursedblr would love this ig..? @randomx123 @tehmam @tum-naam-sochlo-merese-ni-hora @mi-stress-of-chaos @stxrrynxghts @igotadigbickandureadthatwrong @wulfricnavy @hellincarnation

So in the starting I was in this dormitory school ashram kinda place and there was this another guy with me (he looked like a shaolin monk for some reason) and there was one teacher who was telling us about the rules of the place.

So he said the rules were that we cannot ever contact with anyone without permission and we can never watch anything for our entertainment that is like no music no videos no nothing. And we can't eat salt or any spices.

So now both me and the monk dude looked at the teacher like he was a dinosaur or something and the monk dude said well it won't be very bad since he already can live like that but he looked very hesitant.

And then that teacher dropped another bomb. He said and after sometimes we will have to give something as payment to the school. And said we will have to cut out pinky finger and give them atleast 46ml of blood from there.

And that shocked/scared both me and that monk dude and then I somehow got out of that room and run to another room which looked like a library with some hospital beds in it, an there were two other people who were in my gang/team or something

They were both sitting there with another woman and both of them looked somewhat brainwashed or just unhappy. So I hurriedly told them about the finger cutting thing and both of them gave very monotonous responses saying it's fine. But then I told one of them that she can't do her youtube channel since entertainment is banned and she looks shocked for a moment which made me get away from them. 💀💀

After that I come back to my dormitory which was near the front door for some reason and both the building door and the main campus door were open. Mind you my phone was in my pocket and then I looked at the bed and thought for a moment before picking up my journal from the bed along with my bag and shoes (I didn't even waste time wearing them)

Before I bolted out of the doors before the guards could stop me and I kind of ran like a mad person throwing the shoes on the ground to wear them once I was at a distance from that campus shit 💀💀✨

And while running I somehow got into the train station and got into a train that was just about to start and then just left like that.

Next scene I'm again on a train and this train was a little empty and those two girls who were my friends or something were also with me and I got to know it's been some days since I ran away from that campus and they also managed to escape along with other members from my gang and thankfully that monk dude too.

So they tell me that I am getting tracked because they got my information and they were also getting tracked with me. Atp I'm like yeah that's a legit cult they were asking for our blood for some weird rituals we need to run and the only way to do is break the rules.

I basically force them all to just watch random youtube videos and get them out of the control of that cult and it kind of works. But then another dude notices there are people from that cult following us on the train, who were sitting a little away from eachother and one or two of them were approaching us

I in a weird action sequences force them all to watch some brainrot videos on youtube and the lady approaching me kinds of gets in a trance before I follow her back to her seat and force all the other cult members to listen to music and make them not be the cult's members anymore 💀💀

Then scene again changes and I along with that monk dude and some other people are running inside this restaurant and some people from the cult are chasing us and we somehow manage to get them all to sit and eat with us and serves them all with salty food that only one dude escapes eating seeing everyone else

But just as he turned to get up to look at the other side in an attempt to run he looks at the screen on the wall and yeah for some reason 🌽 was playing on there and dude widens his eyes realising he lost and he's no longer in the cult.

So then we all kind of breath a sigh of relief and then scene shift back to that library with hospital bed place and a woman is there with her baby who's always sick and looked extremely red

And the teacher in that room tells her all the rules and she happily agrees to them to save her child but the teacher leaves out the blood one for some reason and gives a creepy smiley vibe as the screen focuses on the child's red face before my dream ended

💀💀💀💀💀

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(Carrie AU)

Lucifer was walking into the shower room to take a shower when he saw a crowd of both male and female students. He knew instantly what was going on. Once again his ex girlfriend Lilith had gathered students to torment Adam. It had been like this ever since they started grade school. Adam was the son of a very religious woman who declared that everyone was wicked and going to Hell. Many took their frustrations out on Adam. But Lilith enjoyed tormenting the young man.

Lucifer: What the fuck are you doing?

Lilith: Watching the pig take a shower.

Lucifer pushed his way through the small crowd and what he saw broke his heart. Adam was just trying to take a shower and students came to laugh at him because he was a little over weight. Adam cried as he tried to cover up his body with his hands. Some students were even filming this with their phones.

Adam: STOP IT!!!!!

