#it does feel good not being that....out of control

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: yandere, controlling behavior, coercive control, infantilization, extreme patronization, gaslighting, manipulation, food pusher, forced eating 

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about overcaring boyfriend…

You know, he’s always asking if you’ve eaten today, if you’ve drunk enough water, if you’re wearing enough layers. Typical boyfriend stuff. Only it’s not. No, far from it.

Because he does so by telling you off. Pulling a sweater over your little party dress to conceal you. It’s cold outside, he’ll say, kissing your forehead with a smile—he wouldn’t want you getting the sniffles. And besides, you can undress for him when the two of you’re alone—there’s no need to do it in front of the world.

Scolding you for getting too drunk even when you’re just tipsy. Shaking his head and clicking his tongue at you, urging you to drink water as if it’s your first time touching alcohol. Staying sober himself so that he can take care of you—somebody’s going to have to drive you home at the end of the night, or who knows where you’ll end up! 

Telling you that you’re flirting too much, causing all the guys to stare at you even when you’ve only been talking to your girlfriends. Purposefully getting into a fight with you so that he can excuse you both, apologizing to everyone for what a difficult drunk you are—making you so embarrassed and ashamed you end up following him to the car with your tail tucked between your legs��also because he keeps your phone and purse on him, for safekeeping of course, so you don’t forget or lose them somehow.

“I’m not hungry,” you mumble under your breath. 

He sighs, standing behind you, leaning his hands against the back of the chair you’re seated in. “You say that, but I can’t trust you, can I?”

His head drops to your shoulder, cheek to cheek, hugging you from behind while his arms slip down your chest, feeling your ribs with a curious and clinical touch.

“I know you’re body better than anyone and I can tell you’ve been skipping meals.”

You shake your head. “I haven’t.” It’s the truth—you really haven’t. It’s normal for bodies to change a little every now and again. But it’s not as if he’d ever accept that as an excuse.

“I don’t want to argue,” is all he says. “Now, be a good girl and eat your cake.”

If it were a piece of cake, you’d have gotten it well over with already. But the platter placed in front of you was enough to feed an entire dinner party. Pink and triple-stacked with mountains of decorative buttercream frosting—god only knows what else is inside.

“I’m not eating an entire cake.” That would be ridiculous. Anyone would agree. But not him. No, you know how serious he is.

“You wouldn’t have to if you just ate when I told you earlier.” 

He speaks softly, in a manner as if it isn’t even your fault to begin with but his own. He’s in charge, after all. All he’s accusing you of is being a handful.

“But here we are…”

He grabs the spoon he’d laid out—no, not a cake fork or a teaspoon, but a tablespoon—and proceeds to gather one big mouthful for you. 

“One drunken, starved girlfriend and one tired, concerned boyfriend.”

You shake your head and seal your lips as he brings the portion up to your mouth.

“If I eat all that, I’m gonna be sick. I just wanna go to bed–” you plead, but he cuts you off.

“It’d be better for you to get sick now instead of tomorrow.” His other hand takes your chin soft but strictly, holding you firmly in place. “Come on now, say ah.”

You’re crying by the end of it. Throat sore and belly overfull, feeling nauseous beyond belief.

“Last bite,” he says, and you no longer have the strength to refuse, even when you doubt there’s any room left to spare. You force it down, and he praises you for it with a kiss on your frosting-smeared cheek. “Good job.”

Between the cake, the alcohol, and his coddling, of course, you feel sick to your stomach.

“What a mess…” he drawls while he holds your hair back from the toilet bowl. 

You feel filthy, sitting on the bathroom tiles between his legs as he rubs your back and coos. 

“You’re lucky you’re so cute, or who knows who’d bother taking care of you—honestly, you’re worse than a baby sometimes. Utterly hopeless.”

He kisses your exposed nape. You swear you feel him smile.

“I’m just kidding. I’ll always take care of you no matter what.”

You hurl again—nothing but pink cream and sprinkles coming out.

“Even if you had no legs and no arms. Even if you were blind and deaf and mute, I’d still be here.” You shudder while he vows. 

You know he means it, too. Suppose that’s a little romantic. It’s just you can’t shake the feeling that he’d prefer for you to be that way.

“You feeling any better?” he asks.

You nod your head.

“Good. Then let’s get you to bed.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Shoto, Kirishima, Hawks, Shinso, Natsuo, Mirio, young AFO ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Kuro, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ CSM – Aki, Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[winterspellsfrozenkit]

One thing I wish was understood a bit better about Twisted Wonderland.

Everyone in this game has trauma or personal struggles and it's NOT a competition of who has it worse. Honestly, sometimes I wish everyone's traumas were discussed more in depth in the game like we get with each person who Overblots, but we don't have time for it. With the Overblot boys, their trauma is shoved directly into the spotlight and we hear exactly how their situations make them feel. But the rest of the cast, ALL of them, have personal struggles and/or trauma. This is just a small list of some of the issues each non Overblot student has.

Ace masks the fear he feels in a lot of situations, and he's got an inferiority complex on some level. Notice how he bullied the player and Grim in our first interaction? That is a sign of someone who is looking to feel better by pushing someone else down because they don't feel good about themselves.

Deuce grew up with a single mother who had to work multiple jobs to make ends meet, which causes him to worry about her, and he was a delinquent in middle school, which made his mom, the one person he worries over, cry. He lives with those regrets, but he's still got those old habits and he agonizes over the fact he's not academically where he'd like to be and his behavior regresses when in heated situations.

Trey has severe trauma at being screamed at for FIVE HOURS over giving Riddle ONE slice of tart, so much that his vitals are severely affected at the thought of Mrs. Rosehearts and he's heavily conflict avoidant.

Cater has had to move all the time and as a defense mechanism, refuses to be honest or get close to people because he doesn't want to get attached only to be ripped away from them.

Ruggie lives in EXTREME poverty when not at school. He struggles to make ends meet and he has to work so hard in a system that is DESIGNED to keep him in poverty, because many beastmen still prefer segregation in the Sunset Savannah.

Jack has one of the healthier mindsets, but he still struggles with being open and honest about his feelings, which makes it hard to have friends, and he struggled with watching Leona, someone he's idolized, fall short of what he believed of Leona.

Jade and Floyd are implied to have grown up in some form of crime family and both seem to have handled the fact their lives could be in constant danger differently. Both like things being interesting, but Jade seems to prefer seclusion and control, while Floyd enjoys scaring people off and having as much fun as he can before he goes.

Kalim is someone who has had multiple assassination attempts on his life, even from his own family. He masks behind a smile, but he's afraid to trust people, and when he DOES TRY to talk about it, it gets brushed off because he has money. Also, he has to deal with the fact Jamil has been undermining his ability to progress by not treating him as if he's capable at all.

Epel has been teased and bullied on how he looked to the point where he started instigating fights to ensure he wouldn't be teased. He also has to fall in line with what Vil wants because he made the error of picking a fight with Vil and getting his butt HANDED to him. To further add, Vil is NOT NICE about it when Epel resists, with one example being Vil grabbing him by the ear and pulling hard as a form of punishment.

Rook has deal with the fact that for being someone who is super perceptive and can notice details, he didn't realize Vil's feelings around Neige, likely because he was blinded by his own admiration for both of them and that's a bitter pill to swallow.

Ortho has to deal with being basically created as a replacement for dead Ortho Shroud, trying to figure out if he's just really a robot made by Idia with really good AI or more than that, and dealing with the fact he loves his brother so much, but his brother doesn't take care of himself and it's disheartening to watch Idia's self-destruction.

Lilia has so much war trauma, losing his loved ones, having been exiled, and so much other crap. Even so, he forced himself to put the war and his trauma about it in the past, where it belonged for the sake of his two sons who both lost so much to war, which is something Baur/Baul could NOT do which was to Sebek's detriment.

Silver has had to live with the idea that his adoptive father would likely outlive him, then is faced with the fact that his father is basically abandoning everything about their life in Briar Valley before he learns that his biological parents were the enemies of the person he serves and cares about, Malleus, and the only father he's ever known.

Sebek has grown up with internalized racism/speciesism against humans thanks to his upbringing and he basically rejects half of his heritage with how he treats his father. He does not even realize how hurtful his comments are until he's faced with those remarks being directed at him by a younger version of his grandfather.

And this isn't everything each student has to face. This is just broad strokes. Yana Toboso wrote a story about flawed people who all have gone through really hard and difficult things because that's the point. As Toboso said in a 2023 interview:

“Happy endings in Disney works come from righteous actions and love, but I believe that the villains are characters who do not get saved during the story. That is why, through this game, I want to portray the message that even if you get beat up all the way to a bad ending, you can grow from it and live your life without feeling discouraged.

Acting lame, obstinate, without hesitation, being open and honest—it’s not as bad as it sounds. 

I would like to paint a positive picture of living honestly with yourself and not worrying about others.

In today’s society there are so many people who live in fear of failure and are always walking on eggshells, but nobody’s flawless. It is exhausting to try to live your life so that no one will hate you.”

Everyone, even people you don't know or do not like, have gone through things that shaped who they are. Sometimes, how we've adapted to handle the bad things that happen will force us to hit rock bottom. But you don't have to die when you hit rock bottom.

You can have terrible things happen to you and have maladaptive strategies to handle your experiences, but you aren't stuck that way forever. You can learn how to change your habits, learn to be okay with yourself, and work at being better than you were the day before.

Human growth is not linear. It's a bunch of taking steps forward and backsliding and learning and making mistakes over and over again and accepting failure, not as a testament to your character, but as part of the process of growth... and that's something all the students have to learn, not just the Overblot boys. Because all of them, every single one, are handling their own personal issues, even if it isn't shoved right in our faces.

[seitmai]

Many thoughts

“Yes! Tell me he’s spoiling you the way he’s spoiling us today.” You shrank back in your seat a bit. It wasn’t that it was the first time you were the center of attention with your friends, but it overwhelmed you specifically since it concerned Bucky. “Well, he bought me this outfit. And he has bought me a ton of books since I love to read,” you answered. You weren’t about to say that he transferred a ton of money into your account. “And on our first date he gave me a diamond necklace.”

Oh no being the center of attention is bad, but because of Bucky, the person that she wants to not really think or talk about? Arguably worse

“We all know you aren’t going to flaunt any gift he gets you, but you should’ve seen the way he looked at you. He had hearts in his eyes,” Gina smiled. You tried to smile back. There were hearts alright, along with some darkness that they weren’t aware of. “I’m surprised he even looked at us.” “Yeah, he’s… kind of intense like that,” you said. That was the word you’d go with. “Intense isn’t necessarily bad.” Addison scooted closer to you. “And you’re happy, right? He treats you well?”

Intense is one way to describe it...

If being treated like a doll, having you followed, and showering you with affection while messing with your head was meant to make you happy… “He thinks we’re soulmates. That we were meant to find each other and be together. It’s… a lot,” you said carefully. “I haven’t had anyone who seems to need me the way he does, especially so quickly.” “Soulmates? Wow,” Addison said. “I can see why you’d say it’s a lot.”

And with a lot she really means A LOT

“Ahh! You beautiful slut! Thigh riding is so hot!” If anyone ever needed a hype girl or enabler, Dana was the one to call. “And what are you waiting for?! Let him fuck you and eat your kitty. Do it for us.”

Do it for us lmao

“Hey. There’s nothing wrong with waiting,” Addison promised. Of all of your friends, she’d snap if Bucky ever hurt you. “You wait as long as you want.”

Period

“I’m texting my man and telling him you got a diamond necklace.” Dana quickly typed something on her phone. “He needs to step up his game.”

Fair hahha this is the only way to use Buckys affection for good 😅

You were on the verge of tears. They were happy for you, but didn't seem to notice your discomfort. You didn’t blame them. Not at all. It was your fault for not being truthful about the true nature of your relationship. That wedge you imagined Bucky was trying to drive between you and your friends felt real and they didn't even know.

💔💔💔

“Wow. If you’re considering that it’s either because you’re going along with what he wants or you really care about him. I hope it’s the latter,” she said, her brows pinching in concern. “But, listen, if you aren’t ready for that, he has to understand you haven’t dated in some time and you should go at the pace that makes you feel comfortable. I’m sure he’ll understand and it shouldn’t change how he feels.”

She's a good friend 🫶🏻

Your words caught in your throat. The pace wasn’t yours to control, even if Natasha said you had power. There was no choice in moving in and you wish you could blurt out every single thing that transpired, but the words refused to come out. Because all you could think about was what would happen to Addison, and she didn’t deserve any kind of pain.

This just breaks my heart 💔

You blinked tears away before you hugged her. You were lucky to have a friend like her. “A frying pan? What happened to a shovel?” you teased. “Frying pan is more accessible,” she teased back, giving you a squeeze. “Now let’s go. We have some wine to try.”

Fair 😅

You inhaled. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. Everything went back to him, and you had to say something. “You know what I should tell her?” You smiled as they listened expectantly. “I should tell her that even though Bucky is rich and handsome and could have anyone he wants, he stalked me and coerced me into being his girlfriend. You think her head will still explode, or will she just laugh?” The table went silent as you sipped your wine before they burst out laughing. A few heads turned your way from the sound, and you didn’t crack a smile when Ray made eye contact with you. Had he heard what you said?

Iconic!! Let it out!!

“What?” Bucky growled. He could be angry all he wanted. You didn’t care. “This isn’t something to argue about or negotiate, I need you safe and-” “Safe? You need me to be safe?” you asked, trying to stay calm amidst the storm inside you. “Has it occurred to you that the entire reason I’m not safe is because of you? That the only reason Zemo even cares about following me is because I’m your girl?”

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

“But you didn’t, Bucky. You didn’t let me know what I was getting into. One look at me and you made the decision for me and sealed my fate,” you continued, looking sadly at Ray. “So while I’m thinking of you today like you wanted, I want you to think of me and that target you painted on my back and my loved ones. And think about if you really love me the way you say you do.”

I love that she makes him rethink his choices! Not sure how useful it is but still!

“I’m finishing the day with my friends. Ray will stay here with me. I also need to go to my place before I go to the penthouse,” you said. If he wanted you there so badly, he could bend a bit since you were in no direct danger at the moment. “And don’t expect a happy conversation like we had this morning.”

Good for her!

You stared at your own glass, dread filling your stomach. You felt perfectly fine, but they looked tired. Was it possible that someone slipped something in their drinks or food? Did Ray do something or did Bucky set something up in order to make you leave? Or were you just being paranoid?

Oh no 🙈

You read the message twice. A flat tire? You were about to type back to Bucky that you already left the limo when you heard a familiar voice by the elevator. “It’s about time you got back.”

Not good😬

Hold You Tight: Part 19

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 18 | Series Masterlist | Part 20

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.2k

Chapter Summary: Your day out with your friends isn't as relaxing as you want it to be.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, drinking, suspected drugging, reference to stalking and violence, your friends are cheering you on, inner turmoil, stubborn reader, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you again for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You wished you could say you breathed easier as the limo pulled away, but you didn’t. You felt Bucky’s piercing eyes on you, watching until you were completely out of sight. He still wasn’t “out of sight, out of mind.” He made sure you’d think about him, and Ray was following in his vehicle. Even glancing quickly at the limo partition you could see that it was cracked. Was the driver one of Bucky’s men?

“Okay, so your new boyfriend is stupidly hot and loaded,” Dana said, her eyes darting around the limo. “You should be proud of yourself. Holy shit.”

“I should be proud of somehow snagging a hot and loaded guy?” you laughed a little. You always told yourself money wasn’t a factor as long as the love was there.

“Yes! Tell me he’s spoiling you the way he’s spoiling us today.”

You shrank back in your seat a bit. It wasn’t that it was the first time you were the center of attention with your friends, but it overwhelmed you specifically since it concerned Bucky. “Well, he bought me this outfit. And he has bought me a ton of books since I love to read,” you answered. You weren’t about to say that he transferred a ton of money into your account. “And on our first date he gave me a diamond necklace.”

The girls gasped. “Clothes, books, and a diamond necklace?! Yeah, be proud and fucking flaunt it,” Dana encouraged. She had to be half teasing since she knew that wasn’t your style. “Gina, Addison, back me up here.”

“We all know you aren’t going to flaunt any gift he gets you, but you should’ve seen the way he looked at you. He had hearts in his eyes,” Gina smiled. You tried to smile back. There were hearts alright, along with some darkness that they weren’t aware of. “I’m surprised he even looked at us.”

“Yeah, he’s… kind of intense like that,” you said. That was the word you’d go with.

“Intense isn’t necessarily bad.” Addison scooted closer to you. “And you’re happy, right? He treats you well?”

If being treated like a doll, having you followed, and showering you with affection while messing with your head was meant to make you happy… “He thinks we’re soulmates. That we were meant to find each other and be together. It’s… a lot,” you said carefully. “I haven’t had anyone who seems to need me the way he does, especially so quickly.”

“Soulmates? Wow,” Addison said. “I can see why you’d say it’s a lot.”

You could’ve hugged her. Maybe she saw through some of the charade. If she did, that could also put her in danger if she spoke out.

“Or maybe he just knows what he wants and he’s an all in kind of guy,” Dana commented. She had no idea. “Wait! Have you two had sex?!”

“No, we haven’t had sex yet,” you answered. Just him jerking off over the phone and some heavy petting and jerking off again with you nearby. “But he really wants to sleep with me and I did ride his thigh,” you mumbled.

It was still clear as day in your head, how he encouraged you to get off, his lips against yours. You didn’t want to think about it, but Bucky got his way and invaded your thoughts. It was inevitable.

“Ahh! You beautiful slut! Thigh riding is so hot!” If anyone ever needed a hype girl or enabler, Dana was the one to call. “And what are you waiting for?! Let him fuck you and eat your kitty. Do it for us.”

“Hey. There’s nothing wrong with waiting,” Addison promised. Of all of your friends, she’d snap if Bucky ever hurt you. “You wait as long as you want.”

You were trying to wait, but it was only a matter of time before you had to sleep with him. “It’s just…”

“Are you worried that his feelings will fade once you two have sex?” Gina asked.

“I’m not worried about his feelings diminishing,” you said with complete sincerity. His feelings wouldn’t waver, even if his actions screamed love-bombing. “I just… I guess I never pictured myself dating someone who owns a nightclub. He just seems out of my league.”

And he was someone who had very dangerous ties.

“No, we don’t put ourselves down here. Every league is your league, and he should be honored to be your guy.” Dana clapped her hands together. “Ooh! What if we do a big date night at his club? We bring our guys, and we can all hang out?”

Your eyes widened. “I… Maybe,” you replied. It would just be another chance for Bucky to charm them, and it felt like you’d be asking him for a favor by letting your friends in. He’d probably love it.

“I’m texting my man and telling him you got a diamond necklace.” Dana quickly typed something on her phone. “He needs to step up his game.”

You were on the verge of tears. They were happy for you, but didn't seem to notice your discomfort. You didn’t blame them. Not at all. It was your fault for not being truthful about the true nature of your relationship. That wedge you imagined Bucky was trying to drive between you and your friends felt real and they didn't even know.

“As fun as it is talking about Bucky, maybe we can talk about something else?” you smiled, nudging Addison. You didn’t want this whole day to be about Bucky and your relationship. “Your big day is getting closer.”

“Yes, it is,” she smiled.

You relaxed in the seat when the conversation shifted to the wedding and found yourself smiling and laughing through the rest of the ride. Bucky still lingered in your mind since he’d be at the wedding. The nice part was that since you were in the bridal party, he couldn’t spend the entire day with you.

“We’re here!” Addison smiled as the limo eventually came to a stop.

You were the last to get out and you took a deep breath. The winery was the perfect mix of relaxation, beauty, and good vibes. The lush vineyard stretched across the hills, and you wished for a moment you could run through them and disappear. The sun on your face brought you back to the present and made you smile, and you couldn't wait to sample some wine with the girls. You had a right to enjoy your time.

“You coming?” Dana asked.

“You two go ahead. We’ll be right in,” Addison said, linking her arm with yours and leading you away from the limo. You tensed up only for a moment when you saw Ray’s vehicle in the distance. It didn’t look completely out of place though since there were other cars and people around. “Okay, what’s up? You seem on edge.”

“I do?” you asked. You thought she didn’t notice, and you should’ve known better.

“Yeah. Is it work? Or is it about Bucky?” You tensed up again. “Did you think we wouldn’t like him?”

“No, that’s not it. It’s just a lot really fast, that’s all,” you said, leaning in to whisper, “I didn’t want to say it in the limo, but he wants me to move in with him.”

She stopped walking. “Whoa. Okay, that is fast, but some couples do move quickly in whirlwind romances, so I wouldn’t say it’s completely out of the ordinary. Brady and I knew right away that we wanted to be together,” she said. What she had with Brady was pure, and you could’ve possibly had that with Bucky in another life. “Maybe Dana’s right that he just knows what he wants and he wants to go all in.”

“He’s very much all in,” you agreed.

“Are you considering moving in with him?”

“Maybe,” you said. Bucky was going to force his hand either way.

“Wow. If you’re considering that it’s either because you’re going along with what he wants or you really care about him. I hope it’s the latter,” she said, her brows pinching in concern. “But, listen, if you aren’t ready for that, he has to understand you haven’t dated in some time and you should go at the pace that makes you feel comfortable. I’m sure he’ll understand and it shouldn’t change how he feels.”