The phones in their hands suddenly shattered and the lockers all suddenly opened and loudly slammed shut. Odd things like this always happened when Adam was in distress. Adam sank to the floor and broke down sobbing. Lucifer ran over not caring if the water from the shower got him wet. Adam looked up as Lucifer knelt by him. Lucifer was struck by how beautiful he was.

Adam: Why do they always make fun of me?

Lucifer: Because some people are cruel.

The gym teacher finally came out and yelled at the students for this. Lucifer just helped Adam get dressed. Adam was allowed to go home early and Lucifer asked if he could leave early since he knew Adam didn’t have a car, thankfully he was allowed to.

Adam: I don’t want to go home just yet.

Adam knew what waited there for him, Sera his mama who would blame him again and make him go to his closet to pray for forgiveness even though he did nothing.

Lucifer: Well it is lunch time, want to go and get something.

Adam: I would like that.

Lucifer bought Adam their lunch, he felt it was the least he could do especially since he didn't get there in time to stop it from happening.

Adam: This is delicious thank you.

Lucifer: You're welcome. And don't listen to them there's nothing wrong with how you look.

Adam felt his heart flutter, he's had the biggest crush on Lucifer since the third grade.

Adam: Really?

Lucifer: Yes really.

They ate their lunch and went for a walk in the park to eat up time. Lucifer knew what Adam's mother was like and he didn't want him to get in trouble.

Adam and Lucifer sat down by the duck pond and it was such a peaceful moment.

Lucifer: You're a lot stronger than you think.

Adam: Oh?

Lucifer: You deal with a lot...... But you deserve to be happy.

Adam wanted to be happy too, preferably with Lucifer. They waited out the clock together just talking all afternoon until Adam really had to go home.

Lucifer couldn't walk him all the way to his house, his mama would think they were having sexual relations and make him cleanse himself if his sins.

So Adam waved goodbye and watched Lucifer go with a smile on his face. He was so handsome and kind, his lips always looked so soft. He wondered what they would feel like against his own.

When Adam got home he looked around and found his mama in the kitchen making dinner.

Adam: I'm home mama.

[judyvan]

Dirty Laundry (The Girl) - A Sturniolo Fanfic

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Summary: Matt brings you over to meet his brothers, Nick and Chris, for the first time.

Warnings: MDNI/ smut/ mattxfem!reader/ pnv/ toxic intentions/ getting payback/ fluff/ pet names (baby)/ multiple part series/ use of "you"

A/N: This is part 4 of my series, "Dirty Laundry." For context, click here to find the previous parts. Interactions are appreciated. Pls don't steal my shit. Thx!💋

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Ever since your date, you and Matt have been inseparable. The two of you somehow manage to see each other at least once a day even if it’s just for half an hour. Tonight, you’re going to Matt’s house for the first time. This is also going to be your first time seeing your cheating ass ex, Chris.

[Matthew Sturniolo]

Hey. I wanna see you tonight. Wanna come to my place so I can introduce you to my brothers? 😁

[You]

We can do that. I’m so fucking nervous though. What if I’m awkward or they don’t like me?

[Matthew Sturniolo]

Don’t stress about it. I think they will really like you. Tonight isn’t going to be like a hangout with them or anything I’m just going to introduce you to them. After you’re more comfortable, we can make plans to do something with them. Sound good?

[You]

I love that idea. I’ll see you later. Wear something nice for me. 😉

You spend the day preparing to meet Matt and come face to face with someone you hate. After many hours, Matt arrives at your house to pick you up. He opens your door, and you get into his car. After you are both settled, he gently turns your face towards his and kisses you. The kiss is filled with his longing for your lips. When the kiss ends, you are both left breathless.

“I’ve been looking forward to that all day,” he smiles throwing the car in gear.

As Matt drives to his house, you both talk about what you’ve been up to since you saw each other last. In little to no time, Matt pulls into his driveway.

“Matt, are your brothers here? Where are the other cars?”

“They’re here. My brothers don’t drive,” Matt laughs as he gets out of the car.

He walks over to the passenger door and helps you out. He takes your hand in his and walks you to the door. You can feel your hand getting sweaty and shaky. Matt gently rubs his thumb over your hand, sensing what he thinks to be nervousness to meet his brothers. Deep down, you know that it’s just nervousness to see one of them.

“Hey, it’s okay. They aren’t scary I promise.”