Your words caught in your throat. The pace wasn’t yours to control, even if Natasha said you had power. There was no choice in moving in and you wish you could blurt out every single thing that transpired, but the words refused to come out. Because all you could think about was what would happen to Addison, and she didn’t deserve any kind of pain.

“And if I do care about him and want to move in?” you asked.

“You know we’ll support whatever you do, but think about it carefully because that’s a big step. And if things go south, you tell us right away so we can help,” she said, giving you a small smile. “He may be your boyfriend, but you’re still my best friend and I was here first. I’ll smack him with a frying pan if he messes up.”

You blinked tears away before you hugged her. You were lucky to have a friend like her. “A frying pan? What happened to a shovel?” you teased.

“Frying pan is more accessible,” she teased back, giving you a squeeze. “Now let’s go. We have some wine to try.”

Ray kept a respectable distance from your table and didn’t make eye contact as he pretended to read while sipping his drink. You were glad for that since your friends didn’t seem to take notice of him as you all ate and sampled various wines. Though you were having a great time, you hardly drank a drop. You wanted to stay on guard in case Bucky decided to crash the outing.

“Oh, we need to take a bottle of this home,” Dana said, pointing at her empty glass. “And where the hell is your cousin?!”

“She bailed.” Addison rolled her eyes. “That's exactly why she’s not in the wedding party. I can’t rely on her.”

“That and she’s a bitch,” Dana said unapologetically while pointing at you. “We know she would’ve said something shitty about you and Bucky, and we don’t need that bad energy.”

You scoffed. Addison’s cousin was the type who always had to one-up someone or try to tear them down so she felt better about herself. You tried to see the best in others, but you were admittedly glad she wasn’t there today. “I’m sure she’ll have something to say at the wedding.”

“If she does say anything, don’t listen to her,” Addison urged. “Or say something back to shut her down.”

“Rub it in her face how hot and rich Bucky is,” Dana grinned, nudging you with her elbow. “Her head will explode.”

You inhaled. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. Everything went back to him, and you had to say something. “You know what I should tell her?” You smiled as they listened expectantly. “I should tell her that even though Bucky is rich and handsome and could have anyone he wants, he stalked me and coerced me into being his girlfriend. You think her head will still explode, or will she just laugh?”

The table went silent as you sipped your wine before they burst out laughing. A few heads turned your way from the sound, and you didn’t crack a smile when Ray made eye contact with you. Had he heard what you said?

Dana laughed so hard she wheezed. “You don’t understand. I need you to tell her that just to see the look on her face. Please. I beg of you.”

“And make sure Bucky’s in on the joke, too,” Gina giggled.

Your heart sank. Their safety came first, but the reaction was another reason you didn’t say anything. Who would possibly believe you? He was a rich and powerful man and you were merely a florist. “Maybe I can say something that’s not quite so dark,” you smiled.

Addison stared at you curiously before she shook her head. “You and your sense of humor,” she teased, drinking the rest of her glass. “But if you could shut her up, I’ll be thankful.”

Your phone dinged before you could respond, and you almost spit up the little wine you had when you saw a message from Bucky.

“Call me. Now.”

Direct. No sweet words. Oh, no.

“Is that your loverboy?” Dana wiggled her eyebrows.

“As a matter of fact it is and he’s asking for me to call him. Do you mind if…”

“Go. We’ll be right here,” Addison smiled.

Your legs felt a bit rubbery as you walked outside and took a look around to make sure no one was nearby. What if he had a bug in your phone and he heard what you said? Oh, God. You were so stupid.

Pressing his name on your phone, you let out a shaky breath when he immediately picked up. “Kotyonok, I need you to come back,” he replied, his tone stern. Upset.

You swallowed. God, he did hear you. You could convince him it was a joke, right? No one had to get hurt. “Why, what’s wrong?” you asked, your tone remarkably calm. “We aren’t done with our samples.”

“You were followed to Addison’s this morning by one of Zemo’s men. Ray and I both spotted him.” There were muffled noises in the background. “I just finished… talking to him.”

“I was followed?” you whispered, your heart sinking for a completely different reason now. The day you went out with your friends someone followed you? “What did he want?”

“I can explain more later, but he had a ‘look, but don’t touch’ order. I broke his fingers anyway.” You closed your eyes. He sounded proud of himself. “I have some business to attend to for the rest of the day and I have to go to the club after, which is why I need you back at home.”

Ray appearing behind you almost made you drop your phone. “Jesus, Ray,” you gasped, your heart nearly beating out of your chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said, briefly resting a hand on your shoulder. “Boss messaged me to bring you home.”

“Yeah, I’m talking to him right now,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “And I’m not going home right now. I'm not leaving.”

“What?” Bucky growled. He could be angry all he wanted. You didn’t care. “This isn’t something to argue about or negotiate, I need you safe and-”

“Safe? You need me to be safe?” you asked, trying to stay calm amidst the storm inside you. “Has it occurred to you that the entire reason I’m not safe is because of you? That the only reason Zemo even cares about following me is because I’m your girl?”

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know I painted the very target on your back by falling for you? I’m well aware of that fact, but I’m also the one who can keep you safe.” He sounded almost as vulnerable as he did when he talked about his mom. “So just… come home.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Home. “You know, there are a lot of dangerous people out there who have families and loved ones. And I’m sure some of them are blissfully unaware of what goes on behind the scenes, but not all of them are. Some are very well aware of what their partners do for a living because they were told what they were getting into.”

“Kotyonok-”

“But you didn’t, Bucky. You didn’t let me know what I was getting into. One look at me and you made the decision for me and sealed my fate,” you continued, looking sadly at Ray. “So while I’m thinking of you today like you wanted, I want you to think of me and that target you painted on my back and my loved ones. And think about if you really love me the way you say you do.”

“I do love you,” he breathed. It would be nice to believe that. “Come home, please, and we’ll talk when I get back from the club.”

“I’m finishing the day with my friends. Ray will stay here with me. I also need to go to my place before I go to the penthouse,” you said. If he wanted you there so badly, he could bend a bit since you were in no direct danger at the moment. “And don’t expect a happy conversation like we had this morning.”

One step forward, two steps back.

“I’ll just be happy that you’re safe,” he said, which only infuriated you more. You couldn’t make out what he ordered to someone else, but the muffled noises picked up again. “Leave in thirty minutes. The driver will drop your friends off and he’ll take you to the apartment. Ray will take you home from there.”

“Two hours,” you stated just to be stubborn.

“One hour,” he countered. “Or I’ll drive there myself.”

You huffed, but didn’t want to test him. “Fine. I’ll leave in one hour.” The girls would understand if you made some excuse.

“Thank you,” he exhaled. He really did sound relieved. “I love you. I’ll see you later this evening.”

You waited a beat. “Think about what I said.” Ray waited patiently as you hung up. “Have I told you that your boss is a pain in the ass?”

“He certainly is, but he is correct that your safety is important,” he agreed, gently stopping you before you went back inside. “If you aren’t in the limo in one hour, he will come after you.”

“I know,” you sighed. Bucky would be dramatic like that. And protective. “Someone was really following me?” you asked in a small voice. Bucky had no reason to lie unless he was trying to get you away from your friends.

Ray nodded solemnly. “It could’ve been to report your movements back to Zemo, but I’d have to ask the boss for more details since I didn’t get to interrogate him myself.”

“I do appreciate you both spotting him,” you complimented, even if Bucky violently handled it. You shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“Of course.” There was a ghost of a smile on his face. “You were wrong, you know.”

Your brows pinched. “About what?”

“Your strength. You handled that well all things considered,” he answered.

“You’re only saying that because you can’t read my mind,” you said. It was a mess. But you hadn’t broken down or cried, so that was a plus.

For a moment you thought he’d laugh, but he merely nodded to the building. “Better go join your friends before they miss you.”

“Thanks, Ray,” you whispered, putting a smile back on your face as you walked back inside and headed back to the table.

Addison held up two fingers. “You missed two more rounds of samples.”

“I guess I'll have to catch up,” you teased. “And would anyone object to leaving in an hour? Bucky’s planning a romantic evening for the two of us, and I need to stop by my apartment before I head over to his place,” you said. It was partially true. “If you all want to stay, I’ll get an uber and you can take the limo.”

“An hour’s fine.” Dana blinked a few times. “Anyone else tired? I’m a little tired.”

Gina covered her mouth when she yawned. “Yeah, I am, too.”

“I feel fine,” you said, frowning when Addison yawned, too. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, but a nap sounds good right about now,” she said, pushing her now empty glass away and checking the time. “It is kind of late. It’ll be night time when we get back.”

You stared at your own glass, dread filling your stomach. You felt perfectly fine, but they looked tired. Was it possible that someone slipped something in their drinks or food? Did Ray do something or did Bucky set something up in order to make you leave? Or were you just being paranoid?

“Is everyone okay?” you asked. It felt like too much of a coincidence that they all felt tired after you came back to the table. “Should we just leave right now?”

“I’m fine. I was just up really late last night,” Addison answered. Dana and Gina nodded in agreement.

“Maybe we should cut back on the samples and stick with water,” you suggested.

“You’ve always been the sensible one,” Dana said, resting her chin in her hand. “But can we still buy some bottles?”

“Yeah. As many as we want,” you promised. Bucky did say he’d spoil you, so why not?

Exactly one hour later, you were back in the limo with the girls and plenty of bottles. Unlike the ride over, the ride back was much quieter. You thought Addison would fall asleep on your shoulder at one point and Dana actually did fall asleep at one point for a few minutes. They somehow didn’t stumble on the way to the limo, and it would’ve impressed you if you weren’t so worried.

“Are you sure you girls are okay? Should we go to the hospital?” you asked.

“Why would we do that? We drank more at my bachelorette party than we did today. We’re fine,” Addison assured you. “You worry too much.”

You had good reason to worry. “This sounds crazy, but did you drug my friends? I need to know if I should take them to the hospital.” you messaged Bucky. If he did something to them…

He typed something back right away. “How could I possibly drug your friends when I wasn’t there? Is everyone okay?”

Did he actually care? “I’m fine, but they’re very drowsy and I’m worried.”

“Ray kept me updated and he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. None of Zemo’s men were there. I didn't do anything either. Did any of them complain that they were dizzy? Nauseous? Did anyone pass out?”

“No, but it could've been something like Benadryl to make them drowsy and get me to possibly leave faster.” Or punish you by mentioning the stalking thing, if he knew, and show you that his reach expanded beyond the city.

“That’s a very creative method to get you to leave, but lots of wine can make anyone drowsy and I have no reason to do that to your friends. I think our conversation may have scared you a bit since Zemo had someone watching you and you’re understandably worried for your friends.”

You looked around at your friends. They did drink a lot more wine than you, and drugging people didn’t seem to be Bucky’s style. Zemo’s men weren’t there. Maybe you were being paranoid and the girls really were just tired. Being part of Bucky’s circle just made you question everything.

“Okay. I’m trusting you.” You had to.

“Thank you. Your worry aside, it sounds like you girls had fun though from what I heard. Maybe the next day out can be at my club. Could be fun.”

You gasped. Did he know what Dana suggested? No, no, no. You weren’t falling down that rabbit hole, and didn’t send any texts back for the rest of the drive.

Brady and the other guys were waiting on the curb when the limo stopped at Addison’s. You were the only one who didn’t get out, but you gave each of them hugs and helped hand out the wine to their significant others. They seemed a bit more awake, so maybe they were just fine. “Love you girls. And, guys, keep an eye on them. They had quite a few samples,” you said. You’d have to text each of them later to check on them.

“Love you,” the girls echoed before the door shut.

The driver headed in the direction of your place after a minute. What were you going to say to Bucky when you saw him? Would you scream at him for putting you in danger, or would you just accept that this was your life? It was a continuous losing battle the more you fought.

The morning you had with Bucky, minus the groping, had been somewhat nice. Could it be like that all the time if you tried? Could it be better if he loosened the reins?

“Thank you,” you said when the limo stopped and the partition rolled down a few inches. “How much do I owe you?”

“Mr. Barnes took care of that, miss, but if you’ll allow me-”

“Oh, no. Please don’t get out. I got it,” you smiled, letting yourself out. You scanned the street for Ray’s car, but didn’t see it. He was likely waiting for the limo to pull away.

Two steps into your building, your phone dinged. “What now?” you muttered when you opened a text from Bucky.

“Ray got a flat tire. Stay in the limo.”

You read the message twice. A flat tire? You were about to type back to Bucky that you already left the limo when you heard a familiar voice by the elevator. “It’s about time you got back.”

You couldn’t breathe when you found a pair of blue eyes staring at you. “Clark… what are you doing here?”

Oh, I hope you lovelies are prepared for the next part. And what do we think of your friends? And were they just drowsy or did something happen? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[ctrlsht]

Beneath His Love | Jungkook Two-Shot AU (Part 1)

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 wc: 14k

Your high school years hold some of your best memories. You were young, maybe a little naïve, but you enjoyed every moment. You met friends who stuck with you through the ups and downs, creating memories that stayed with you.

Some friendships lasted, while others naturally faded over time. But out of all the people from your past, the last person you expected to return was Jeon Jungkook.

“I really want to drive you home, but I thought you might have your car with you.” He glances at you, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he bites his bottom one.

You catch the gesture, a smile of your own creeping up before you glance back at the office building.

He’s a new investor in the company you’re working for, and the funny thing is, you met him in the meeting, with no heads-up that he was the person you’d be negotiating with.

Back in high school, you would’ve called him a lost puppy; out of place, unsure. He had just moved from South Korea with his family, thrown into a world of unfamiliar faces and an unfamiliar language. He tried, really tried, but somehow, nothing ever quite fit.

He wasn’t a natural at blending in, and the harder he pushed, the more obvious it became that he just didn’t belong.

But you did. You were the one who made him feel like he could stay like he was already part of something. You made sure he never had to face the feeling of being lost alone.

“I might get embarrassed for saying this, but... I don’t have a car.” You say it so casually, you can’t help but bite the inside of your cheek to stifle a laugh. His face lights up almost instantly.

“Well, that’s good news for me, because I can drive you home.” He grins, and you can’t help but to chuckle.

Comparing him now to his high school self? It’s almost unrecognizable. From his new confidence to the way he holds himself, he’s changed. Completely. It’s hard to believe this is the same guy. But then again, you were there at the meeting. 

The one thing that hasn’t changed? The way he feels familiar. Comfortable. Even after all these years apart, that sense of ease with him hasn’t gone anywhere. 

It’s almost laughable to think back on Jungkook who once barely spoke in class, who could barely look anyone in the eye. The same Jungkook who now talks business with the Chief Finance Officer of the country’s biggest infrastructure company; and he’s an investor. An investor. You read the reports. From the looks of it, he’s about to become one of the company’s largest backers. You’re still wrapping your mind around it. What exactly does he do now?

Jungkook left after high school. No warning. No goodbye. Just... gone. You tried searching for him, trying to catch some trace of him online, but even his barely-used social media vanished. After a year of wondering what happened, you eventually gave up. Maybe that was his choice all along.

But you can’t shake the thought: Did you ever really become his friend? Did you make him feel like he belonged, like he had a place? You thought you had, but it’s hard to tell. Maybe it never felt the same to him.

And now, as he stands before you, all those unanswered questions bubble up. So many things you want to ask, but you don’t even know where to begin.

You admit that part of you feels a little hurt, like maybe your friendship meant nothing to him. But that feeling? It’s faded. You were young and confused back then. It doesn’t matter now. You know, deep down, he had his reasons for disappearing. And that’s enough for you.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N.” He says it casually, but there’s warmth behind the words. You glance at him as he drives, a small smile on his face, his attention fully on the road. You can’t help but notice how much he’s changed. It’s not just his look; it’s everything about him now. The confidence he exudes to the ease in his posture. This isn’t the same Jungkook from high school. He used to shy away from meeting your gaze for more than a few seconds, and now, you can hardly believe he’s the one offering you a ride home. Back in high school, it was you who’d offer to walk him home whenever your other friends couldn’t.

“You too,” you reply, smiling back, still watching him.

He doesn’t speak after that, and you both settle in silence as the car hums along the road. There’s something comforting about the silence. No awkwardness, no tension, just his presence beside you. It feels easy.

After a while, you break the silence. “How have you been?” The words come out before you can second-guess yourself. You didn’t want the quiet to stretch on, and this might be your only chance to check up on him.

“I’m good,” he replies, his tone flat but steady. You expected that. It’s the default answer people give when asked how they’re doing. But you were hoping for something more. Something real.

You don’t push for more. Maybe this is all he’s willing to share. But just as you're about to settle back into your thoughts, his voice breaks through.

“I missed you.”

The words hang in the air. His eyes seem far away, like he’s seeing something just beyond reach. The warmth around him has shifted, and for a moment, the easy atmosphere between you both feels heavier.

“Yeah, me too, Kook,” you say softly, offering a small smile in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I just wish you’d tell me more about how you’ve been.”

The car rolls up to your apartment building, the conversation trailing off as you prepare to get out. You almost feel like you should’ve said more, but before you can even voice your thoughts, he speaks again.

“Do you have anything to do tomorrow evening?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden question. He smirks, amused by your surprise, but before he can say anything else, you cut him off.

“None. Why?” you ask, trying to play it cool, as if you don’t know the answer.

“I was hoping to take you out for dinner, Y/N. It’s been years, and I know I owe you an apology and an explanation.”

You purse your lips, but you fight the smile, pretending to be annoyed. “Good that you know.”

He chuckles, and without another word, he steps out to open the door for you.

The dinner went exactly as planned. It’s Saturday night, and you’re still in disbelief that you’re sitting across from Jungkook after a decade, the same familiar ease between you both. The bond hasn’t shifted; it feels just like it did back then. Can that really be possible?

You never expected that, in a series of random days, you'd reconnect with your long-lost friend and pick up right where you left off, surprisingly comfortable, like no time had passed at all.

To sum up his story, Jungkook left the country a week after graduation due to family matters. He didn’t get into the details, just mentioned family and wealth, and honestly, you didn’t push for more. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here, now.

“Investing? That’s it?” you asked casually, curious about his line of work as you took a sip of your wine.

“Yeah. Why? You sound like you’re doubting me,” he said, narrowing his eyes playfully as he cut into his steak. You quickly shook your head, laughing.

“No, no— I’m not doubting you. It’s just... how do you just invest in a company? What else do you do?”

His lips twitched as if holding back a laugh before he took a bite of his steak.

“With me, it’s possible.”

It’s amazing how much had changed for him. From his fluent English to how smoothly he communicated, he had a way of speaking now; confident and clear. He knew what to talk about and when to hold back. He even went into detail about his business, explaining how he went from nothing to having it all. Apparently, he’s rich rich.

It still blows your mind. He doesn’t just invest locally, but globally, with major stakes in several countries. One of his biggest investments? A multinational tech company in the USA. You googled his name later, and the results were overwhelming; articles, interviews, and profiles. It hit you then: you had no idea.

“I saw Jungkook recently. He’s freaking rich!” you said during a video call with your high school friends on a random Friday evening.

“Oh my god, you did? I thought you knew, Y/N. He’s always in the business news!” Mina, your entrepreneur friend, exclaimed.

“Yeah, I thought you knew too, since you were close to him,” Chloe added as she applied her makeup.

“I would’ve known if you told me,” you said, sarcastically. They all laughed, including Henry, the only guy in your friend group.

They all knew Jungkook, but they were never really close to him. But you try to get them to hang out with him. It was hard, though. He never seemed to fit in with anyone else. He wasn’t exactly open to making friends outside of you.

You didn’t mind being his only friend, but there were times you wished you could hang out with your whole circle without worrying about leaving him alone. You can’t stomach seeing him being alone.

Your first dinner with him turned into another, and then another, until it reached a point where you were seeing him almost every day. Well, it makes sense. He has back-to-back meetings with the CEO and CFO, all to discuss investment deals and company performance. You were shocked when you found out he’d become one of the company’s major shareholders. But, honestly, you shouldn’t have been surprised. With his global investments, your company was just one of many he had stakes in.

You’ve sat through countless meetings with him, being the Investor Relations Analyst, but what truly catches you off guard is how he shifts between playful and serious. Outside the boardroom, he’s relaxed and fun, but the moment he steps into the business world, he’s a different beast; focused, no-nonsense, and damn good at what he does.

“I still can’t believe how different you are in the boardroom. Your 17-year-old self must be so proud,” you joked one time when he invited you over for dinner at his place. You had to add, his “place” wasn’t just any apartment. It was a goddamn penthouse, bigger than your office floor.

His penthouse is airy, with massive windows letting in all the natural light and giving a breathtaking view of the city below. The furniture is minimal; soft neutrals, a simple sofa, a coffee table, and a few essentials. But none of that matters because you can’t wrap your head around how massive his place is.

It’s your third time visiting, and you still haven’t gotten used to how much wealth he’s surrounded by. Back in high school, you knew he had a solid life, but this, this level of luxury? You never imagined it. Sure, his family’s wealth played a part, but it was his own hustle that built the wealth he’s sitting on now. He mentioned once that part of the reason he went back to Korea was for his family’s business, but he didn’t go into detail.

“You really can’t stop talking about how different I am now, can you?” he teased as he smiled, removing his coat and loosening his tie. Both of you came straight from the meeting, and here you were again, in his penthouse. You shook your head, unable to stop smiling. 

“You’ve definitely changed,” you shrugged playfully as he walked to the kitchen island to prep dinner. 

“I plan to cook kimchi stew. You mentioned that you want me to cook it again.” he said, pulling out the ingredients one by one.

“Ah, you remembered,” you smiled, feeling a bit giddy. “Do you need help?”

He flashed that smile of his, shaking his head. “Nah. You relax. Dinner’s on me.”

“I really do want to help, though,” you said, walking over to him. “You always cook for us.”

He stared at you for a moment, a soft smile tugging at his lips, before nodding and grabbing the tofu and green onions.

“Alright, fine,” he chuckled. “You can slice these.” He placed them on the counter, then grabbed an apron and slowly slipped it over your head.

Your heart started to race, feeling the warmth of his hands as they adjusted the straps around your back. You barely breathed as he tied the apron, feeling like an electric current shot through you when his hand grazed your skin.

“While you do that, I’ll prepare the kimchi,” he said, turning around with a grin before walking to the fridge.

With his back to you, as he chopped the kimchi, you were frozen. You could feel your heart hammering, and your stomach doing flips, but you couldn’t move an inch. What the hell was happening to you?

There’s this strange flutter in your stomach, something you can’t quite put into words. You don’t move, not until he finally glances back at you. You flash a quick, awkward smile, trying to shake off the odd tension before turning your focus to the tofu, hoping it’ll distract you from the feeling you can't shake.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Henry’s birthday party was in full swing at one of the biggest clubs in the city. Nothing new there. Clubbing was pretty much a tradition whenever you and your friends had extra cash to burn. The last time you went was a work event, which sucked because most of your coworkers were too old to actually enjoy the club. Tonight, though? Different story. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and you were exactly where you wanted to be; wrapped around Chloe’s shoulder, screaming lyrics at the top of your lungs.

Feeling a bit worn out, you drop into a seat, chugging your drink while mindlessly scrolling through your phone. Three messages from Jungkook. One missed call.

Jungkook: Wanna have dinner tonight? We can do it at your place since you’re fussing about me not visiting your place hahaha

Jungkook: Heyyy?

Jungkook: Oh, I didn’t know you were with your friends. Sorry to bother you.

Shit. You checked the timestamps, first message at 7 PM, second at 9 PM, and the last one just fifteen minutes ago. The missed call? Right after the second text.

How did he even know you were out? You clicked on your Instagram story. Viewed. Of course.

You quickly typed out a response, apologizing for not replying sooner.

Jungkook: No worries, Y/N 🙂

That’s when it hit you, almost everyone from high school was here, even the ones who barely talked to Henry. But Jungkook wasn’t. You scanned the crowd before glancing back at your phone, staring at his last message.

Should you feel bad? Maybe. He used to hang out with your group sometimes, but Henry was the one throwing the party. You couldn’t exactly tell him who to invite. Still, a small part of you felt guilty. Jungkook had been a part of your high school life, and it felt weird that he wasn’t here too.

“Y/N, what’s up with you? You’re spacing out,” Mina suddenly appeared beside you.

“Nothing,” you said, forcing a smile.

She peeked at your phone. “Who are you texting?”

“No one, just reading a message from Jungkook,” you answered, locking your screen. “By the way, did Henry invite everyone from high school?”

Mina shrugged. “I guess?” 

“Did he invite Jungkook?”

“I doubt it.”

“Why?”

Mina chimed in, laughing. “Girl, he’s a fucking millionaire. You really think he has time for this?”

Your jaw tightened. “You guys used to hang out with him at least once.”

She raised a brow. “Then ask Henry, not me.” She patted your back before disappearing into the crowd.

You sighed, staring at Jungkook’s last message. Maybe Mina was right. He probably didn’t care about not being invited. He had more important things to do than go clubbing with his former high school classmates. But another part of you wasn’t so sure.

Your phone buzzed again.

Jungkook: You must be having fun, leaving me on read hahaha

Oh, fuck.

You: Hahaha I’m sorry. I’m trying to sober up. What are you doing

Jungkook: You’re drunk already? Who are you going home with?

You: I’m good haha I’m going home with my friends. Let’s have dinner tomorrow.

Jungkook: How are you going home with them if they’re also drunk?

You weren’t drunk, just tipsy. But if Jungkook thought you were drunk, then maybe you’d actually get drunk trying to prove otherwise.

Jungkook: Do you want me to fetch you?

You: It’s okay, Kook. I can manage. My friends aren’t drunk. We’re fine.

No reply. You reread your messages, sipping your whiskey, assuming he’d drop it. But then—

Jungkook: I’ll go there and wait until you’re done so I can drive you home.

Your stomach did a weird flip. You don’t know what or how to feel. There are a lot of thoughts that are running in your head and you don’t know what to entertain first.

It had been almost a year since you started hanging out again, and you weren’t going to lie, you liked the way he looked after you. How he always checked in, insisted on driving you so you wouldn’t have to take the bus, how he cooked for you without you even asking. Hell, you’d eat anything he made, even dishes you normally hated. There was something about his effort, his presence, that made your heart race just a little.

And now, he was coming to pick you up.

But then there was the other part, the part where he’d be stepping into a club full of his old high school classmates who didn’t even think to invite him. It didn’t sit right with you. If he came here, would it remind him of how things used to be? Would it make him feel out of place?

There was no way in hell you were going to make him wait around for you to finish partying in a place he should’ve been invited to in the first place.

You took a deep breath and texted back:

You: Okay.

Then you locked your phone, downed the rest of your drink, and got up to rejoin your friends. Might as well enjoy the last few moments before Jungkook arrived.

“I have to go soon, Henry,” you lied. “Charlie’s home. He might wake up looking for me.” You added, using your nephew as an excuse. 

Henry frowned. “You never said you were babysitting tonight. That sucks. I’ll grab my keys and—”

You cut him off. “No need. Jungkook’s driving me home.”

Henry stopped, then smirked. “Wow. Are you dating him already? You should’ve invited him.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re the birthday boy. That was your job, not mine.”

The moment your friends heard you were leaving, they wasted no time plotting your downfall. Before you could even argue, Henry was in front of you, bottle in hand, while Chloe grabbed your head like a coach hyping up their star player, and Mina? She was already recording.

"One last shot! Well, bottle, for the road!" Henry announced, grinning like a devil.

You groaned, but resistance was pointless. The moment the bottle tilted, the cheers erupted around you. The burn hit instantly, but damn, it felt good. Who knew last-minute drinking could be this satisfying?

It only took Jungkook 15 minutes to get there. As soon as he texted that he’d arrived, you wasted no time saying your goodbyes. You didn’t really want to leave yet, but making him wait for the party to end at 6 a.m. wasn’t an option. It was barely 1 a.m., and the night was just getting started, but you weren’t about to let him stand around outside just for your sake.

Stepping out of the club, the pounding bass faded behind you, but the street was still alive with music, neon lights, and crowds spilling out of bars. It was a Saturday night, prime time for people to party, and leaving early kind of sucked.

You hadn’t even replied to Jungkook’s last message, but it wasn’t hard to spot him. He was leaning against his car, parked right in front of the club, eyes glued to his phone. Just as you were about to call out to him, your phone buzzed. His name lit up the screen.

The moment he heard the ringtone, he looked up, and when his eyes landed on you, his whole face lit up, his smile stretching wide. You laughed, shaking your head. This man.

“Did you miss me that much?” you teased, walking over.

“You weren’t answering my texts,” he shot back, grinning as he slipped his phone into his back pocket.

“I figured I’d just answer you in person,” you said with a chuckle, opening the passenger door. “Let’s go?”

“Wait, you’re actually done for the night?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah. I sobered up, and I’m not really in the mood to drink anymore, so I might as well head home,” you shrugged before sliding into the car.

“You sure? Henry might be pissed you’re leaving early,” he said, settling into the driver’s seat.

“Nah, trust me, he won’t,” you laughed, clicking your seatbelt.

Jungkook reached behind his seat and pulled out a bottle of water, twisting off the cap before handing it to you.

“Here. Drink some water. Stay hydrated.” He gave you a small smile, and for some reason, it completely threw you off. You should take the water, but your body wouldn’t budge. Your fingers twitched, and your mind screamed at you to move, but all you could do was stare, caught in the moment, caught in him.

And before you could think twice, you leaned in.

His lips met yours, warm and soft, and everything else faded. A little water spilled from the bottle onto your thigh, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was the way he felt against you, the way your heart pounded like a drum in your chest.

Your head swayed slightly, the tequila still messing with your balance, but you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or just the way his lips tasted.

Then it hit you.

Your eyes snapped open, and you jerked back, hand flying to your mouth.

“Shit—sorry—”

Before you even finished your sentence, he pulled you towards him, pressing his lips on yours. He pulled you so close, his hand wrapped around your nape, gently holding you in place, and you melted into the kiss, closing your eyes.

His lips moved against yours hungrily, and the realization sent a shiver down your spine. Your fingers found their way to his hair, gripping it lightly. 

Jungkook broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he leaned his forehead against yours. His fingers found the back of your head, his touch so gentle that it sent shivers down your spine.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he murmured, as you shook your head. 

“I should be the one saying sorry.” You chuckled a little. He smiled, rubbing your cheek gently with his thumb. 

He leaned in, his lips grazing yours before he claimed your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. It was different from the previous ones, more controlled yet passionate. His free hand moved to cup your face, his fingers tracing small circles on your cheek, and you felt your body melt into his touch.

Everything blurred together in a rush, you were in the car, and the next, the city lights flickered past as Jungkook drove in silence. It wasn’t until he pulled into a familiar parking garage that reality sank in.

You were supposed to be heading home, but instead, you found yourself in front of his apartment building. 

Maybe his place was closer to the club. It made sense.

Jungkook parked the car in the underground parking lot of his apartment building, the engine purring to a stop. You were both panting heavily, the atmosphere inside the car was filled with tension. He turned to look at you, his gaze intense and darkened with desire.

"We should go upstairs." He said softly.

As soon as the door slams shut behind them, Jungkook pulls you close, his hands gripping your hips tightly. Your bodies are pressed up against each other, and the heat between you is intense.

He kisses you hungrily, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he backs you up against the wall. Your fingers clutch at his shirt, removing the fabric in your grip as you try to bring him even closer.

Then he breaks the kiss, his breathing heavy as he leans his forehead against yours.

He took a deep breath, his fingers still gripping your hips tightly. His eyes roamed your face, taking in every detail, and his gaze fixed on your eyes.

“I like you, Y/N. Even before.” He said, almost sounding like a whisper, but it sounded so clear. 

With a swift motion, he lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist. You were surprised at the sudden movement, but he held you tightly. He carried you towards the living room, his lips finding your neck as he continued to press hot kisses on your skin.

His apartment windows stretched across the room, but the city lights outside barely reached in, leaving most of the space cloaked in shadow.

He gently placed you on the couch, his body lingers above yours, arms locking you in.

His lips found yours again, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he couldn't get enough of you. His body pressed against yours, leaving no space between you, and you could feel the heat radiating from him.

Your fingers gripped his biceps, your nails biting into his flesh as you tried to hold back the sounds threatening to escape your lips. His mouth continued to explore your neck, his kisses and gentle bites sending waves of pleasure through you.

Jungkook quickly removed your dress before pushing you back onto the couch and capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Your hands roamed freely along each other's bodies, as he trailed kisses down your neck.

You couldn’t quite piece together the exact steps you took to end up here, but damn, you weren’t complaining. Everything felt perfect, from the way he touched you to the way he spoke to you. And even as your mind wandered, wondering if you'd regret any of it later, you shoved that thought aside. For now, you were savoring every single moment.

You woke up to sunlight streaming through the window, too bright, almost blinding. You blinked a few times, trying to shake off the haze of sleep, only to realize that this wasn’t your room. You didn’t need to check to know exactly where you were. The familiar warmth beside you told you everything you needed to know.

Your gaze lingered on him. Jungkook, still asleep, lying on his stomach. Both of you were tangled under a duvet, skin against skin, the night’s events replaying in your mind. It had been unexpected, but you weren’t regretting it. Not one bit. Out of all the men in your life, he was the one who’d made you feel truly at ease during the most intimate moment.

You couldn’t stop thinking about what he said last night. His words still echoed in your ears.

“I like you, Y/N.”

You reached out, gently brushing his hair, feeling the smooth strands between your fingers. You couldn’t help but feel a little foolish for not noticing how he’d felt before, but now, it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to waste time overanalyzing his feelings.

But damn, if you had known sooner...

You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. Would you have really done things differently? Probably not. Maybe back in high school, there was nothing there. But now? With how ridiculously handsome and damn near perfect he looked? Hell, you couldn’t deny it.

Life is simple, and so is your relationship with Jungkook.

After that night, there was no overthinking, no awkward tension. You both just went with it. Dating him felt natural, almost effortless. And let’s be real, you weren’t about to let him fuck you if it wasn’t going to lead somewhere.

It still blows your mind how much things have changed in just a year. You reconnected with an old high school friend, found out he’s stupidly rich, and now? You’re dating him. 

You thought dating Jungkook wouldn’t feel much different from being his friend, but damn, you were wrong. In the best way possible.

Every morning, without fail, he texts you a sweet “good morning,” even when he’s miles away on a business trip. He brings you little gifts just because, takes you out on weekly dates, and surprises you with flowers for no reason at all. Even when he’s drowning in work, he always makes time for you, whether it’s at his place or yours. And most especially, he really knows how to make you feel good. He already knows what you love to do and what’s not. He knows when to stop and when to go on. Sometimes, he feels so perfect that you catch yourself wondering if he’s even real.

One morning, after spending the night at his place (which, at this point, is almost every night), you wake up to the soft press of his lips against your skin.

“Morning, love,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing your cheek.

You mumble a sleepy, “Morning.”

“I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He peppers kisses along your face, neck, and arms.

You groan a little, still half-asleep, but you knew this was coming. He’s heading to a business conference out of town, just for the day, but it still sucks that he’s leaving on your day off. You had already planned to head back to your own place anyway, clean up, and maybe just exist in your own space for a while.

“Mm-kay,” you mumble, trying to bury yourself back into the sheets. But Jungkook, being Jungkook, doesn’t stop kissing you, making it impossible to stay asleep. You finally cracked an eye open, shooting him an annoyed look, and making him laugh.

“You should wake up now. I made you breakfast. Eat before it gets cold,” he says, dropping a kiss on your forehead before heading toward the door. “Bye, love. I love you.”

Still groggy, you nod. “I love you too. Take care.”

Once he’s gone, you follow through with your plan, breakfast, then heading home.

The second you step inside your apartment, it’s painfully obvious you haven’t been around much. It smells like it’s been abandoned, and the state of it isn’t much better—clothes piled on your bed, untouched documents scattered across the dining table. A mess, but a familiar one.

As much as you love staying with Jungkook, there’s something comforting about being in your own space. No one to answer to, no one to accommodate, just you, doing whatever the hell you want. Jungkook has asked you to move in with him more times than you can count, but you always say no. Not because you don’t love being with him, but because you love having a place that’s yours. A space to retreat to when you just need to be alone.

The only thing you hadn’t planned for today was your friends ambushing you with an invite to go out tonight.

Your friend group never really schedules hangouts; it just sort of happens. You could go weeks, even a month, without a single message, and then, out of nowhere, someone’s in the mood for a drink or dinner, and suddenly, it’s a plan. Not everyone always makes it, of course. Life gets in the way. But when the stars align and most of you are free, you all try your best to show up.

"Come on, Y/N," Mina whined through the phone. "The last time we saw you was four months ago. And don’t even try to make excuses, you literally just said you’re at home."

You groaned, throwing yourself onto the couch. "Mina, I just spent all day cleaning. I’m exhausted."

"Then we’ll just invite ourselves over!" She laughed, knowing exactly how to push your buttons.

"What the hell, no! I’m not letting you guys trash my place after I spent the whole day making it spotless!"

"Then get dressed and come out with us!" she shot back. "Dinner and drinks. We miss you."

She wasn’t wrong. You missed them too. You’d skipped out on a lot of meet-ups lately—not intentionally, but between work and, well, spending nearly all your free time with Jungkook, your social life had definitely taken a hit. The only time you weren’t with him was when you were at the office.

So, after some back and forth, you gave in. You sent Jungkook a quick text letting him know you were heading out with your friends, though he hadn’t responded yet. He was probably still busy with his conference.

Now, almost 9 p.m., you were sitting in a pub downtown, catching up with your friends over drinks. The place was buzzing with weekend energy, and despite the last-minute plans, it felt good to be here.

“Even though I try to convince myself that we still have something left, I just don’t feel it anymore,” Chloe admitted, swirling her drink in her hand. The conversation had taken a turn toward her struggling relationship. Everyone listened intently.

“We’ve both gotten so caught up in our own responsibilities that we barely connect anymore," she continued, her voice even, like she had already made peace with it.

You studied her face, searching for some sign of heartbreak, but she just looked… tired. Maybe even indifferent.

Chloe was a fashion model, and her boyfriend was a marine engineer. Their lives had been moving in different directions for a while now. The long distance, the fading feelings, it had all been dragging on for too long.

“If you’re not happy, why stay?” Mina asked, echoing what everyone was probably thinking. "This has been going on for two years, Chloe. Maybe it’s time to let go. We’re not getting any younger."

The weight of the conversation made you pause.

It got you thinking about Jungkook. About your relationship.

You’d been with him for half a year now, and honestly, things had been good. No major problems, no doubts. Just happiness. Just him.

But how long would it stay that way?

What would your problems even be? What could you possibly fight about? Could your love for him fade the way Chloe’s did for her boyfriend?

The thought unsettled you.

Before you could get lost in it, your phone rang. The table fell silent as everyone glanced at you. You quickly grabbed it, checking the caller ID.

Jungkook.

You excused yourself and stepped outside, pressing the phone to your ear.

"Hey, Kook," you greeted softly, staring down at your feet.

“You’re out?” His voice was calm, but there was something off about it.

"I sent you a message," you said, glancing through the pub’s window at your friends. "I’m with my friends."

“I’m at your place.”

Your breath hitched. "I thought you were coming home tomorrow?"

"The conference ended at seven. I decided to drive back instead of staying overnight." His tone was flat, unreadable.

“Oh.” You fidgeted with the hem of your top.

“I came straight to your apartment, thinking you’d be there,” he added. “But you weren’t.”

You hesitated. "Mina invited us out. It was last minute, but everyone was free, so…"

"I didn’t see your message until I got here."

You weren’t sure where this was going, but before you could say anything, he spoke again.

"Are you heading home soon?" His voice was calm, but you could sense the impatience laced within it.

"I'm… not sure," you admitted, just as Henry stepped outside, lighting a cigarette. 

"Who are you talking to?" Henry asked casually.

"Jungkook," you said, turning your back to him. “I think we’ll end at ten or eleven. Depends on their mood.” You added to Jungkook.

Henry took a drag of his cigarette, chuckling. "Chloe wants to go clubbing after this. We’ll probably be out past eleven."

You shot him an annoyed look. "Move away. I don’t want to inhale your cigarette."

He just laughed, stepping back into the pub.

"I'm not sure what time this will end," you told Jungkook. "If you want, you can rest in my room. I just cleaned everything." You tried to lighten the mood, but he sighed on the other end.

“Y/N, it’s late. You should rest. You’ve had a long day.”

His voice was gentle, but something about it felt off.

"I’ll be home before eleven," you promised. "You should rest too."

“I’ll just pick you up.”

You blinked. "No, it’s fine. Henry said he’d drive me home."

Silence. Then—

“Really?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

You frowned. "What?"

“I don’t know. Just doesn’t sit right with me. The idea of you letting another man drive you home while your boyfriend is literally waiting at your place.”

You sighed, frustration creeping in. "Jungkook, it’s Henry. You know him."

"Okay then," he said, the edge in his voice sharp enough to cut. "I’ll just rest. Bye."

And then he hung up.

You stared at your phone, stunned.

The hell was that?

Jungkook was never the jealous type. He knew Henry. He knew there was nothing between you two. So why was he suddenly acting like this?

Maybe he was just exhausted. After all, he’d driven almost four hours straight after a long business trip.

Still, something about that call left you uneasy.

As soon as you stepped back inside, you grabbed your things and announced, “Jungkook’s at my place. He’s looking for me.”

Your friends exchanged glances, and their curiosity arose.

Mina gently grabbed your wrist, stopping you mid-motion. “Then let him wait. I thought he was out of town for business?”

“He went home right after,” you replied.

Henry took a slow sip of his beer before butting in. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re running off.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes. “Did you two fight?”

You shook your head a little too quickly. “I just really need to go.”

Mina arched a brow, arms crossed. “So, you’re just leaving? Again? You did the same thing last time when you said you were coming over, but surprise, Jungkook had plans, and we never saw you.” 

You flinched at her words because, well… she wasn’t wrong. You had bailed on them before, not intentionally, but it still happened.

“I know, and I apologized,” you said, voice softer now.

Mina scoffed. “Right, and now you’re ditching us again?” 

You hesitated. A part of you wanted to stay, but what was the point if your mind was already elsewhere? Jungkook was at your place, waiting. And the way he sounded earlier… something felt off. You wouldn’t be able to enjoy yourself knowing that.

“I’m sorry. I swear I’ll make it up to you,” you said, rushing to press a quick kiss on their cheeks before grabbing your things.