Matt gives you a gentle smile as he unlocks his door. After you walk up the stairs, you see Chris and Nick sitting down on the couch.

“Hey guys, I want to introduce you to someone,” Matt starts as he starts to lead you towards them.

You and Chris make eye contact. All of the color leaves his face, and your insides fill with rage. You break into a huge grin, seeing his jaw clench and his eyes widen. Nick smiles as he gets up off of the couch and begins to walk over to you.

“Hello. You must be the girl that Matt hasn’t shut up about,” he wraps his arm around Matt as he looks down at you.

“That’s me. Or at least I hope it is,” you say, your eyes darting over to Chris’ at that last remark before you look at Matt and Nick giggling.

“It wouldn’t be anyone else,” Matt smiles, his hand leaving yours and making its way to your lower back.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you. I love your makeup by the way. You’re really pretty.”

“Thank you um…”

“Oh sorry, I’m Nick. Obviously, you know Matt and that one over there is Chris,” he gestures towards Chris who is still on the couch. His expression has now changed from a look of disbelief to a grimace of disgust.

“Hi, Chris,” you say with a smug grin.

“Sup,” Chris says before getting up. He walks directly to the kitchen table before sitting down and getting on his phone.

“What the fuck is his problem?” Nick asks looking at Matt.

“Couldn’t tell ya. He isn’t normally like this,” Matt says looking at you once again.

“Yeah, that motherfucker is normally bouncing off the walls like a fucking animal,” Nick says.

You and Matt both start to laugh at Nick’s remark.

“Well anyways, I’m getting ready to go out. Matt come help me pick out an outfit," Nick says grabbing Matt's arm as he starts to lead him towards the stairs.

"Why me," Matt says looking at you. "Let Chris help you."

"Do you see what Chris is fucking wearing, Matt? I think the fuck not. Now come on."

Nick drags Matt with him leaving only you and Chris downstairs. You walk over to the kitchen table and sit down across from Chris. You pull out your phone and ignore his presence.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Chris asks you, his tone full of bitterness.

“Scrolling through my phone,” you respond refusing to meet his eyes and poorly trying to hide your smile.

“I mean with my fucking brother.”

“Listen...umm. I’m sorry I didn’t realize how similar you all looked. You’re...Nick, right?”

You sit your phone down and look at Chris.

“Don’t act like you don’t know my fucking name. A few weeks ago, you were screaming it damn near every night,” Chris replies with a smug look on his face.

“Well, guess whose name I’ll be screaming tonight,” you say, your face no longer hiding the joy his anger is bringing you.

“Yeah okay,” Chris scoffs. “Obviously you have a type. I mean we look just alike. Seems like someone was missing me. You could've just answered my texts instead of getting with Matt. He won't be able to please you like I did.”

“You two may look alike but trust me you’re very different. Matt seemed to get all of the good traits, especially the ones that matter,” you say looking downwards.

“Fuck you. Believe it or not, I really cared about you.”

“No. All you fucking cared about Chris was having someone to fuck. It could’ve been me or whoever else was willing to,” you say as the sound of Nick and Matt’s footsteps grow louder.

Nick and Matt come up to the table, unable to sense the tension between you and Chris.

“Well, it was good to meet you. I’ll see you again soon. My friends are here to get me,” Nick says looking at you with a kind smile.

“It was nice meeting you too, Nick.”

“What time are you leaving Chris,” Matt asks as Nick heads to the door.

“I’m about to leave right now.”

“Okay. Well we are going to go upstairs. I’ll see you later,” Matt says helping you out of your chair.

“Whatever,” Chris says in a pissy tone.

Matt starts to lead you to the stairs, his large hand placed on the small of your back.

“I’m sorry about him. I don’t know what his deal is.”

“It’s okay. Maybe next time will be better.”

“Yeah hopefully. This is my room,” Matt says pushing the door open. “Make yourself at home.”

You walk over and sit down on his bed. Matt quickly joins you and you pull him in for a kiss.

“Well I missed you too,” Matt says with a laugh, pulling you on top of him.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” you say with a smile, your kisses growing more and more hungry.

You both hear the sound of a door shutting.

“Matt I want you so bad right now.”