Henry even offered to drive you home, but you shut that down immediately. No way in hell were you making things worse.

You tried calling Jungkook and then texting, but he didn’t answer. Not even once.

Did he stay? Did he leave? Was he sleeping or ignoring you on purpose?

You had no idea. All you knew was that you needed to get home. Fast.

The moment you step inside your apartment, you don’t need any grand gestures to tell you Jungkook is here. His shoes are neatly tucked in the corner and his coat draped over the couch’s hand rest.

You opened the lights, scanning the room, but you already know where he is. Your bedroom door is closed, and something in the air tells you he’s behind it.

For a moment, you hesitate. Then, without overthinking, you twist the doorknob and step inside.

There he is.

Stretched out on your bed, sound asleep. The bed that fits you just right somehow looks too small with him in it, his presence making the room feel both full and impossibly small. A soft glow from your bedside lamp casts delicate shadows across his face, highlighting his perfect features.

You step closer and notice he’s already changed into the clothes he keeps here, a reminder of how often your space has become his, too. Whenever you choose to stay here, he chooses to stay with you.

You can feel the shift in the air before he even stirs. After watching him sleep for a few quiet moments, he moves, his eyes fluttering open and landing on you almost instantly.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" you ask softly.

He sits up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before shaking his head. "You’re back? I thought you were staying out longer." His voice is low and laced with sleep, but as he stands to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, you search his expression for any lingering annoyance. He seems calm now, so maybe whatever tension was there before has faded.

"You wanted me to come home, right?" You meet his gaze, trying to read him.

"Yeah, but if you really wanted to stay out, you didn’t have to leave early," he replies easily.

"But you wanted me home," you counter, brows slightly furrowed.

"I did. But I didn’t force you, did I? I told you I’d rest, and I did." His tone is matter-of-fact, like the answer is obvious.

"Then why did you sound so irritated? You didn’t force me, sure, but you acted like you were pissed." You pull back, doing your best to keep your voice steady.

"I'm not irritated. I'm just worried that you were out late and I wasn’t around. That’s it."

And now, his tone says otherwise.

You just stare at him, at the way his frustration lingers in the air, thick and heavy. The whole situation is fucked, and you don’t even know how to respond.

You want to be mad, but you can’t figure out if you even have a reason to be. You want to walk out, slam the door behind you, let him deal with whatever this is on his own. But you don’t move.

You just stand there. Watching. Waiting.

After a moment, he lets out a breath, his shoulders easing. When he meets your eyes again, the tension between you starts to fade.

Without another word, he steps forward, closing the space between you. His arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you in as his warmth.

His lips find your neck, brushing against it before pressing soft kisses along your skin, his grip tightens around you.

"Look, I’m sorry, Y/N," he murmurs against your skin. "I’m just tired. And when I got home, all I wanted was to see you, but you weren’t here."

Another kiss. Then another. 

That night was filled with quiet embraces and soft kisses. You let him hold you until sleep takes over, as if the tension from earlier had never existed.

A lingering thought sits at the back of your mind, something unspoken, but you push it aside, choosing to sleep it away.

By the next day, everything falls back into place. No more arguments, no tension, just the usual life of being with him in his space. You had worried that the disagreement might leave a crack, but just like you, he let it go.

You find yourself falling for him even more. Not just for the way he listens, but for how he truly understands you. For the way he always makes sure you're okay, making life with him feel effortless.

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, and with every passing moment, your love for him only deepens. It still feels surreal, to have someone like Jungkook; a man who loves you in all the right ways. A man so close to perfect, you struggle to find a single flaw. It sounds almost too good to be true, yet here you are, living it.

But perfection is an illusion. No one is truly flawless. Sometimes, love makes you see only what you want to see, painting over imperfections with rose-colored strokes. Maybe it’s because you love him so much that you’ve convinced yourself he’s perfect. Maybe, without realizing it, you’ve chosen not to notice the flaws.

You take a deep breath, eyes lingering on Chloe’s Instagram story. A picture of her, Mina, and Henry on the hiking trip you had all planned together. A trip you were supposed to be on. It had been set in since last year, but in the end, you stayed behind. Because Jungkook didn’t want you to go.

As much as you hate to admit it, it frustrates you. He had brushed it off as concern, calling it too dangerous, even though the trail was a well-known tourist spot with guides and safety measures in place. You hadn’t even asked for his permission, just informed him of your plans, but he shut it down anyway. And that sucked.

But you didn’t push. The moment you sensed his growing irritation, you backed off, not wanting to turn it into something bigger.

“It’s okay, love. We’ll plan a hiking trip together. I just don’t want you going without me, I’d go insane worrying about you,” Is the only thing he says before he showers you with kisses.

To be fair, he did follow through. A week after your friends went, he took you on your own hiking trip, just the two of you. It wasn’t the same trail, but the effort was there, and you genuinely appreciated it. Still, no matter how much you tried to shake it, a part of you couldn’t ignore the longing in your chest, the part that wished you had gone with them.

It was a Tuesday afternoon in the thick of summer when your phone buzzed with a call from your father. He was asking you to come home for his birthday dinner. Of course, you hadn’t forgotten his special day, but the invitation itself was unexpected.

Your dad never really made a big deal out of his birthday. It was usually just him, your mom, and sometimes the kids—your sister's son and daughter. Sure, you’d been home to celebrate milestone birthdays like his 50th and 55th, but now he was only turning 57, and you were curious why he suddenly wanted you home for dinner.

The train ride would take two hours, but that wasn’t the issue. It was the thought of telling Jungkook. You hadn’t introduced him to your family yet, despite dating for a whole year. You wanted to, of course, but this was not the right time now that Jungkook was out of the country for business.

You really wanted to visit your dad for his birthday, but you weren’t sure if Jungkook would let you. 

Yeah, it sounds kind of messed up, but he’s been getting stricter about where you go, especially if it’s somewhere he’s not with you. They might suggest, "Why not just invite him?" But, of course, he’s out of the country right now, so that’s not even an option.

You thought about not telling him at all, but you knew you’d feel guilty. And if you were being honest, he’d find out eventually, somehow. He always did.

So, you decided to bite the bullet and just let him know you were heading home to celebrate with your dad. You sent a quick message, figuring it was easier than calling, especially since he was probably busy. Plus, you honestly didn’t want to deal with his reaction over the phone.

But, of course, he called you right after the message was sent.

“Yes, Kook?” You answered, nervously biting your nails.

“You said you’re going home for your dad’s birthday?” He asked, his voice laced with uncertainty as you tried to figure out his mood.

“Yeah, he called me out of nowhere for dinner tonight.” You replied, absentmindedly playing with your lips, hoping the casual tone would ease the tension.

“How are you getting there? I’ll be home tomorrow evening.”

“It’s fine. Just a train ride, nothing to worry about.”

You wanted to reassure him in a single breath; that you’d be fine, that it was safe, and if it got late, you could always stay overnight. But for some reason, the words wouldn’t come.

“Can’t you just go over the weekend? We could go together. You have work tomorrow anyway.” His voice held that familiar, persuasive tone, trying to talk you out of it.

“Today’s his birthday, and he asked me to be there.”

You wished you had more energy to push back, to explain how important it was to you, but honestly, if he didn’t want you to go, then whatever.

“Okay.”

His response caught you off guard, almost so much that you didn’t hear it at first.

“What?”

“You can go. It’s your dad’s birthday. I just want you to take care of yourself on the ride, okay?”

You paused, not quite believing what you were hearing. No argument? No complaints? You almost wondered if he was playing some mind game, letting you go without any resistance.

“Love, it’s your father. Of course, I’ll let you go. Sure, I’m worried about your safety, but I don’t want you to miss his birthday.”

You felt a mix of relief and confusion. So, you excitedly planned the trip, knowing you’d make it home to see your dad. You even considered staying over if it got too late, just to catch the first train back in the morning.

It had been years since you last saw your parents, the last visit being when they came to the city for a doctor’s appointment and to check up on you, of course.

Before heading home, you stopped by a few shops to pick out gifts—not just for your dad, but for the whole family. A little something for your mom, your sister, and of course, the biggest gifts went to your niece and nephew. You missed them, and choosing things that reminded you of them felt like a small way to show it.

The train ride was uneventful, quieter than usual, probably because it was just an ordinary weekday. As soon as you arrived, you were met with warm hugs and excited voices. You handed out the gifts—clothes, perfume, and a wristwatch for the adults, and toys for the little ones.

“I don’t even remember the last time I saw you!” your sister, Alice, said as you all gathered around the dining table.

You laughed, reaching for a serving of food. “I know. Last time I saw you, you weren’t this fit. Damn, what are you even taking?” you teased, watching her roll her eyes.

“Y/N, how have you been? How’s work?” your dad asked, cutting into his steak. Then, with a teasing smirk, he added, “I heard you’ve got a boyfriend now.”

Your mom chuckled, clearly amused.

“Work’s been good! Actually, I just got promoted and got a salary increase,” you said with a proud grin.

“Well, duh. That’s because your boyfriend is literally one of the major stakeholders,” Alice said, raising a knowing eyebrow while taking a bite of her food.

She wasn’t wrong. Even though she lived far away, you always kept in touch, and out of everyone, she was the one who knew the most about your relationship.

“Wow, he sounds like a big deal. Why didn’t you bring him?” your mom asked with a smile.

“He’s in France for a business trip,” you replied simply.

Half of the dinner conversation revolved around Jungkook. It felt good to talk about him, to say his name out loud in a space where you didn’t have to think too much about anything else. It reminded you why you loved him, why you chose to be with him. You usually only talked about him with Alice or Chloe. Mina and Henry, on the other hand, weren’t as eager to hear about him.

You knew why. They thought you had changed, that you’d become distant since you started dating Jungkook. And, well… they weren’t entirely wrong. You weren’t as available as you used to be. It wasn’t always because of Jungkook, but if you were being honest, a lot of the time, it was. Either you already had plans with him, or he just didn’t want you to go.

Sometimes, you wondered if that was normal. But every time the thought crossed your mind, you brushed it off before it could linger too long. Overthinking would only stress you out, and honestly, it was easier to just let it go.

As the evening passed, you felt completely at ease surrounded by your family. It had been so long since you’d had the chance to truly relax and catch up with everyone. Alice, living just a few blocks away, always stayed in the town with her husband while you ventured to the city. She had no need to move away, especially since her husband worked while she stayed home with the kids. You were happy for them, but you also missed these moments of simple, unhurried connection.

You were lounging on the couch when Alice walked in from the kitchen, holding her phone. She raised an eyebrow at you as she approached.

“Why aren’t you checking your phone? Jungkook called me, asking about you. He said you’ve been ignoring his calls.”

Oh shit.

Your stomach dropped. You’d completely forgotten about your phone. You scrambled off the couch, rushing to grab your bag from the dining room.

You pulled your phone out, and sure enough, Jungkook’s name flashed on the screen. Without wasting a second, you picked up the call.

“Love,” you said, your voice faltering just a little.

“Where the hell are you?” His voice was harsh, and instantly your heart started pounding.

You blinked, taken aback by his tone. “I’m at my parents’ house,” you said, trying to keep it calm.

“Then why the hell are you not answering your phone? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours! You didn’t even let me know if you made it there safely!” His words were sharp.

You winced at the force in his voice but tried to explain, “I’m sorry, I didn’t have time—”

“And what the fuck was that story you posted? You’re not at your parents’ house.” 

What the fuck?

Your stomach flipped. “What are you talking about? I’m with my parents. You even spoke to my sister, didn’t you?”

“I’m not stupid, Y/N. I know what you’re doing. God knows how you and she planned this to make me think you’re at your parents.”

The words hit you like a slap. Your breath caught in your throat.

Then it hit you. Your Instagram story. It was a story you reposted from Mina six hours ago, with Chloe and Henry. It was a photo from last week, but Mina had just posted it, and you thought it was cute enough to share.

“That was from last week, Jungkook,” you said, your voice ice-cold.

“Oh yeah? And how the hell are you gonna prove that? You’ve ignored me all night!” His voice had grown louder, angrier.

“Are you serious?! If I were doing something behind your back, I wouldn’t leave a damn trace!” you snapped, the frustration bubbling over.

“And when have I ever lied to you, huh?!” Your voice shook with anger. “Even when I know you won’t let me go, I still ask permission from you, like I’m some damn kid! I don’t have to do that, but I still do it because I love you!”

There was a pause, thick with tension, and you could hear his harsh breathing on the other end. After a beat, he spoke again, colder than before.

“Prove it. Prove it to me, Y/N.” He said, provoking you.

You could feel your chest tightening, the anger in you rising. “I’m not proving anything to you, Jeon,” you hissed, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.

You hung up without saying anything else, your fingers shaking as you looked at the screen. Leaning against the wall, you took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. You couldn’t believe what had just happened. The anger was there, but it was the growing unease that made your heart beat faster.

Before you can even process what just happened, your phone starts ringing again. His name flashes on the screen, but you don’t hesitate; you shut it off and shove it into your bag. 

Alice steps into the kitchen, her eyes scanning your face with concern. “What was that?” she asks, gently rubbing your back.

You straighten up, hands on your hips, exhaling as you stare at the ceiling. Before you can answer, Alice’s phone buzzes in her hand. She holds it up, showing you the screen. Your stomach twists at the familiar number. Unregistered, but you already know exactly who it is.

“Block him, Alice,” you say, your voice firm. Without hesitation, she does.

“What happened? We heard you arguing with him,” she asks, her voice low.

With your frustration, you pull out a chair at the dining table and sink into it, burying your face in your hands. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering anger. “The audacity to call me a liar,” you mutter.

You’ve always listened to him. Let him have a say in your decisions. Let him decide when and where you can go. Let him tell you what’s best. You’ve given him control over so much of your life, and yet he still finds a reason to doubt you.

How messed up is that?

He didn’t even stop to talk things through. Just jumped straight to accusations. No hesitation, no second-guessing; just straight-up assuming the worst.

And the worst part? It’s your dad’s birthday. Instead of enjoying the night with your family, you’re sitting here, fuming over an argument that never should’ve happened in the first place. Over words, you never thought he’d say.

But maybe… maybe this is your fault too.

If you had just let him know when you arrived. If you had updated him like he always asks. If you hadn’t reposted that stupid story from Mina; one that, to him, made it look like you weren’t where you said you’d be.

And the worst thing? He doesn’t even know you actually did see them that day. It was just a quick visit to Mina’s apartment, barely an hour. Not a big deal. Not something worth mentioning.

Still, even if you messed up, does that really justify him doubting you like this? Assuming the worst without even asking?

You know you’re not perfect, but you also know one thing for sure; you would never do what he’s accusing you of. Not in a million years.

You decided to spend the night at your parents’ house. Even Alice stayed, not wanting to leave you alone with your thoughts. Going back to your place, where silence would only make things worse, wasn’t an option. At least here, you had distractions; family, conversation, anything to keep your mind from spiraling.

Before everything with Jungkook happened, you had planned to catch the earliest trip home so you could make it to work. But after that argument, there was no way. The idea of facing a normal day felt impossible. You sent in a sick leave request instead.

Alice slid a glass of beer toward you, watching as you picked it up. “Are you living with him now?” she asked, her tone casual but laced with curiosity.

You rolled your eyes before taking a sip. “I told you not to bring him up.”

“I’m just asking. You always say you barely sleep at your own place.”

She had a point. And she had also convinced you to drink with her, claiming it’d help lighten your mood. You weren’t exactly feeling up for it, but she was persistent, and since you weren’t going to work tomorrow, so you figured, why not?

“I stay at his place a lot, but I still go home whenever I want.”

Alice snorted. “That’s literally just living together, but with extra steps.”

“It’s not if I still have my own apartment.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” She smirked, then grabbed her phone, scrolling for a song. As music filled the space, she glanced at you again. “You know, from what you’ve told me, he seems nice. But still… be careful. No matter how long you’ve been with someone, you never really know them.”

She wasn’t wrong.

It had only been two years since you reconnected with Jungkook. It felt like a long time, but was it enough to really know who he was?

Now that you thought about it, there was a lot you didn’t know.

His job? You knew he dealt with big companies, something about stakeholders, but the details were always vague.

His family? He never talked about them.

His past? Barely mentioned.

Even something as big as whether he planned to stay here or go back to Korea, he never really said. And you never pushed, assuming he’d tell you when he was ready.

But still… you couldn’t help but wonder.

You woke up with a headache; not from drinking too much, just from barely sleeping. You had tossed and turned all night, your thoughts refusing to let you rest. And now, after barely two hours of sleep, you were already awake.

Staying in bed was tempting, but lying there only meant giving your mind more time to replay last night’s argument. So, with a deep sigh, you forced yourself up and headed downstairs for breakfast.

Before you even reached the dining hall, you heard voices—loud, cheerful conversation. Strange. It wasn’t just your family. Maybe some neighbors had stopped by, or a distant relative had come for your dad’s birthday.

But no.

Because sitting at the dining table, grinning like he belonged there, was Jungkook.

Your mom’s face lit up when she saw you. “Y/N, you’re finally awake! Look who’s here!” She gestured for you to sit, her excitement completely unbothered by the fact that you had a massive argument with him just hours ago.

Jungkook met your gaze with a warm smile as if nothing had happened.

“He came early this morning to pick you up for work,” your mom continued. “But Alice told him you were taking the day off.”

Your dad chuckled, clapping Jungkook on the back. “Straight from France, Y/N! We thought you were just making excuses not to bring him over, but here he is!”

Jungkook only laughed at that, completely at ease.

You, on the other hand, said nothing. You were still irritated, but you couldn’t deny the shock of seeing him here. He told you he wouldn’t be back until tonight, yet here he was, casually having breakfast with your family like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And they liked him. A lot.

The conversation kept flowing, and from the way everyone talked to him, it was clear they’d already warmed up to him. This wasn’t exactly how you imagined introducing him to your family, but at least you skipped the awkward “Hey, Mom and Dad, this is my boyfriend” speech.

Alice shot you a knowing smirk. “Alright, we’ll get going and let you two talk,” she said, winking as she stood up.

You shot her a glare, but she only grinned.

They excused themselves, leaving just you and Jungkook in the dining hall.

He sat across from you, a cup of coffee in front of him, while you quietly ate your breakfast, letting him stare. You weren’t in the mood to break the silence first.

“You turned off your phone.” His voice was steady, but there was something behind it. Something tight.

You lifted your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “Obviously.”

“You had me worried.” His expression turned serious, waiting for you to respond. But you didn’t. You let the silence stretch between you, taking another bite of your bread.

Jungkook sighed. “Look, Y/N. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to lash out at you last night. I just... I panicked when you didn’t answer my calls or messages. And then I saw your Instagram story with your friends, and I—”

He reached for your hand resting on the table, his fingers wrapping around yours. His eyes softened, pleading.

Damn it.

He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing slow kisses against your palm, his fingers playing with yours. You stayed quiet, watching him, feeling the warmth of his lips against your skin.

“I know I messed up,” he murmured between kisses. “That’s why I’m here, love. I’m really sorry.”

And just like that, your irritation wavered.

The frustration, the anger, the late-night overthinking. It all started slipping away.

With just a kiss on your palm, your resolve crumbled.

With just the fact that he flew back early to fix things, all the things that had you upset suddenly didn’t feel that heavy anymore.

He slowly let go of your hand, reaching for something beside him. Your breath hitched the moment you saw it, a bouquet of pink carnations, wrapped in soft lime green and peach paper.

Jungkook stood up, moving to sit beside you, placing the bouquet in your hands. You blinked, caught off guard, struggling to find the right words.

“I was supposed to leave later this afternoon,” he admitted, voice low, “but I couldn’t stand leaving things unresolved. And when I couldn’t reach you... I just couldn’t let it happen.”

Being loved by Jeon Jungkook feels damn good.

From the way he puts in effort to how he always finds ways to make you happy. From his care to his unwavering support, being in love with him feels easy; effortless. Of course, you won’t deny that his looks and wealth are nice perks, but those are just extras. What truly matters is how he loves you, how he makes you feel secure in his own way.

So, without hesitation, you let the issue slide.

You never really planned to stay mad at him for long. You just needed a little space, a moment to process everything. But that became impossible the second he flew across countries just to fix things with you. And if you were being honest, the argument happened because you ignored his calls and then reposted Mina’s story without thinking.

You ended up staying at your parents' house until after lunch. Not because you wanted to, but because your parents weren’t ready to let Jungkook go just yet. They really seemed to like him. The way he talked to them so comfortably, how they got his humor, how he charmed them effortlessly. They were practically keeping him hostage with their endless questions and stories.

Not that you based your love life on your parents’ approval, but it was nice to see them get along better than you expected. Jungkook wasn’t hard to like. Maybe back in high school, when he was more reserved, but now? Now, as a grown man with a business mindset, he knew how to win people over.

Well… except for your friends.

To be fair, they barely knew him. Most of their interactions were limited to the quick moments when he’d pick you up after you hung out with them.

Life with him has been good. No major arguments, no real problems. At least, not as long as you kept him updated on your whereabouts. He did the same for you, but you made it a point to let him know what was happening in your life, especially when he wasn’t around.

Because that’s all he really wanted.

For you to check in, to let him know you were okay. You understood that; it was how he made sure you were safe.

But there were moments when you wished he didn’t care so much.

Specifically, when you wanted to hang out with your friends.

That was the only real issue between you. His tendency to limit who you spent time with especially if they weren’t your high school friends.

And when you sensed that pushing too hard would only lead to an argument, you backed down. You let it go.

Because at the end of the day, you knew he just wanted to protect you.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

But sometimes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it didn’t really make sense.

Hanging out with your friends has always been part of your routine, it’s your way to unwind, to reset. They lift you up in a way no one else can. Of course, Jungkook does too, but it’s different when you’re with them. There’s a freedom to it, a lightness that you don’t get anywhere else.

“Love, please? I can’t miss Chloe’s party. It’s her farewell before she leaves for America.”

You tried to reason with Jungkook, hoping he’d understand. Chloe was chasing her dream, heading off to model for luxury brands, and this was the last time you’d all be together before she left.

“I’m allowing you, but I have to fetch you by midnight. You already know I don’t like it when you sleep somewhere else without me.”

His voice was calm but firm as he drove, one hand resting casually on the wheel. He had just picked you up from work when you decided to bring it up. You figured telling him now would be better than waiting until later.

“Love, this is the last time we’ll all be together. Come on.”

You reached over, resting your hand on his lap as you pleaded softly.

He glanced down for half a second, then back at the road, his expression unreadable.

“I’ve said my conditions, Y/N.”

Final. No room for negotiation.

Frustration simmered inside you. No matter how much you tried to understand him, this part of him never made sense.

Why does he always do this? Why does he insist on controlling when and where you can be with your own friends? People who were in your life long before he was?

You told yourself, again and again, that he was just trying to protect you. But from what?

These were your childhood friends. You had never been in danger with them, not once.

But, like always, you didn’t push. You let him have his way, let him hold the reins like he always did.

The party was at a club, nothing crazy, and afterward, everyone was supposed to crash at a hotel Chloe had booked nearby. She wanted to savor the last moments with you all before she left.

But, as always, you were going to miss out.

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll see you at midnight. I love you.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling away, walking back to his car, and driving off.

You were irritated, but you swallowed it down, not wanting to ruin the night. This was Chloe’s farewell party, the last time you’d all be together before she left and you weren’t about to let your frustration with Jungkook take over.

The party was packed. Chloe had invited everyone. Her high school circle friends, her college buddies, coworkers, even a few relatives. The energy was buzzing, the music loud, the drinks flowing. It was fun… or at least, it should’ve been. If only Jungkook hadn’t already soured your mood.

You did your best to act normal, plastering on smiles, laughing when expected, but Mina wasn’t buying it. She never did.

“You okay, Y/N?” she asked as you stepped outside with her while she had a smoke. You didn’t smoke, never had, but the fresh air seemed like a good idea.

“Yeah, of course!” you answered a little too enthusiastically.

Mina gave you a look before taking a slow drag of her cigarette.

“That’s the fakest answer I’ve ever heard from you,” she said flatly, exhaling a stream of smoke.

You forced out a laugh.

“Even your laugh sounds fake. Gosh, Y/N. Try harder.”

“Fuck you,” you shot back playfully, nudging her with your shoulder.

She smirked but didn’t drop it. “Seriously, what’s up? You haven’t looked okay since you got here. Did something happen?”

You hesitated. You never talked about your issues with Jungkook to your friends. Hell, you barely talked about him at all. It wasn’t just because they had… opinions about him. You just weren’t the type to discuss your relationship with others. When things got tough, you preferred to handle it on your own.

But tonight, you wanted to tell her. Just this once. Just so someone knew how you really felt.

But the words wouldn’t come.

“Just tired,” you said instead. “Had a lot of work to deal with before I left the office.”

Mina gave you a side-eye, clearly not convinced. “Mmm-hmm. That sucks,” she said, but her tone was laced with suspicion.

A beat passed before she asked, “By the way, how’s Jungkook? You never talk about him.”

That caught you off guard. Was she just curious, or did she sense something?

“He’s doing great. He drove me here. He’ll, uh… pick me up later too,” you say, trying to sound casual, trying to make it seem like no big deal.

But it was a big deal. And somehow, without meaning to, you’d just handed Mina the entire fucking truth without actually saying it.

Her brows shot up. “What the hell do you mean? You’re not coming with us after the party?”

You blink, caught completely off guard. You knew you’d have to break it to them eventually, but you hadn’t figured out how yet. And now, thanks to your own damn words, you were trapped.

“Didn’t we talk about this?” Mina pressed, her voice rising. “You said you were coming. Now you’re telling me Jungkook’s picking you up?”

“I—I mean, yeah, but—”

“He didn’t allow you, did he?”

“It’s not like that. I was supposed to come with you guys after the party, but I just… decided it’s not a good idea considering my state,” you say, blurting out whatever excuse comes to mind without even thinking.

Mina scoffs, raising a brow. “Oh, really? And you also decided it was a good idea not to tell us you’re ditching?”

“No! It’s not like—”

Before you can even finish, Henry walks in.

“Hey, what’s taking you two so long? Chloe’s looking for you. She wants to take a picture,” he says, approaching the both of you.

Neither you nor Mina say a word. But while Henry looks between you two in confusion, Mina keeps her gaze locked on you, practically daring you to explain.

“What’s going on?” Henry finally asks, his eyes flicking between the two of you.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?” Mina says flatly, tossing her cigarette to the ground and stomping it out.

You ignore the tension tightening around your chest. “Let’s go inside. Chloe’s waiting,” you mumble, turning to leave.

But before you can take five steps, Mina’s voice cuts through the air, laced with sarcasm.

“Make sure to tell her you’re ditching us  again after this, yeah?”

“What do you mean?” Henry asks, still completely clueless.

You glance back, trying to come up with something, anything to say, but your throat tightens. Instead of answering, you turn and walk away.

You swallow hard, holding your breath, forcing back the burn in your eyes. You try not to think. Not about Mina, not about the truth she’s circling, not about the weight pressing down on you.

Just breathe. Keep it together.

You’re almost at your seat when Chloe suddenly appears beside you, her bright smile and glassy eyes making it clear she’s a few drinks in.

“Babe! I was looking for you everywhere!” she exclaims, giggling. “Where’s Henry and Mina?”

“They’re outside,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “They’ll be here in a sec.”

But even in her tipsy state, Chloe picks up on the shift in your energy. Her smile fades, replaced by a concerned frown.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” she asks softly.

The moment the words leave her lips, your eyes start to burn.

Shit.

“I’m okay, Chloe! I just need to go to the restroom for a second,” you rush out, spinning on your heels before she can press any further.

She calls after you, but you don’t stop. You weave through the crowd, head down, feet moving on autopilot. The second you reach the restroom, you lock the door behind you and let everything crash down at once.

It’s harder than you thought.

You want to tell them everything. God, you’re so fucking tired of pretending. But at the same time, you want to protect Jungkook. You know exactly how they’d see him if you told the truth. Maybe they already do. Maybe you’re the one who refuses to acknowledge it.

You press your hands against the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror. The music pounds outside. People are drinking, dancing, and celebrating. And yet, you’re here. Stuck.

You don’t recognize the girl staring back at you.

When did this happen?

How did you get here?

You thought you could handle it—handle the way Jungkook loves you. But now, standing here, wiping at the tears spilling down your cheeks, you realize something you’ve been pushing away for too long.

You’re suffocating.

The sudden knock at the door jolts you back to reality. Panic kicks in. You swipe at your tears, straighten your clothes, and force a deep breath.

“Just a second!” you call out, turning to the sink to splash cold water on your face. The knocking doesn’t stop. It gets louder, harder—urgent. But whoever’s on the other side isn’t saying a word.

Your hands shake as you dry your face. You pull yourself together as best as you can before unlocking the door, bracing yourself.

The second it swings open, you freeze.

Chloe, Mina, and Henry stand there, staring at you.

Chloe steps forward first, her drunken haze from earlier completely gone. “Y/N, what happened?” she asks, concern heavy in her voice.

You open your mouth to answer, but before you can get a word out, Mina moves in. Without warning, she grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the bathroom.

“Hey! Mina, careful!” Henry hisses, but she doesn’t let go.

Her grip is tight, but that’s not what stuns you, it’s the fire in her eyes.

The second you’re outside, away from the pounding music and the haze of the bar, she finally releases you. Then she turns, glaring at you with full force.

“No time for bullshit. Tell us what the fuck is going on,” she demands, arms crossed.

“The fuck, Mina? Can you chill?” Henry groans, rubbing his temples.

Mina whips around to face him. “How the fuck am I supposed to chill when she’s doing this again?! We’ve talked about this before, Henry and it’s so fucking obvious she’s doing it on purpose! For what? Her asshole boyfriend?”

“Mina!” Chloe snaps, but Mina doesn’t back down.

“What? Are you really going to sit here and act like this is okay? This is the last night we have together before you  leave, Chloe, and she’s pulling this shit again!” Her voice rises in frustration.

You barely register the words. Your chest is tight. Your throat feels like it’s closing up. You don’t even realize the tears are falling until you taste salt on your lips.

“Tell me, Y/N. Are you really sick, or is that just another excuse so you don’t have to come with us? Because you’re so obsessed with your boyfriend that you can’t even spare a single fucking night for your best friend?”

It’s too much.

“I wanted to come, okay?!” The words burst out of you. “I almost begged him to let me stay for just one fucking night, but he wouldn’t let me!”

Your voice cracks, and the tears come faster. You can’t stop them. You don’t even try.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry that I let this happen! It’s all my fucking fault because I didn’t want to fight with him! I didn’t want him to be disappointed! I didn’t want to make it an issue!”

As the words spill out, the truth crashes into you like a truck. How fucking pathetic. How small you’ve made yourself for him.

Chloe speaks up, her voice soft but steady. “Why would he be disappointed?”

“I don’t know!” you cry out, frustration pouring out of you. “Because he doesn’t want me to, and if I do, it’s a fucking problem! And I just—” Your voice breaks again. You drag your hands through your hair, gripping it hard like you’re trying to hold yourself together.

“I don’t fucking want that, okay? I know you all think I’m stupid as hell right now, but that’s the fucking truth! Call me obsessed, call me whatever the fuck you want, because it’s true!”

Your heart is racing. Your breath is coming in short, sharp gasps.

“I’m so fucking stupid, but I chose this. And I wanted to apologize for ruining this night, for making this about me when it was supposed to be for Chloe.”

Your back hits the cold wall behind you, and you close your eyes, gripping your hair, willing yourself to disappear.

Silence.

No one says a word.

You don’t have to look up to know they’re all staring at you.

Your head is pounding, your heart’s racing, and regret hits you like a brick wall. You didn’t mean to let it all spill out like that, but fuck, you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Goddamn it.

Your eyes flick down to your wrist. It’s ten minutes to eleven. You don’t have your phone, but you already know what’s waiting for you: missed calls, unread messages, or worse… he’s already here, looking for you.

“I should go. Jungkook’s probably—” your voice is tired, drained.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“I’m not letting you walk away again. And I’m sure as hell not letting that asshole control your fucking life.” Mina’s voice is sharp, unwavering.

“No. I’ll figure this out, okay? I'll talk to you—”

“Are you seriously letting him take over your whole fucking life?” She looks at you like she doesn’t even recognize you anymore. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Mina, chill.” Henry grips her arm, but his eyes soften when they land on you. “Y/N, listen. We’ll figure this out. We’ll help you.”

“What are you talking about? I can handle this—”

Chloe pulls you in, arms locking around you in a trembling, desperate hug. She holds on like she’s afraid you’ll slip away if she lets go.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” her voice cracks, and your chest tightens. “I’m sorry this is happening to you, and we didn’t even notice.”

The words cut deep, deeper than you expect. And before you can stop them, the tears come rushing back, spilling over like a dam finally breaking.

“We didn’t know… I’m sorry.”

With just one hug, the weight you’ve been carrying shifts. Crushing, yet somehow lighter at the same time.

With just one hug, the exhaustion seeps into your bones, making you realize how much you’ve been running on empty.

With just one hug, it finally sinks in. This isn’t just overwhelming. It’s unbearable.

“We were supposed to be there for you,” Chloe whispers through her own tears. “But where were we?”

And that’s when it hits you. You’re not alone. You don’t have to be. For the first time in a long time, you feel like you can breathe.

But then, regret creeps in.

“What exactly happened?” Henry asks.

You step back from Chloe, swallowing hard. “Nothing really happened.”

“Y/N, please,” Mina sighs, voice weary. “Just stop defending him for once.”

And then, you see him.

A familiar figure standing in the distance, phone in hand, scanning the crowd with a panicked expression.

Jungkook.

The second his eyes land on you, he moves. Fast. Almost running.

Part 1 of 2 It's been a year since I last wrote, and I thought I wouldn’t come back and would just be a casual reader. But here I am, writing again anyway, lmao.

[bratbarzal]

you said i could send multiple requests and you wouldn’t block me

could you do roommate (or neighbour) nico with ³⁾ “i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.”

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

“i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.” with neighbour!nico!!!!! bc of course neighbour nico joins your boozy galentines, wears pink fluffy cowboy hats and sings horrific karaoke duets with you. why wouldn't he? not to toot my own horn (again) but beep beep this is a dream that I have had since lunch and I am not giving up on it now.

“I’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything I need to know about how your date went.”

You're locking up your apartment when Nico emerges from the elevator down the hall, shoulders slumped and face downcast as he trudges over to his door.

You'd seen him when you got home from work, earlier - dressed in a dinner jacket, hair all styled, shirt tucked neat - and he had told you he had a date. On Valentines Day.

And yeah, your heart had pretty much plummeted to the very core of the earth, but at the very least, you got to see him looking so good - a vision to store in your memory bank for a rainy day, when you're thinking too hard about how close he is, just across the hall, but so far away, only being your neighbour, and all.

And that was only an hour ago. Just enough time to get ready, yourself. Hair curled all nice, makeup done - the sexiest outfit you could possibly throw together, because it's girls night, and you deserve to feel your best.

A good date doesn't last an hour. Doesn't end up with a guy slumping home, hair all mussed from running his hands through it, jacket slung over his arm and his heart crushed into pieces.

"Got stood up," he huffs, reaching into his pocket for his keys, "Said she didn't realise I was a hockey player, and didn't think I had the brain cells to hold a serious, thoughtful conversation for a few hours."

"Ouch," you frown, feeling anger more than pity - because, wow, what a bitch!

"You look nice, though," he throws out the compliment almost as an aside, but you can tell by the way his eyes linger that he means it - fixated on the spot where your skirt ends and meets bare thigh. You're probably gonna freeze, but you're going to get some great pictures for your Hinge profile, so does it really matter? "Didn't realise you had plans."

"Going out with the girls," you tell him, "Galentines, 'cause we're all single this year."

He nods, his gaze trailing back up your body until your eyes meet, torturously slow, only enhanced by the darkened colour of his irises. "Have a good night."

"You should come," you tell him without thinking better of it - hypnotised by the low, sexy tone of his voice. It goes straight through you - almost takes control of you like a puppet on a string.

"I'm not a gal," he frowns, although he makes no move to go into his apartment.

"You're single, though," you shrug, "I don't think they'll be too fussy on the criteria once we get a few drinks in."

"Are you sure your friends won't mind?" he asks, eyebrow wiggling and head tilting in the adorable way it so often does.

You press your lips together as if you're rethinking it, casting your eyes slowly down his figure - broad shoulders, big arms practically bulging through his shirt, slacks clinging to his thick thighs for dear life. Your friends will have the time of their lives with this.

"Considering a night out only won the vote for what to do by fine margins, I think they'll be okay with it." You smile, knowingly, nodding toward the elevator, "C'mon, we don't want to be late."

"I don't get what that means, what came second?"

"Magic Mike." You smirk as you walk backwards, reaching to press the button and laughing when his jaw drops. "You take your shirt off later and we'll be golden."

The poor guy has no idea what he's in for.

--

Your girlfriends don't mind when you and Nico meet them at the bar, not once you've introduced him - his name not ringing a bell until you mention he's from the apartment next door, and you see the flash of recognition wash through them almost like cascading dominoes, knocking each other over one by one.

They don't know him as Nico, he's much more fondly referred to in your group chat as sexy neighbour, after all.

You've only been telling them about him for the past 18 months you've lived across the hall - regaling them with stories of bulging muscles carrying grocery bags for you, compression shirts sticking to him when he comes back from the gym, and the one time the fire alarm went off in summer, and he hadn't thought to put a shirt on when you met out the back of the building.

Yeah, sexy neighbour is pretty much a celebrity in your friend group.

They welcome him with open arms, and the night evolves, as they so often do in your friend group, in highly chaotic fashion.

It starts with a round of shots, because of course it does. The bar is rowdy, the music loud, and those tiny little glasses of you-don't-even-want-to-know-what loosen lips all around. Nico picks up on the dynamic of your group pretty quickly, shifting the shyness he had walked into the establishment with and charming them all with that same dimpled smile he got you hooked on the day you met.

Shots turn into drinking games - chugging cocktails, taking on dares, spilling secrets, and you learn so much about Nico that you would never have known otherwise, so much that you would never have had the guts to ask.

Drinking turns to dancing, which starts in a crowd on the floor, bodies all smushed together, and ends up on tables, Nico by your side the whole time, hooking an arm around your waist so that you don't fall.

You end up bar-hopping to an extent, the second place you go being a little quieter, and you're all way too drunk to stay, so you end up at the karaoke joint further down the street.

Your friends all pick the girls night classics, Man I Feel Like A Woman, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun and there's even a full dance intermission for three of your friends to perform Single Ladies.

You all end up adorning fluffy pink cowgirl hats from god knows where, fluffy feather boas slung from your shoulders, and Nico is suddenly grabbing your hand, dragging you on stage, and handing you a mic before you're fully aware what's going on.

But by then you're too drunk to care, belting What Makes You Beautiful at the top of your lungs with him, still conscious enough to blush when he directs the lyrics towards you - as out of key and awful as they may sound.

And you don't know what happens between that and ending up at the club, bass thumping in your ears, blood pumping, skin sweating, and your back is pressed against his chest. You can still see flashes of feathers in your peripheral, your friends close by, but you can't really focus on anything else.

Anything other than the heat of Mr Sexy Neighbour, himself, flush against you, one of his hands holding yours to keep you steady, the other in the dip of your waist, and his breath warm on your bare neck. You lean into him more than you probably should - more than the sober you of tomorrow will be comfortable with, when you're bumping into him again and unable to look into those pretty eyes - and he leans in right back, nose at the junction where your jaw and ear meets, lips flush against your skin, where you hear him mutter, "I should get you home."

You nod, because what are you supposed to do, speak? With him looking at you like that?

Fat chance of that happening.

And he takes your hand in a firm, clammy grip, doing the rounds between those friends that still remain - the ones he hasn't had a chance to personally see off into a cab - telling them to text him if they need help getting home, and to text you when they eventually make it there.

He guides you practically the whole way home - helps bundle you into the back of a cab, buckling you in for safety and sitting in the middle, where you can lean on him with a heavy head, and your hand in his the whole way.

He throws an arm around you to help you stumble your way through the lobby of your apartment building, holding you up in the elevator and pressing the button for your shared floor. And then he props you up beside your front door, taking your keys from your purse and unlocking the door for you as you watch him with a tired but focused gaze.

God, you want him.

Is the world really so cruel that he would never want you back?

When he finally tries the right key and pushes the door open, he looks over at you, a heated gaze assessing if you're fit enough to send in on your own, and you imagine it's the way you blink slowly at him that tells him you're not.

You were just admiring him, really - your buzz wearing off, and the stumbles added for dramatic effect so that he wouldn't stop touching you - but he doesn't need to know that.

He makes a come here motion with grabby hands, and you practically launch yourself back into his arms, him accepting you with an amused smile as he walks you into your apartment, throwing your purse onto your counter and leaving your keys on the side.

You tug a little to steer him down the hall - in the direction of your bedroom, because if he's gonna play white knight, he may as well go the whole way.

"I had fun tonight," you tell him once he's dropped you off onto the safety of your bed, the bouncing motion only making you slightly dizzy again as you watch him stand before you, hands on his hips. "I don't want to say I'm glad you got stood up, but-,"

"I had fun, too." He tells you, dark eyes landing straight on yours as he slowly lowers, dropping to his knees in front of you and reaching for your leg. He starts unzipping your boots for you, and you watch him with what you can only assume are hearts in your eyes, a slow, dreamy sigh wracking through you.

"Wish I got to see you with your shirt off."

He laughs, in a way that makes his eyes crinkle in the corners and his shoulders shake - genuine amusement flooding through him as he looks back up at you, the angle straight up sinful and sobering.

He holds your other leg behind the knee, large hand warm against your bare skin, and slides your other boot teasingly slow - your gazes locked for the whole manoeuvre - his hand following down your leg until he discards both boots to the side.

He stays down there, kneeling in front of you, staring up at you with the prettiest eyes you've ever seen - a flush to his cheeks and a million thoughts racing through his brain.

You lean forward before you can think, and he meets you half-way in a kiss that's slow - sensual and pressured, firm and assuring - the taste of tequila on his tongue as it swipes against yours, which no doubt tastes the same.

He's the first to pull back, but it isn't all the way - just until your lips smack apart, his nose still pressed to yours as he avoids your chasing with a big grin.

"You're drunk."