Without hesitation, Matt quickly takes his shirt off before climbing on top of you. He starts to kiss your neck sending shivers down your spine. His hand slips underneath your shirt and starts to explore your skin. He slowly takes off your shirt, and continues to explore your body, this time with his mouth. His lips connecting with your skin begins to leave you breathless. Matt quickly sits up and takes his pants off as you remove your bra. He takes off your pants and tosses them on the floor, right beside his.

“Let me show you how much I missed you,” he says, his voice filled with desire.

He starts to trail his mouth down your body, no area of skin left untouched. You gently guide his head back up to yours, kissing him hungrily. Matt begins to grind against you, showing you how badly he wants you too. Your hips thrust upwards, desperately searching for more friction. The soft moans coming out of you are starting to fill Matt's mouth. He gently pulls away from you and rolls over to his nightstand, grabbing a condom out of the first drawer. You slowly slide off your underwear as Matt takes off his own. He puts the condom on and kisses you slowly as he starts to push into you. He wraps your legs around his waist as he starts to pick up his movements. Sounds of your pleasure start to feel the room as Matt slams into you repeatedly. You let your head fall backwards and Matt quickly meets your throat, nipping at it gently then soothing the pain with his tongue and lips.

"Look at me," he says, pulling his mouth off of your neck. "Let me see those pretty eyes."

You meet his gaze as he continues to pound into you. As you make eye contact, Matt begins to thrust harder and faster into you. You throw your hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming.

"Are you okay?"

You nod your head frantically.

"Does it feel good?"

You start to nod again taking your hand off of your mouth and biting your lip.

"Let me hear how good it feels, baby. It's okay."

You stop holding back your moans as the pressure inside you builds.

"You're close, aren't you?" Matt asks.

"Yes, Matt! Please don't stop."

Your nails dig into his back as you feel your climax approaching.

"Oh my god, Matt!" you scream as you come undone underneath him.

Your screams are so loud they make the walls shake.

"Oh fuck," Matt groans in your ear as he finishes.

He continues to pump into you a few more times, riding out the after waves. He collapses on top of you and gently kisses your temple. He pulls out of you and discards the condom. Matt pulls you into his arms and rubs your back.

"You did so good," Matt praises.

Suddenly the both of you hear a toilet flush and a few seconds later the front door slams. You and Matt look at each other terrified.

"Oh shit," Matt says. "I thought Chris already left."

"Fuck," you say covering your face in embarrassment. "He already didn't like me before Matt, he's really going to hate me now."

"Hey, that's not true," Matt says. "I think he may just be having an off day. I'm sorry. I'll talk to him about this later. Hopefully he won't hold anything against us or tell Nick."

You listen to Matt's words and focus on concealing the amount of joy this incident has brought you. Not only did Chris see you with his brother, but in the same day, he also heard you have sex with his brother. There was no better way for you to get revenge. Now you can focus on Matt and Matt only. Matt helps you clean up. The two of you get dressed and head downstairs to watch a movie. As you lay down on the couch, Matt lays opposite of you and pulls your feet onto his chest. He starts to give you a foot massage and you begin to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Matt asks with a smile. "Are you ticklish?"

"Yea, I am, but that's not why I'm laughing," you start. "I'm laughing because you must really like me to be touching my feet for no reason."

Matt looks up at you sweetly, his hands never leaving your foot.

"I do really like you," Matt says with a shy laugh. "I really really like you actually."

"Oh? Is that so?" you respond jokingly. "Well that's good because I really really like you too."

Matt blushes as he continues to rub your feet. After a few minutes pass, Matt speaks again.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

The question catches off guard, but the answer doesn't require much thinking.

"I would love to be your girlfriend," you reply blushing.

Matt quickly releases your feet and climbs on top of you, peppering your face with kisses. You start to giggle.

"I want to take you out. Like on a real date as my girlfriend. I'm not free until next week though. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes."

"Thank God. I don't know what we will do yet, but all I do know is I want to show you off. I want to post you. Is that okay?" he asks excitedly.

"Absolutely."

If you would like to join or be removed from my tag list at any point in time, feel free to let me know! 💋

Taglist: @welovestromboli @2prcntmilkluvr @stvrnzwrld @wh0remikasas @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @chrislovespepsi @leovaldezluvr @maggiie @edwardscoldhands @s4turniolo @icameheretoreadshi

Come back for part 5 to see how your date with Matt goes and what his fans think about you!