"Don't care, wanna kiss you." You just about manage to catch him before he pulls back again.

"Not like this."

And then the touch of him is gone, the bump of his nose and the press of his forehead to yours disappearing in a way that makes you pout.

The way he kisses you again is quick - too quick to react, really - before he retreats again.

"You know where to knock when you're sober."

You let out a groan as you watch him leave, unashamedly watching his ass as he goes, eyes still lingering when he stops at your door and catches you with a knowing smirk.

"Happy Valentines Day, sexy neighbour."

[00valentina-writes00]

please please put the self harm fic back up, it was really good, and as someone who’s struggled before, it brought me some comfort. i really wish people just didn’t interact with things they don’t like, it’s appropriately tagged, and it’s not hurting anyone. i genuinely didn’t see anything wrong with it

You know what. Yeah I will. Here you go mamas <3

♡♥︎Grayson and Sevika catching you in a self harm relapse♥︎♡ (reuploaded)

Warnings: self-harm, mental health struggles, depression, angst, cutting, blood, sensitive topics

Disclaimer: This post isn’t meant to offend anyone (I already deleted it once), and I don’t recommend reading it if you’re not in a good place/can’t handle it. I wrote this because some people find comfort in reading things like this, and just because you don’t want to read it doesn’t mean you have to ruin it for everyone. Please just don’t interact/read the post if you don’t like it. For those who do read it and find comfort in it, I hope things get better for you. It sucks being in a place where you mind is your worst enemy, and my heart goes out to all of you.

♡Grayson♡

The weight of the silence in the house feels like a tangible thing—thick and suffocating. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, not really seeing anything. The quiet hum of the air purifier and the faint creaking of the old floorboards are the only sounds breaking the stillness.

It’s hard to pinpoint when the darkness started creeping back in, but it’s here, and it feels heavier than ever. There’s a weight on your chest, as if something is sitting there, pressing you down until you can’t breathe.

You feel it—how the world looks like it’s slipping through your fingers, how you can’t keep your head above water. The struggle is so exhausting. You can feel the tears building, the tightness in your throat as they fight to spill over, but you swallow them down. You can’t burden her with it.

Not now. Not when she’s already dealing with so much.

Grayson’s voice echoes in your mind, the soft yet firm way she always tells you, “If you need anything, you just ask. Don’t shut me out.” But asking for help feels impossible when it feels like you’re crumbling from the inside out. You know she means it when she says it, and you know that deep down, she’ll always be there for you. She has been.

But she’s been working late recently. You know the weight of her job—how demanding it is. How much responsibility she carries on her shoulders, always so composed, so calm. She’s always the one who carries others, the one who stays steady when everything else feels like it’s about to fall apart.

And yet, here you are, falling apart in the silence of your own mind.

You press your hand to your arm, feeling the familiar pull of that dark urge. It’s like a quiet whisper, promising you release, promising relief. You know it won’t fix anything—it never does. But for just a moment, the thought of it feels comforting. Control, a semblance of control, over a mind that is spiraling.

The sharp sting of a blade against skin is an old friend, one that promises to quiet the storm in your head, if only for a little while.

You grab the razor blade from the drawer by the bedside table, your hand shaking as you press the cool metal against your skin.

The moment it cuts into you, it’s like the world finally exhales. The pain is sharp, but it’s also grounding. It’s familiar. The blood wells up beneath the surface, the warmth of it seeping through your fingers as you press harder. The relief is fleeting but enough to keep you from drowning, at least for a little while.

You exhale shakily, closing your eyes as the tears finally come, hot and uncontrollable.

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell yourself you’re better than this. It doesn’t matter how many promises you’ve made to Grayson that you’re okay. You’re not. You never are, and right now, the world is too loud, too chaotic, and all you want is for it to stop.

When you hear the door creak open, your heart skips a beat. Grayson’s home.

You panic for a moment, suddenly aware of the blood on your fingers, the rawness of your own skin. You want to hide it, to pull away from her, to bury it and pretend that everything is fine.

But it’s too late. She’s already stepped into the room.

Her gaze locks onto you immediately, and you see the shift in her expression—a flicker of concern, followed by something else, something darker. Her eyes move to your hand, still clutched around the razor, then slowly trail up to your face, where the tears are still streaming down.

“Baby…” Her voice is low, filled with a quiet kind of devastation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. The words are trapped somewhere deep inside, stuck behind the lump in your throat. Grayson is across the room in an instant, her long strides making quick work of the distance.

She kneels down in front of you, gently taking your hand with the blade in it, pulling it away from your skin, and tossing it onto the bedside table. She holds you, and it feels like the weight of the world has shifted, the tension in your chest finally starting to ease. Her arms wrap around you, pulling you to her, as she presses her face into your hair, murmuring soft words of comfort that you can barely hear over the rush of blood in your ears.

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into her, the warmth of her body and the scent of her cologne grounding you in a way nothing else does. Her arms tighten around you as she pulls you closer, as if trying to protect you from the storm inside your own mind.

“You don’t have to hide this from me,” Grayson says, her voice a mixture of pain and resolve. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

You can hear the underlying frustration in her tone, the helplessness that has started to creep in. She’s used to being in control, used to being the one who takes care of everyone else. But right now, she can’t fix this. She can’t make it go away. And that hurts her, you can see it in the way her brow furrows, in the way her hand gently caresses your arm as she inspects the damage.

Her fingertips brush against the cuts on your skin, and you flinch, not from pain, but from the guilt that rises in your chest. You can see it in her eyes—she’s not angry. She’s not disappointed. But she’s scared, and that’s almost worse than anything else.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “I just… I didn’t want to bother you with this. You have enough on your plate.”

Grayson’s grip tightens around you, pulling you closer, her voice soft but unwavering. “You’re never a bother. You’re my wife, and I love you. You’re never a burden.”

You bury your face into her shoulder, the tears coming faster now, as everything you’ve been holding inside comes crashing to the surface. The guilt, the shame, the weight of it all—everything that you’ve kept hidden from her, from yourself, spills out in a flood of emotion that feels impossible to stop.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I can’t stop. I can’t stop it. It’s too much, Grayson.”

“I know,” she murmurs, her hands gently smoothing over your back, offering comfort in the only way she knows how. “I know, baby. I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Her words are like a balm to the rawness inside you, but the emptiness lingers. You feel lost, adrift in the dark waters of your own mind, and nothing seems to anchor you. Not even Grayson, though you know she’d do anything to keep you safe.

But you don’t know how to be safe anymore. You don’t know how to feel okay when everything inside you feels broken.

Grayson doesn’t say anything for a while, just holding you tightly, letting you cry, letting the storm rage inside you until there’s nothing left to say.

You eventually feel her fingers gently tracing over your arms, inspecting the cuts more carefully now. The gentle touch sends a shiver through your body, and you can’t help but wince, both from the pain of your wounds and the fear that she’ll look at you with disgust.

But when you look up, her face is soft, her eyes filled with nothing but love and concern. There’s no judgment in her gaze, only a quiet understanding that cuts through the fog in your mind.

“You’re not broken,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re not broken. You’re just hurting. And I’m here. We’re going to get through this together.”

Her words sink in, the weight of them settling on your heart like a gentle, steadying force.

You don’t have to fix yourself. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

Grayson will help you piece yourself back together, just as she always has.

♡Sevika♡

The quiet hum of the city’s underbelly surrounds you, but all you can hear is the pulse of your own heartbeat, the rhythmic rush of blood beneath your skin. Your breathing is shallow, erratic, barely keeping pace with the thoughts that whirl through your head, drowning everything in a familiar numbness. Every inch of you feels heavy—like the weight of the world is bearing down on your chest, leaving you gasping for air.

You’ve been here before. Staring down at your own hands, watching them tremble as they hold a blade. The same blade you’ve used countless times to try to carve out the pain, to silence the screams in your head. You think you’re past this—think that maybe you’ve come far enough, healed enough, but the reality is… you never really can outrun the shadows that lurk behind you.

Sevika’s voice still lingers in your mind, distant yet comforting. The low, gravelly tone that usually manages to settle your nerves is nowhere to be found. She’s been busy, off with Silco’s business. There’s always something. Something that pulls her away from you, and each time, the void in your chest grows a little larger. The silence between you two stretches thinner, and you start to wonder if you’re just another weight—something she has to carry, but doesn’t truly need. Maybe you were just a brief moment of comfort for her, something to fill the empty space in her own broken heart.

It’s pathetic, you think.

Your gaze flickers to the blade in your hand—sharp, gleaming, a perfect reflection of everything you’ve been trying to avoid. With a shaky breath, you press it to the skin of your arm, not sure what to expect, but desperate for release.

The first slice is almost too easy, like the blade already knows where to go, knows exactly how to break you. You hiss, biting back a gasp. The rush of blood that spills out is both soothing and terrifying, pooling around your wrist and dripping onto the floor. It feels like you’ve just cracked open a dam, and there’s no stopping the flood.

But you can’t stop. You need to feel it. The rush. The pain. The way it takes everything away, leaves you empty but somehow full at the same time. It’s familiar, comforting, like a twisted lover.

But this time, it’s different.

The bleeding doesn’t stop.

Your breath catches, the room beginning to spin as the crimson liquid flows freely, quicker than you can manage. Your vision blurs as the pulse of panic rushes through you. You try to hold pressure, but it doesn’t work. You try to stop it, but it’s like the blood has a mind of its own, pouring faster than you can keep up.

Why won’t it stop?

The panic sets in, clawing at your chest, a grip of cold fear tightening around your ribs. You try to move, to find something to hold against the wound, but your hands are trembling too violently, your fingers slick with blood. The room feels smaller, darker, and all at once, you feel the walls closing in. Every breath is a struggle, and every thought feels like a weight you can’t bear.

And then—footsteps.

Sevika.

Her voice, low and dangerous, cuts through the haze of panic. “What the hell is going on here?”

You don’t have time to answer before she’s in front of you, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the sight of you, the blood dripping from your arm, the panic in your eyes. You want to say something, to apologize, but the words are tangled in your throat, a mass of guilt and shame. Her presence, usually so reassuring, now feels like an inescapable force, suffocating you with its intensity.

She doesn’t need to speak, her gaze enough to make you shrink back. But she doesn’t leave. She’s here. And that alone is enough to send a wave of emotion crashing over you—relief mixed with guilt, pain, and that overwhelming, gnawing feeling of needing something you can’t quite define.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but it’s like your body betrays you, unable to form a coherent thought.

Sevika’s gaze shifts to the blade in your hand, and for a moment, there’s nothing but silence between you two. Her jaw tightens, and her lips press into a thin line. But then her hands move, strong and steady, like the storm in her eyes isn’t enough to tear her apart. She takes your wrist with a force that makes you flinch, her fingers like iron bands around your arm, yet there’s no malice in her touch. Only a quiet fury—one that’s familiar to her, but so unlike you.

She doesn’t shout. She doesn’t ask you why. Instead, she moves quickly, her voice calm but filled with that hard edge of discipline. “Give me the fucking blade.”

You hesitate, feeling the cold, sharp steel pressing against your skin. For a moment, you wonder if this is it—if she’s finally tired of you. If this is where the weight of your brokenness makes her snap.

But instead of anger, you see something different in her eyes. Something sharp and raw. Something that looks like pain.

You don’t argue as she pries the blade from your trembling fingers. Her gaze never leaves you as she takes it, her lips pressed into a hard line. You can’t tell if she’s angry or worried, but you feel like you’re drowning in her gaze. In the silence between you two, the blood that still flows from your arm, the tightness in your chest, the burning shame—you feel it all. The weight of your struggle is too much for one person to bear, even if that person is Sevika.

She’s too quiet, too still, for too long. And you can’t take it.

“I—I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice cracked and fragile. “I didn’t mean to… to make you worry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Sevika doesn’t respond right away, her face unreadable as she carefully presses a cloth against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. The way her fingers move so methodically, the precision of her touch—it makes you feel like you’re falling apart even more.

“You didn’t want to make me worry?” she says, her voice quieter than usual, a soft growl of frustration in her words. “Then why the hell are you doing this to yourself?”

You shake your head, biting back the tears that threaten to spill over. You don’t have an answer. You never really did. It’s always been a struggle, hasn’t it? One that you fight alone, because nobody could possibly understand. Not her. Not anyone.

But Sevika doesn’t need answers. She doesn’t need you to explain yourself, not right now. All she needs is to fix this. To stop you from bleeding out.

When she’s sure the bleeding has slowed, Sevika pulls you close, her strong arms wrapping around you. It’s the first time in what feels like forever that she’s not pushing you away. She holds you tightly, her breath steady against your ear, and for a moment, you forget about the cuts on your skin, the mess you’ve made of yourself, the guilt that weighs you down.

She doesn’t say anything for a long time. Her grip tightens around you, the warmth of her body seeping into yours. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she speaks, her voice low and rough.

“Don’t do this again.”

You nod, feeling a sob rise in your chest. You want to tell her you’ll be okay, that you won’t fall back into the darkness. But you don’t know if you can promise that. And for the first time in a long while, you let the tears fall, not because you’re weak, but because you don’t have to hide from her anymore.

Sevika’s not going anywhere. She never has been, not really. Even if she can’t fix everything, even if she doesn’t have all the answers—she’s here.

[th-citizen-matriarchy]

TEXT CORRECTION, TO MAKE IT WORK IN THE NEW ERA OF MATRIARCHY: How can I express my opinion to my (man) FEMALE in a polite manner without being insubmissive? I know now, at least for me, that what comes to mind when I take some time to meditate on what I need to do to become THE best house husband I can be, one thing I think I could constantly improve is my manner.

Specifically, expressing my opinion without appearing rude and insubmissive to my wife, or even ruining my appearance as a docile (lady) LITTLE MAN.

I grew up in a house where you had to be loud, rude, and abrasive to be heard.

It's hard to unlearn habits like that, especially when most of the world considers it an UNAcceptable personality trait. But when you're focused on being a good and holy househusband, submission is vital! So let's talk about when it's okay to speak up, when you should bite your tongue, and how to do it correctly.

As a woman and a traditional housewife, AS A LITTLE GUY AND A GOOD TRADITIONAL HOUSEHUSBAND, you need to realize that 98% of the time your (man) FEMALE is only doing what's best for you and you need to bite your tongue. I know I have a hard time doing this myself, so not only do I practice how to respond politely in situations where I would do something TOTALLY different, but I also practice hiding my feelings behind a sweet and docile smile, PUTTING MY HANDS BEHIND AND CATCHING MY FINGER UNTIL IT HURTS, but what if your (man) MANLY WIFE is doing something totally wrong? What if it's really horrible? (LIKE BURPING) How do I know if I should speak up or not? You should only speak up if…

IF SHE, He is going to hurt you, himself or others physically, emotionally, mentally or financially.

IF SHE, He is forcing you to break strong beliefs that you have. (LIKE NOT WEARING PANTS ANYMORE)

IF SHE, It is unwanted physical advances that you are not ready for or do not want at the moment. (LIKE LAYING ON TOP OF YOU OR PRESSING YOUR LIPS TOO HARD)

If none of the above applies to you, then you have nothing to worry about. You should smile and bow your head with a soft "Yes, honey" I LOVE YOU. MANLY WOMEN (men) were put on earth to be strong and kind leaders in the home.

LET THEM BE, LIKE THAT, It is their duty to lead and their responsibility to serve. If your STRONG FEMALE (man)'s decision applies to ANY of the three situations mentioned above, follow these guidelines for remaining submissive when questioning your authority, and if they persist (especially if they apply to 1 or 3), call an abuse hotline and get out of there. But if they don't apply, here are the guidelines for remaining submissive when expressing your ideas.

LISTEN TO HER, SHUT UP until she's done. SIT PROPERLY, YOU SHOULD BE polite and respectful, and listening to her will show that you are still submissive despite having a different opinion.

Don't yell!! DON'T RAISE YOUR VOICE! I can't stress this enough!!! Don't yell, don't interrupt him, don't talk over him, don't even talk as loud as him!! PUSH YOUR LIPS! KEEP YOUR HANDS TOGETHER ON YOUR LEGS AND CLOSE THEM, DON'T EXPRESS ANYTHING WITH YOUR LIPS, DON'T MAKE GRIMACE!

YOU AS A SUBMISSIVE MAN, Keep your face under control. DON'T BLAME HIM WITH BAD GESTURES, Make sure you don't roll your eyes or make irritated facial expressions or gestures, as that will automatically make everything you say disrespectful, even if you agree with him. SHE WILL IMMEDIATELY DISQUALIFY YOU, A KIND SMILE WILL MAKE YOU ACCEPTABLE TO HER. KEEP YOUR SHOULDERS BACK AND SMILE. EVEN IF SHE DOESN'T LIKE WHAT YOU HEAR.

WHEN SHE ALLOWS YOU TO TALK, Speak to her kindly and with a docile posture. WITHOUT RAISING YOUR VOICE, WITH A KIND AND CALM TONE, TRYING TO MAINTAIN THE TONE OF A FRAGILE CHILD, Do not cross your arms, OR YOUR LEGS, do not be abrupt or sharp with him, do not tilt your hips. None of that. KEEP YOUR HANDS TOGETHER AND CALM ON YOUR DRESS.

And number 5, THE MOST important of all…

HER WORD, WHATEVER SHE SAID, IS HER WORD, PERIOD! If she does not give in, agree with her and do it! It is not that bad and he is just trying to do what is best FOR YOU AND YOUR CHILDREN. Let the MANLY FEMALES be WOMEN and let THEM lead! They are the head of the family and you are there IN THE BACK to support HER! SUPPORT HER BY KEEPING QUIET! DOING SILENTLY WHAT YOU ARE TOLD!

I hope this helps you as much as it helped me! NOT TO BE MISTREATED AND IGNORED, Thank you for reading and I hope you are lucky enough to have a happy home and a clean kitchen!

How do I politely express my opinion to my man without being unsubmissive?

Now I know, at least for me, what comes to mind when I take time to meditate on what I need to do to become the best home maker that I can one thing I believe that I could constantly be improving on is my mannerisms. Specifically voicing my option without appearing rude and unsubmissive to my husband, or even ruining my docile lady like front. I was raised in a house hold where you had to be loud and rude and abrasive in order to even be heard. It’s hard to unlearn habits like that, especially when most of the world considers that to be an ok personality trait! But when focousing on being a good and holy housewife submission is vital!! So let’s talk about when it’s ok to express your opinion, when to hold your tongue and how to do it properly.

As a traditional woman and housewife you should realize that 98% of the time your man is just doing what is best for you and you should hold your tongue. I know I have a hard time doing this so I practice not only how to respond politely in situations where I would do something TOTALLY different but I practice hiding my feelings behind a sweet and docile smile too, but what if your man is doing something totally wrong? What if it is truly horrid? How do I tell if I should speak up or not? You should only speak up if…..

1. It is going to harm you, himself or others physically, emotionally, mentally, or financially.

2. If it’s forcing you to break steadfast beliefs that you have.

3. If it is physically unwanted advancements that your not ready for or do not want at the time.

If it does not apply to any of the above then you have nothing to worry about. You should smile and bow your head with a soft “Yes dear.” Men were put on earth to be the strong leaders kind leaders of the house hold, LET THEM BE THAT!! It is his duty to lead and your responsibility to serve! If your mans decision applies to ANY of the three situations listed above follow these guidelines to remain submissive in questioning his authority and if they persist (especially if they apply to 1 or 3) call an abuse hotline and get out of there. But if they don’t apply here are the guidelines to remain submissive when voicing your ideas.

1. Listen to him until he is done. It is polite and respectful and listening to him will show that your still subservient despite having a different opinion.

2. Don’t yell!!!! I can’t stress this enough!!! Don’t yell don’t interrupt him don’t talk over him don’t even talk as loud as he was!!!!

3. Keep your face in check. Be sure your not doing any eye rolling or making any irritated gestures or facial expressions, that will automatically make whatever you say disrespectful even if your agreeing with him.

4. Speak to him kindly with docile posture. Don’t cross your arms do not be snippy and short with him don’t cock your hip out. None of that.

And number 5 THE MOST important one of all..

5. HIS WORD IS FINAL!!! If he is not budging then agree with him and do it!! It’s not that bad and he is just trying to do what is best! Let men be men and let them lead! They are the head of the household you are there to support him!! SUPPORT HIM!!!!

I hope that helps you guys out as much as it helps me out! Thank you for reading and I hope you are blessed with a happy house and clean kitchen!

[toysrguts]

Thanos (player 230) NSFW Alphabet

thank u guys for the love on my dae-ho post now i feel obligated to post my thanos ABCs cuz he literally consumes my brain like a parasite!!! also excuse poor grammar i threw this together in google docs in one night

18+ content below the cut!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

aftercare is not his strong suit but it's still oddly comforting. he’ll usually light up a joint for you 2 to smoke while laying together watching tv. he usually dozes off first while running his fingers through your hair even though he promises to stay up for you

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

huge boobie lover no matter what size he just loves sucking on em and also has an infatuation with necks and grabbing them. he loves having his hand around your neck, he doesnt even have to be choking you he just loves how submissive and powerless you look under his grip (he does like choking tho ofc). as far as himself goes though idk he's kinda obsessed with himself so he doesn't usually think about just one body part but maybe his hands. or dick..

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

loves filling your throat with cum, when you're going down on him and hes about to finish he makes sure to hold your head down until you swallow every last drop and are left gasping for breath

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

secretly loves when you take control every now and then, sometimes being the boss is too much work. especially loves it when you take charge unexpectedly like straddling him or grabbing him by his necklace and pulling him in for a kiss

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

really cocky and for good reason, his body count is kind of insane and he definitely knows what hes doing. he hits all the right spots and when he hears you moan in pleasure he’ll only go harder and faster.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

kind of unexpected but LOVES when you're on top and making eye contact. he likes guiding your hips as you ride him and thrusting into you from underneath if he senses you getting tired. doggy style is a close second cuz he loves pulling your hair

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

its really hot how he can be primal but lighthearted at the same time. he's serious about the intimacy and making you feel good, but he's also really cocky and will smirk like an annoying slut while absolutely manhandling you cuz he knows what it does to you

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i think he's gotten comments in the past so he started regularly shaving down there 💀 he's got just the right amount of hair

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he seems like the kind of guy who just wants to get in your pants and ditch but in the moment hes actually surprisingly gentle with you. if your hair gets in the way he’ll tuck it behind your ear, he'll place his hand under your head while viciously pounding you, he’ll ask if everything feels right for you before continuing. also makes a lot of close eye contact and whispers in your ear about how good you feel (if he's high however..... thats a whole different story he turns into an ANIMAL)

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

usually doesnt need to jerk off but if nobody is there to help him out he's forced to rub one out on his own, and he definitely watches porn to help get the job done. i just know he looks so hot doing it too he throws his head back and bites his lip n shit. and he groans when he cums fs

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

hair pulling and pain. craves the feeling of your nails clawing at his back and gripping his hair while going at it. inflicting pain turns him on as well but would never do anything out of your comfort zone. but he does like seeing you marked up after a good time. also HEAVILY into choking like if you're spending the night with him you should just expect to get choked out. he also might've accidentally caused you to pass out a few times but that's neither here nor there!!

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

lowkey an exhibitionist, he will fuck you any time he feels horny and he doesn't care who hears or sees. any location is his favorite but something about doing it in a public bathroom stall fuels him

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

it turns him on when you match his cocky and bold energy, like if he starts dirty talking and you say something even nastier he cant help but pop a stiffy. also likes when you get touchy with him all he can think about is getting alone with you so he can put his hands all over you

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

probably wouldnt like to be tied up, he prefers to be the one in control where that's concerned

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

so good with his tongue you'd think he has multiple. it drives him crazy when he can feel you grab his hair and writhe underneath him from all the pleasure. he will make you cum twice just from using his fingers before anything else even happens and it fuels his ego like crazy. also no surprise that he loves when you sit on his face and let him go to town

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he starts nice and slow to get you going but as soon as he hears you enjoying yourself he picks up the pace. but if he pops a pill first he will just fuck you as fast and rough as possible and can go all night long

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

probably wouldn't survive without a good quickie, he can touch himself all he wants but it's usually not enough for him. if he's horny he doesn't care where you are he’ll fuck you right then and there and act all nonchalant about it afterwards

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's down to try anything at least once even if he knows he probably wouldn't enjoy it. especially if you're enthusiastic about trying something new he will follow your every command

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

when he's high he can go for as many rounds as your heart desires. he can also last a good while, like 10-15 minutes every round, its especially satisfying to him when you have orgasms together

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he definitely has a small toy collection but theyre only really needed on special occasion if things get repetitive. he also has one for himself that he uses when he's extra desperate

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he can be such an asshole but he loves to see you beg for him to let you cum. when your breathing gets heavier and you grow louder that's when he slows down and teases you until you're begging and pleading to cum, and when you finally do he will praise the fuck out of you; “that's my good boy/girl.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

tries to stay quiet and collected but it usually ends up slipping out in a loud groan. other times he just doesnt gaf and will let out aggressive breathy growls in your ear

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

it's honestly a guilty pleasure for him when you use some teeth when sucking him off. something about the pain drives him crazy in a good way

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

hes not packing anything crazy or super intimidating, but it's definitely big enough to get the job done and done WELL. around 6.5 inches with a cute curve ^___^

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

REAALLYYY fucking horny like all the fucking time idk how he acts like such a gentlemen half the time. gets needy and sexually frustrated if he hasn't fucked in a while but when he finally does itll be the best you've ever had he’ll be so rough while also kissing you all over

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

acts like he's not affected or tired at all but he passes tf out so fast. he’ll talk you up and praise you for how good u were and run his hands through your hair and then conks out like 2 seconds later. usually doesn't end up cleaning up or showering immediately he just waits til he wakes up

[holy-obsession-batman]

UDRH but Nightwing is trying to 1) hide that he’s still Renegade 2) babysit Rose Wilson

Quick recap for those who don’t know what I’m talking about, after some very bad no good events happening to Nightwing in Blüdhaven, Slade Wilson aka Deathstroke offers Dick a deal to make the city neutral, free of both superheroes and supervillains. In exchange, Dick is to help train Deathstroke’s daughter, Rose aka the second Ravager.

However, Dick ends breaking the deal, turning Rose against her father and to the heroic side. Slade gets his revenge some time later by literally wiping Blud’ off the map via nuclear bombing — and that bit happens right at the same time as the events of Under the Hood. Now. What if Dick didn’t break his deal with Slade, and is still being Renegade, Deathstroke associate and Ravager’s tutor when UDRH happens?

Imagine Nightwing coming to Gotham to help with the Red Hood situation, except he’s got Rose on tow, because that was the only way Slade let him go: taking part in or at least watching a bat operation will be a meaningful experience for her. (Also dad-ing really doesn’t come naturally to this dude and he really, really need a brat-free vacation least he ends up snaping and eviscerating her)

The Bats have NO IDEA what Dick has been up to since Blockbuster’s death 8 months ago.

Feats:

Dick still too chicken to explain his last 8 months to Batman (Blockbuster’sdeath-Tarantula-jail-joiningthemob-Slade’sdeal), doing a bad job of dodging everyone’s question about why the fuck he was MIA for huit months

Tries (and fail) to hide Rose’s whole existence from the bats, ends up panicking and blurting out that she’s his sidekick (then has to pay her to play along)

the good, old, linear buildup in tension in the Red Hood investigation for the dramatic confrontation with Batman gets kinda thrown off as both the Batfam AND Jason keep getting distracted by the bits they learn about Nightwing’s MIA months

They all find out different bits separately

Babs thinks Rose is Dick’s new girlfriend and Rose gleefully plays into it. Actually angst topic because this is Tarantula trigger for Dick.

Red Hood watches in amusement Dick’s utter failure at damage control with Rose ‘Father, I crave violence’ Wilson ("No, you don’t get to gut the goons!"), finds it funny and goads her on.

Rose and Jason feed on each other’s menace gremlin energy and everyone suffer through ten times the drama. (The combined chaos is the only reason Dick manages to dodge the bat-inquiries for as long as he does)

"Are- are they—oh god, they’re flirting—"

If I were to do it character by character:

Dick: too chicken, desperately tries to believe he can dodge everything and just leave again

Rose: spends her unending feral energy in equal part on making Dick’s life a living hell and enthusiastically flirting with him, (he’s gentleman-ing the hell outa dodge). Match with Jason in freak, daddy issues, blood craving, secret longing for love, mental age, edginess and terrible flirting skill.

Bruce: hasn’t had access to his emotional support Dick Grayson for nearly a year, his communication skill has regressed to inarticulate. Distressed Fussing Hovering Brooding. He’s trying to investigate what happened to Nightwing but at the same is afraid to cross some boundary and have him go to ground again so he’s holding back a lot.

Babs: awkward mixed feelings between worry for Dick and the ex-girlfriend package of bitterness and suspicion. Suspects that Rose is Dick’s latest love interest.

Jason: in all his freshly-bathed Red Hood glory, at peak angst potential. Still a chaos gremlin who finds Nightwing’s hardships with the Ravager hilarious, and eggs her on. Also still concerned curious about wtf got to Nightwing, and trying unsuccessfully to investigate. Match with Rose in freak, daddy issues, blood craving, secret longing for love, mental age, edginess and terrible flirting skill.

Tim: has just spent the last few months with the Titans under violent attacks of Joey Wilson. Subsequently not impressed with Red Hood’s attempt in Titan Tower, also very up to date on Wilson family lore.

Also this proposed fic ends with everyone and their mother father getting their asses kicked by Cass—as it should be.

Bonus: dialogue snippets

(Masterlist)

[moon-ttokki-x]

Hi ttokki!! I love the way you write the members being soft and caring for reader :) wanted to request 9th member where she is similar age to chan, so noona to most of the guys, being maybe like his second in command in caring for everyone, cooking, teaching choreo and stuff. Where they realise she's not been taking good care of herself for a while, like skipping meals or sleep bc she feels responsible like she doesnt deserve it. Just soft and gently, you are so skilled at that

hiyo~ thank you sm, love. i liked this request, i tend to do the same for people around me and it's easy to forget yourself sometimes >< hope this hits the spot . . .

rest easy - ot8!skz x exhausted!reader

pairing: ot8!skz x exhausted noona!reader

summary: taking care of skz can be a lot of work, but you tend to forget yourself in the process...

genre: lil bit angsty, idol!au, tired minho with a headache, overexcited skz (what's new), mentions of skipping meals, slight mention of blood (a small injury), mentions of overwork, fatigue, and exhaustion, mentions of food and eating, sulky maknaes, slight allude to reader x chan

a/n: reader pretty much replaces minho for the role of skz mom (sorry min), divider by @kodaswrld

skz masterlist

"Jisung, take that out of your mouth- Seungmin, no, don't give it back to him... You two, stop fighting-"

You smile and lean your head on your hand, watch Chan attempt to wrangle the members, most of which have had far too much sugar to be at a controllable level. You're sitting at the hotel table, and most of the other members are messing about in the lounge area. Everyone but for Minho, who went to lie down earlier, complaining of a headache.

Speaking of, you should probably go check on him.

Getting up and putting your empty glass in the sink, you make your way past the group and down the hallway of bedrooms, entering the second-left door. You're greeted with darkness and a faint groan from within the heap of rumpled sheets on the bed.

"Minho?" You call softly, pulling the door half-shut so as not to disturb him with the hallway light. You walk up to the bed, quiet as a mouse. "How are you feeling?"

He just groans in response as you gently pull back the sheets, checking his temperature just in case he's fallen ill. "Noona..."

"Shh," you quiet him gently, soothing. "Does it hurt much?"

He shakes his head, his hair splayed against the pillow. Likely he's just tired from the day's events. You sit on the end of the bed and stroke his hair for a while, lulling him to sleep. He's already had medicine, and you kiss his forehead gently before getting up to leave.

Shutting the door, you're met with Jeongin and Seungmin, who cling to either one of your arms, sulking. You chuckle and sit down on the lounge couch, both of them burying their faces in your neck.

"What's wrong, you two?" You ask, ruffling Seungmin's hair.

"Chan-hyung told us off," Jeongin whines.

You mock-frown at the leader, who is standing in baggy black clothes, a disapproving expression on his face. He face-palms and you stick your tongue out at him. He scoffs, though you can detect a hint of affection behind it, and claps his hands.

"Alright, you drama kings. Bed."

.

"Hyunjin, take it easy," you say, concerned as he runs through the choreo for a fifth time. "Take a break."

He seems to not have heard, because he keeps dancing with even greater fervour. Sighing, you take his ear and drag him to the side, ignoring his protests. Tossing him a towel and giving him a bottle of water, you place a hand on his leg. You know he's been pushing himself lately, to the point where you had to lock the hotel room door so he wouldn't sneak out at night to practice.

You're all outside at the concert venue, doing soundchecks a few hours before the event commences, and it's cloudy, the wind blowing a breeze through everyone's hair. Chan comes over, frazzled, papers flying behind him, his cap half-falling off, and his fingers covered in bandaids from several clumsy, hastened tasks he had to do.

"I forgot to do the song breaks," he gasps, his hair disheveled. Hyunjin side-eyes him through a sip of water.

You adjust his cap, smoothing down the little duck tail curls at his nape. "Don't worry. I did them already. What did you do to your hands- Mmhff-"

You're cut off as he squeezes you in a hug, a relieved exhale leaving his frame, taking some of the tension with it. "Thank you, Y/nnie. What would I do without you?"

The sentence reverberates through your head; would things be worse without you there?

This means I need to do more, you think. I can help out as much as possible.

You mull this over and wave a momentary goodbye to Hyunjin, walking backstage with Chan. Felix, Changbin, and Jisung are busy being fitted for outfits and they immediately pummel you for attention, calling out as soon as you enter the room.

"NOONA LOOK AT MY SPARKLY TOP-"

"NOONA DO YOU LIKE THE COLOUR OF THESE GLOVES-"

"NOONA DO I LOOK COOL-"

You wave your hands. "Very cool and sparkly, I do like the colour, you all look great!"

It seems to satisfy them for the time being, and you watch them dissipate to their respective stylists. Passing through the room, you sit down in a chair in the corner and keep an eye on all of the boys. Chan is stressed enough right now; the least you can do is keep an eye on the members while he finalises things for the concert.

Your stomach rumbles and you think about quickly leaving to get food from one of the cafes across the street from the stadium, but you can't risk leaving the members unsupervised. Guaranteed, one of them will come looking, and then everything will fall to pieces. Crossing your arms over your stomach, you sigh and unscrew a bottle of water instead. That should keep you full for a while.

At least you hope it does.

.

You laugh and hug a sweaty Jisung, cheering. The concert went off without a hitch, and you're all backstage, congratulating each other on the performances and enjoying the moment of togetherness. Except you can't enjoy it as much, because your head is beginning to hurt, and it's starting to get difficult to see. You probably should have eaten something earlier, but you can last until you all get back to the hotel.

You all file out of the venue and pile into cars. Your foot almost missed the car threshold and you bump your shin, hissing as you collapse into the seat next to Chan.

"You okay?" He asks. He has his headphones in, his makeup smudging a little at the corners of his eyes.

You nod, sighing. "Long day. Good work on the performance."

He smiles and you reach up to gently clean up the messy makeup with a thumb, his gaze fixed on you. Jeongin and Seungmin are looking over the back of the seats in disgust.

"Noona," Hyunjin groans from behind. "Stop hitting on leader-hyung."

You roll your eyes and look out the window as Chan turns to tell him off. Your thoughts wander and you rub a hand against your shin, trying to soothe the ache. Your fingers come away lightly stained in red.

Panicking, and then glancing at Chan to check he hasn't seen, you inspect your leg. There's a few spots of red where the blood has soaked through the fabric of your pants, and you cross your legs quickly so as to hide the stain.

You think for a moment; you could ask someone if they have a bandaid, maybe... after all, there are always first aid kits in the cars, but you can't be weak and ask for help. Your job is to be there when other people ask for help, not the other way round.

Sighing, you try your best to hide your pain as you filter out of the car after the others. Your stomach rumbles, more insistently this time, and you quickly uncap your water bottle, trying to quell the dull, growing ache in your stomach. Your head hurts too, but you don't have time to think about it as you enter the hotel room, mind already whirring with things that need to be done.

You go to your room and quickly slap a bandaid on the cut on your shin, washing your hands of the blood and then changing into comfier clothes. Rolling your sleeves up, you enter the kitchen and begin cutting up ingredients, throwing spices into a pan and seasoning meat. The guys have had a long, tiring day, not to mention a whole concert, so they deserve a good, home-cooked meal away from home.

.

"Noona, this is so good," Felix groans, heaping in another mouthful of cheesy tteokbokki. There's silence around the table; everyone is so invested in stuffing their faces. Hyunjin has even tied his hair back so he can eat without dipping his hair in the soup, and Changbin has stolen two of your hairclips to keep his bangs back for the same reason.

You sit next to Chan as per usual, holding a cup of a hot herbal drink; you didn't feel like eating is what you told the boys when they insisted you take your share of the massive spread you cooked for them.

In reality, you're starving, but it doesn't seem fair for you to be eating when they've been working so much harder. They deserve it more. After all, you're just the second-in-command, Chan's right hand person and a manager for the boys. You don't work nearly twice as hard as they do on a good day.

You set the mug down on the table, standing up. The pain in your head aches and throbs sharply with the movement and you fight not to fall over. "I'm going to bed."

Some of the guys nod with mouths full of meat and rice, and you retire to your room, shutting the door. You collapse on the bed and close your eyes, trying to will the headache away.

That doesn't work, unfortunately.

The door opens then, and it's Minho who comes in, peeking around the corner. "Noona?"

"Mmm."

"Do you have a headache like I did?"

You nod and sit up, rubbing your eyes, and give him a tired smile. "Nothing I can't handle. Did you need something?"

He shakes his head, and then shyly comes into the room, holding a bowl of soup. "I saw you weren't eating earlier... Chan-hyung wondered if we should bring you something to eat..."

You let him place the soup on the bedside. "Thank you, Minho. I might just sleep, but I'll eat after-"

"No," he says firmly, with the absolute ferocity of a tiny, fluffy kitten.

"What?"

Jisung pokes his head in at the doorway. "You have to eat now."

You swing your legs off the bed. "Why?"

"Because," Chan says, appearing behind the two, Jeongin holding his leader's sleeve, "You need to take care of yourself and not just us."

"But I am."

The four boys suddenly tumblr into the room as Changbin and Hyunjin stick their noses into the conversation too.

"Noona, you hurt your leg earlier and you didn't tell us," Hyunjin whines. "And you told me to take a break from dancing but you didn't take a break the whole day-"

"Yeah, and then you went to your room and pretended to sleep so you wouldn't have to eat," Changbin pouts.

Chan gestures to the still-cooling soup on the bedside that Minho had brought for you earlier. "Please, Y/n."

You sigh. "Okay, okay. It just felt wrong to be eating as well, since I don't work even half as hard as you guys do-"

You're interrupted by a crowd of indignant protests and it's so loud that you immediately raise the soup bowl to your mouth. All of the boys watch as you take a mouthful of the rich, meaty broth. It fills your stomach on the first go. Your headache slowly begins to fade.

The boys filter into the room and hang around you while you eat, bickering and play-fighting. None of them make you feel self-conscious or inferior, just bringing with them a sort of peace.

You eventually fall asleep curled between two of the boys, surrounded by serenity, warmth, and the still-lingering scent of soup hanging faintly in the air.

a/n: i was gonna name this one 'soup' but i already have a jisung fic about soup soooo

[jiniretracha]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠? - 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 (𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬)

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, smut, angst!!!

summary: You worked at Kim Publishing, a place you could call home since the very start. But when it faced bankruptcy, your beloved company was forced to merge with Bang Editorials an evil empire with no vision on anything that Kim Publishing represented. And that's how you met your nemesis: Felix Lee. The bane of your existence. But everything fell into place like the pieces of a puzzle when your bosses had a marvellous idea: a new position as manager director, who had to submit their report in order to be chosen for the job. And your archenemy had the same purpose as you did: get that job one way or another.

ps: hey it's me, i'm back. I came with a new series totally and utterly inspired/based on The Hating Game. Here's a little teaser, the first chapter is out tomorrow :) pls feel free to let me know if you wanna be on this series taglist !

TEASER:

There used to be a period of your life, when you started working at Kim Publishing, that you loved your job with your entire being. You’ve always been kind of a bookworm, often called a nerd, and as soon as you finished school, you knew you wanted a job that related to your love for them. 

Kim Publishing was your home, just like the owner, Kim Hwayoung, who felt like a stepmother to you. The company was known for its insistence on literature as art, just like you’ve always envisioned. 

But that was until last year.

Your beloved company Kim Publishing sadly faced bankruptcy and was forced to merge with Bang Editorial, an evil empire with no vision on anything that Kim Publishing represented. Basically known for ghostwritten autobiographies of sports stars with brain damage. 

That meant one thing: Bang Editorial workers had to move into the Kim Publishing building. In other words, war. 

You’ve had to suffer from having co-workers being fired in front of you because, according to Bang Seojun, the CEO of Bang Editorials, they were a waste of money and space. 

And that’s how you’ve met your nemesis: Felix Lee.

The bane of your existence. 

Your reasons for hating him were various. 

Reason One: You’ve seen him smile to everyone around you, showing kindness, except towards you. 

Why? You never knew exactly why, to be honest. The minute you met him, knowing you’d be partnered to share the same office, your desks being right in front of each other, you decided to gift him some cupcakes, feeling like making a good impression on your new co-worker. You knew you’d be spending an awful lot of time around him, the least you could do was make him feel at home. 

But Felix Lee just glanced at your face, grabbed the cupcake box and, wordlessly, walked towards the elevator, without sparing another glance at you. 

You stood there that day in your place, feeling so dumb and asking yourself what the hell had you done wrong. 

You’d ask your co-workers about him and they all said the same thing: he was lovely. He seemed to be so nice and kind and yet, he didn’t show not an ounce of niceness or kindness towards you. He was the exact opposite. 

Reason Two: He’s a control freak. 

His desk, unlike yours, was incredibly tidied. Every little thing had its place. You hated it, cause if somebody were to look at your desk, they would grimace and compare it to his. It wasn’t that yours was a mess, it’s just that his was likely comparable to American Psycho. 

You always had fun walking towards his desk when he wasn’t around and messing around with his stuff, misplacing the stapler, moving the sticky notes or turning the pens on their other side. He’d turn around and absolutely know that everything was out of its place. Borderline psychopathic conduct. 

The guy even wore the same shirts in the same order every fucking week. Who does that?

You had even memorized the pattern. 

Monday: light grey.

Tuesday: white.

Wednesday: baby blue.

Thursday: sky blue.

Friday: royal blue. 

So predictable, you always thought every time he arrived at the office with the same shirts on the same day. 

Reason Three: He always corrects any tiny mistake you make. 

You’d give him reports and he’d hand them back to you all scribbled over with a sharp red marker, to give you some sort of consciousness of your mistakes (his words, not yours). 

Reason Four: Probably the most important one. After the merger, he came up with a list of people to fire, making Bang Seojun almost come in his pants from the excitement it gave him saving money, and it included all of your co-workers and friends.

Who were kind of all of the friends you had, if you were being honest. 

It made your skin crawl just how unaffected by the whole thing he was, just flawlessly walking around with his stupid freckles and stupid black hair, always so perfectly combed. 

Felix Lee seemed like the perfect guy with his charms and freckles from the outside, but don’t let him fool you.

You were convinced he was the actual devil in disguise. 

first chapter out tomorrow !!!!

[yandere-sins]

Hi! Can we get a short story of Dazai being a Pleasure Dom, giving his bound and gagged darling multiple orgasms?

Anything this guy does is pleasureably terrifying isn't it? Thanks for requesting ♥

Warning for fem!darling

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Ah--! No...! No more!"

"It's only been like, what? Four times? Come on, you can take one more, darling."

"No--" you mewled, the sound getting stuck in your throat as you felt Dazai's fingers pushing back into your soaked cunt, forcing you to draw in your breath sharply. Everything between your legs felt raw and exhausted, pleading with you to give it a rest. But you couldn't since you weren't the one in control. "Not again! Please, not again!"

Your pleading did nothing to persuade Dazai to stop. Torturously slow, he slipped his middle finger inside, all the way up this knuckle, twisting and churning the juices inside you. After so many orgasms, it was hard to say where your insides started, and the mess ended, but he didn't seem to mind.

The last thing you wanted was to let your captor get you off again and again. Twisting in your restraints, your efforts and strength did nothing to budge the enforced handcuffs Dazai had produced that morning, taking advantage of your sleepiness to force your hands above your head so he'd have free range of your body. He'd been so nonchalant about it as well, slapping his thighs as he announced he'd send you to heaven before slathering his hands in lotion and going to town on you.

You couldn't even remember the order of assaults you endured. Hands, fingers, tongue. A little round vibrator that still made your pussy quiver from within, and then he started right up from the beginning. The massive bulge in his pants was undeniable, his cock twitching and straining to be released. Almost as if your pleasure gave back to Dazai as much as he was giving you. But you were thankful that he hadn't thought about using his cock to fill you up. Who knew if, after all of this deprivation, he could still control himself. But the threat remained.

"I really can't! I can't, no more!" you pleaded frantically, but instead of accepting your refusal, you jerked as Dazai's pointer finger snug inside. His hand clasped over your entrance, palm rubbing up and down your sex, wet and slimy from all the work he had done. His thumb was dangerously close to your clit. The poor thing was beyond disturbed, swollen, and abused. Every touch more would cause as much pain as it would pleasure, and you were ready for neither.

Your brain simply couldn't take it anymore. As if being abducted and held captive wasn't enough, this freak just kept coming up with new ways to torture you. If it wasn't drugs, it was forcing you to play house with him, and his newest idea of bliss: keeping you happy by fucking you out of your mind.

"I got to give you what you deserve, babe. Aren't you going to let me make you come again? Won't you be my good girl?"

"Hngh--! I'm not-- I'm not your good girl!"

"You sure are, can't you hear how wet you are for me?"

Goosebumps erupted all over your skin as Dazai redirected your attention towards the sounds between your legs. All the squelching and popping as he fucked his fingers into your cunt was nauseating. He even slowed down deliberately, letting you hear every admission of wetness as he gradually pushed his fingers in, curling them upwards and spreading your pussy wide open. His doings were bad enough, but witnessing them with all your senses made it so much more despicable.

You just wanted him to stop, although you feared your hips started moving very hesitantly into his provocations, trying to feel more.

Groaning loudly, your head fell back as he applied pressure to your clit, rolling it beneath the tip of his thumb so the intensity would shift like a wave over it. As expected, every zap of pleasure was underlined by the burning pain of a tortured nerve. Yet, it elevated the stimulation even more. Dazai grinned at the torment written on your face, your writhing body only spurring him on more, which caused you to cry out louder in return. There was nothing you could be accused of to deserve this fate. You didn't even remember meeting your captor before he kidnapped you!

And yet, here you were, forcing your eyes to watch your own torture, hoping it would make a difference. It was easy to tune out, but you doubted you could take your mind off while you were hit by countless explosions of sensations every few seconds. Thus, you had to see. Had to witness the cocky grin playing on his lips, the lewd, obsessive darkness swirling in his eyes as Dazai watched you. And you also had to see him fisting your underwear in his free hand, bringing it up to his mouth and nose to take a whiff, dick twitching in his pants as he momentarily stopped his assault.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he sighed as you stared in horror. You didn't, and you didn't want to. However, it might have helped if you two had better understood each other. Regardless, looking into the mind of a psycho would not help your sanity, that much you were sure.

"Will you just stop, you freak!" you yelled at Dazai, drawing in one of your legs, ready to kick him into his stomach. However, faster than you could attack, Dazai had your foot in his hand, your wet panties smothered between his palm and your sole. His grip around the soft tissue of your foot was painfully tight while the fingers lodged in your cunt curled uncomfortably deep. You grit your teeth as best as possible, but eventually, you were forced to yield, releasing the strength from your leg and allowing him to put it down at his side again.

Immediately, Dazai unfurled his fingers inside you again, scissoring them apart for a little to ease the tension before resuming the fucking. You hated how powerless you were, pain threatening to overtake you almost every time you tried to fight. It was the same reason you couldn't resist him for the last four orgasms—he had ways to get his will, and you could only take so much before you'd go insane. You hated him! Hated, hated, hated him!

And yet you moaned and wound yourself like a bitch in heat.

"I don't appreciate you trying to kick me when I'm doing something so nice for you, sweetheart. Guess that means no more talking for you, pity," Dazai mused gloatingly, faking his regret as you arched your back against the attack on your pussy. It only caused more pressure to your clit, beautiful, delicious pressure with his fingers stirring up your inside and the vibrator making you want to scream.

"Wha--?" you managed to say before a soft fabric was slammed between your teeth, Dazai pressing it in deeper and deeper as you tried to spit it out. You struggled in your holds and fought against the gag, but Dazai kept his hand on top of your lips, nails scratching your skin when you tried to shake it off. Now, one hand clasped over your mouth and one on top of your pussy, he held complete control of your body.

Pushing his weight down on you, you were pinned to the mattress as Dazai picked up the speed. You screamed into the gag, the sounds barely as loud as the slobby cacophony from between your legs. Fluids were flying everywhere as Dazai pounded your pussy mercilessly, tears filling your eyes as the overstimulation reached its peak, vibrator, and finger working together in a cruel display of dominance until they finally achieved their goal.

Helplessly, you were pushed over the edge, the crash into overstimulated madness even longer and even more painful than the last four had been. Sound couldn't reach you, the world coming to a complete halt as if time came to a standstill and meaning left your body before everything bounced back, the pain and pleasure, everything at once and like a myriad of slaps all over your body. You were sure you were crying out into the silence of the apartment, but you couldn't hear yourself. Knew your heart was beating like crazy but you didn't even feel it.

Time simply passed, but it didn't register in your head.

When you finally began to see, hear, and feel again, your pussy was free from all the disturbances. Somewhere the little vibrator buzzed on the ground, possibly ejected with your orgasm, and Dazai sat by your head, his cock freed from its prison as he vigorously stroked it.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbled, over and over, compliments raining down on you.

"You did so well! You were absolutely stunning! You are the best, I knew you wouldn't disappoint me! I love you so much! So, so much!"

And with a groan and no other warning, Dazai leaned forward, ripping the underwear he had used as a gag from your mouth before stuffing his cock between your lips. Your eyes widened, but it was already too late countless spurts of bitter, disgusting cum filled your mouth and throat. Your hands moved to grab his hips and push Dazai off you, but you were bitterly reminded of the handcuffs as you couldn't move, and his cock simply slid further and further down your throat.

Dazai's hips jerked with every spurt, he, himself, holding on to the wall behind the bed for his dear life as he mewled and groaned, his joy and your gulping the only sounds you could hear with your head straddled by his thighs. He had slipped into the position almost naturally. As if this had been a choreography you two had done countless times while you barely had enough air to stay conscious.

Finally, after what felt like agonizing minutes, Dazai looked down at you, finding your eyes between his legs, and grinned. A wide, boyish grin that made your blood freeze. For him, this was all a great experience and not the same torture you had endured.

"You did so well," he praised you. "Let me get you sorted, darling. I'll make sure to reward you well for today."

Lifting his hips, it felt like he was popping the plug from a bathtub, his cock moving out while the cum flushed down your throat. Once you were freed, you immediately began to cough, moving your head and getting slapped by the dripping cock hanging just above you, cum smearing everywhere. Dazai merely laughed, finally producing the key to the handcuffs and freeing you.

With your arms barely strong enough to hold themselves up on their own, you pushed him aside, crawling out from under him and away—as far as possible, preferably. But he followed—of course he did—while you coughed out your lungs, fluids getting everywhere.

Catching your face, Dazai helped wipe off the cum from your eyelids so you could see again, your glare not going unnoticed, but his mood was too good to ruin. Instead, he cupped your cheeks, wiping some leftovers from your lips and forcing his thumb between them and your teeth until he had you lick up the spill forcefully.

"I know it was a lot, baby," he muttered compassionately. "But you really did so well, what do you think? One more orgasm next time?"

"Fuck you!" you spat back, following it up with a mixture of spit and cum that landed directly on his cheek.

With a disappointed sigh, Dazai used one hand to swipe it off, licking it from his fingers without even a moment of hesitation. "That's too bad," he commented before his grin widened menacingly.

"Guess we are back to punishing you if you don't like taking your rewards like a good girl."

[alfascorpiionux]

Ascendants: How to recognize them

Aries:short-tempered and impulsive are the first words that come to my mind. They are direct in speech and appreciate having friends around though they might not be the friendliest and at times they like drawing into themselves. They are self-sufficient and stick to their point of view. Could be ambitious, energetic. They are likely lean/atletic or if they are not into sports then on the lighter side. Fast walkers or talkers. They give off the air of an independent/confident person. Sharp facial features.

Taurus: chill, laid-back, well-dressed, agreeable. They like to take their time doing things. Hate being rushed. Are likely stubborn and would rather be coaxed than forced into doing things. They appreciate the fine things in life: good food, nice clothes, aesthetic stuff etc. Not particularly confrontational; could have problems bottling up feelings and then explode. As about body type - they are probably on the curvy/chubbier side. Expressive eyes and soft, rounder cheeks. Probably brown/darker hair and eyes. Should take care not to overeat.

Gemini: meet the charmers/socialites! These natives probably have a good number of friends or at least acquaintances. They are good speakers, with intellectual air to their communication. Can fit in with almost any group. Likely doesn’t struggle socially or if he/she does will quickly find a solution. Since it’s an air sign, traits such as open-mindedness, inquisitiveness, curiosity and friendliness will most likely be used to describe this individual.

Could become a great teacher or writer. Highly intelligent, probably has many hobbies. Is quite energetic and restless.

As body type - tall and on the leaner side. Long or elegant fingers. Expressive, mischievous eyes. It’s said that the Gemini rising is a desirable position as it is associated with a youthful appearance, regardless of age.

Cancer: shy, reserved, protective are all words that would describe them well. They are people who value privacy a lot and for whom family plays a crucial part in their life. They like looking out for people and definitely notice the little details (ex.cat hair on your new jeans, the subtlest shift in the tone of your voice).

Not the most social but there are likely many people who’d like to get to know them as their aura is very comforting and warm.

Might be prone to mood swings or be sensitive to changes of scenery/season.

As about body type - look for soft features, big and expressive eyes, pale or sensitive skin.

Leo: charismatic, stylish, outspoken & generous. Much like the Sun itself, this native’s presence can be felt whenever he/she enters the room. They dress to the latest fashion trends or have their own particular sense of style that makes them distinctly stand out. Can definitely stick up for their idea and will. Could have the tendency to be dictatorial or controlling but are generally very friendly and pleasant people to be around. Very protective of their children especially. Generous and direct, sometimes a little too trusting. Leadership qualities are very likely. People see them as trustworthy and worth listening too. Probably is well-liked and has a supportive circle of friends he/she regularly keeps in contact with.

As body type - broad shoulders or strong frame. Very well-kept hair. Good posture and expressive eyes. Radiant smile.

Virgo: graceful, observant, analytical and conscientious are the key words here. These people don’t typically like being in the spotlight. They are helpful, polite and practical. They pay attention to their health and are probably in a good shape. They like having routines and take special pleasure in completing daily tasks or could not do without them.

They don’t go for flashy styles of clothing and are all about looking neat and well-put together.

As body types - they are medium or on the petite side. Could be athletic too. Youthful. Long fingers, delicate hands. Graceful or measured movements.

[teastudieseveryday]

Spring cleaning & personal learnings:

I rarely ever post anything personal, but these have been my learnings of 2024:

Your social media account is your personal sanctuary, you can block/delete/remove/not follow back/unfollow people at your own whims. You can choose to block out what you don't want to see and the energy you don't want to be around. You aren't obliged to appease to people for validation. You rock with you, you do you.

Hanging out with unmotivated people who speak fear and negativity into themselves will slowly turn you into a negative/pessimistic/cynic like them even if they support you, energies matter, energies are silent!

Make your phone boring if you want to achieve something in life.

Not everyone needs to know about your plans, sometimes not even your best friend. (this is to say, a lot of us aren't blessed with pure hearted besties who genuinely want for us what we want for ourselves)

Motivation doesn't work, sometimes discipline fails too. Fear is a good tool; fear of failure works on days when motivation and discipline doesn't.

Subconscious rewiring and manifesting can change lives if done correctly and persistently.

No aim is big enough. Just point, aim and shoot!

Always monitor your own personal energy, you need to be energetically healthy to feel good about yourself and your goals and to show up consistently every day.

Some people aren't nice, they won't like you probably because you threaten their social status and it's totally normal to remove yourself from that zone instead of diminishing your light or shrinking yourself to make them feel safe and their alpha status feel less threatened because why? Why would you be less and not more of everything? You can choose not to fight for the attention/love/validation to be seen and heard and make an Irish exit from such spaces. Be where you are celebrated, not where you are tolerated! Such a quote to live by.

Pick your battles, not every battle is worth fighting.

Don't say anything you don't mean. It's very simple.

No revenge, just outdo yourself and the revenge gets taken care of.

Silence is great, not as a power move but because silence gives other people the space to speak, express and be themselves. You don't do power play with your own people; you give them the space to open up to you and be their authentic self.

If you sense powerplay, your best bet is to exit that space. You'll constantly be at an invisible battle in a group/with that person where both will try to take control of the dynamics in that setting and it will end up being a whole lot of mental gymnastics and loss of energy.

Redirect your energy towards bigger and better things, towards things that truly matter.

Reading is great, it inculcates a sense of gravity in your mind about the things you're passionate about, you don't blabber excessively in spaces that genuinely don't matter in the bigger scheme of things, and you build an air of importance and there's this 'chad' like air around you which intimidates people, and they think twice before challenging you to some debate because they know you hold a command over your subject and niche.

Not everyone is your friend. some people are here for your energy, some people are genuinely supportive of you and your goals, some people are not very happy about your small wins and big dreams. All in all- trust your intuition in these instances.

Be authentic about your expression and feelings, life is finite, we will die one day, there's no point being ambiguous or nonchalant about how you feel. Losing to someone in this area of life is far better than being emotionally constipated. Collect good karma and you'll be rewarded likewise in the future!

Your energy does reach the room before your words do, so be self-conscious in a way where you carry yourself with integrity and move with poise.

I watched this reel which I resonated with 100% it went like- life is easier and better when you are a chad, you work out, take care of yourself, do skincare, read, journal, listen to affirmations, cut off negativity, do dopamine detox etcetera. Life's just better when you are a chad, and yes that's so true. I see zero lie in that.

You aren't obligated to lookout for people who aren't fending for themselves.

Your perspective matters, if you think all men are shit you'll encounter a majority of men who are shit; if you think life sucks, it will continue sucking; if you think math is hard, it will continue being hard for you to grasp. So think 'my life is on easy mode' and watch things switch. Law of assumption is powerful.

Choose the right people: certain people bring a certain side out of you. The chirpy & secure ones make you feel secure in yourself, the naysayers bring out a more self-doubting side out of you, the spiritual ones help you get in touch with your own spiritual side. I chose to be around softer people this time, not edgy, not cold, not harsh, not judgmental. I was around accepting, kind, generous, gentle, softer people and I felt a whole shift in my own aura, I feel more confident than ever, more accepting towards myself and I am gentler to the other people I meet. Choose the table you want to sit on and be affiliated to, because that's who you'll become and that's what your external & internal narrative will turn into.

I hope this resonates with some of you and gives you some perspective.

[andre-and-cal]

Andre and Cal experiencing solipsism syndrome,,

I recently thought of this and it became one of my personal favorite concepts.

Solipsism syndrome is characterized as, “a psychological state and condition in which a person feels that reality is not external to their mind”. I think that if they did have this condition, their close affinity and naturally cutthroat nature would have influenced one another into holding this standpoint.

It’s kind of like a shared solipsism syndrome. Think of folie à deux but a little different.

The reason why the Army of Two spend so much time with each other— sometimes even more than they spend time with their own family— is not just because they have an intimate pact with one another, but also because they have a shared belief that they are the only two people who exist.

Andre finds it difficult to imagine that there are other people around them who can think. He believes that their peers are entities who completely lack autonomy or a true sense of purpose. He thinks that he and Calvin are the only two “people with a brain” in the somewhat murky world surrounding them, so he feels less fucked-up. He didn’t care that he was abnormal before, though he felt out of place and different… “different” with a negative connotation. Andre also assumes that objects not related to— or manipulated by— him and Cal, are insentient.

Cal feels that everyone is similar to a zombie, even those who are in his own family. Andre feels likewise, although he does care about his parents and feels a little differently toward them. Cal simply thinks that those who aren’t like him and Andre are easily controlled. Also, sometimes when he’s with Andre, he’ll randomly jerk his arm or leg, so that Andre remembers he’s real. In Calvin’s eyes, humans move “too mechanically” to be considered worth sympathizing for or holding pity over. Additionally, to Cal, people have no concept of existence or being. Because of this, he feels that Zero Day is important.

If they did have this condition, Cal and Andre’s individual motives behind Zero Day would slightly shift. Instead putting forth some of the vengeance and anger Andre wanted to incorporate, Cal would suggest further proving the message they stood by— providing a delusional point of view and argue how “people don’t matter because they may not truly exist”. So any upsetting or humiliating experiences they may have had with others should be considered obsolete because of their seemingly newfound status in this “false” territory they have been investigating their whole lives. Andre believes it is a creation of their own minds, and his brief explanations, to Cal, promote the fact that they are actually Gods.

Therefore, they felt more comfortable being intimate, including kissing and hugging. After all, they should be companions— they’re the only two real people who share the same views, after all.

Rachel thought Cal was just philosophical. Unfortunately, she was only seeing the surface of the boy she saw as a close friend, a “good guy” and a barely-noticeable crush.

[orthodoxchristianity]

God answers difficult questions

Where was God when this happened to me?: He was there—He sees everything (Prov. 15:3)

Didn't He care? Yes, He did and still does (Nah. 1:7; 1 Pet. 5:6, 7).

How could a loving God allow this to happen? God gave His creations freedom of choice. He did not make people like puppets (Deut. 30:15-20).

Does the Lord understand how I feel? Yes, more than anyone (Is. 53:3; Heb. 4:15).

Is recovery possible? With God all things are possible (Matt. 19:26). Yes, He wants to bring healing to you (Jer. 17:14).

How can I be healed? Trust God to be faithful to His Word (Ps. 18:25).

Where do I begin? God hears you— confess your hurt (Ps. 34:17, 18). Give your hurt to Him (1 Pet. 5:7). Forgive the one who has grieved you (Col. 3:13).

Isn't forgiveness difficult? Yes, but what God commands you to do, He will equip you to do (1 Thess. 5:24). Realize that God has forgiven you (Eph. 4:32). Recognize that forgiveness is not the same as reconciliation-the former is something you are called to do; the latter is something that requires the offender's repentance.

Then what do I do? Don't take revenge— God will deal with the violator (Rom. 12:19). Look ahead rather than being controlled by the past (Is. 43:18, 19). Look for the good that will come out of the bad (Rom. 8:28).

When will I heal? Healing of deep hurt takes time (Eccl. 3:3). It is a process of:

facing the harm (Ps. 51:6)

acknowledging your feelings (Eccl. 3:4-8)

applying God's truth from His Word (Ps. 107:20)

working with wise counselors and caring friends to deal with ongoing hurts

*all credit to the Woman’s Study Bible NKJV