My Dearest

Black || 20 || 18+ content || she/her || Requests are open || I jump around a lot ♡

[droopycoquette]

Lists of Master

-Green Masterlist-

WOMEN'S SPORTS

BASKETBALL

-Caitlin Clark

-Sue bird

-Diana Taurasi

SOCCER

-Mapi Leon

-Alexia Putella

-Lucy Bronze

MISC.

-Letitia Wright

-Lashana Lynch

-Kyoka Yamamoto

KPOP(retired)

-Ateez

-BTS

-SuperM

-Stray Kid

[weepingcoquette]

Nothing Else Feels Right || Dana Evans x reader x Michael Robinavitch x

Summary: Who would have thought that a couple of barre classes would lead you to her? To them?

Warnings: fem!reader, bimbo!reader, downbad!dana, yearning, age gap(not specified), aesthetic nurse!reader, slowish-burn, eventual poly pitt trio, established rabbot, suggestive content(no smut...yet)

Word count: 5.0k

a/n: this is slightly more self-indulgent then i usually go. i’m a hyperfem bi girl so i couldn’t resist. 

this was inspired by this ask i sent in to @loves-alibi + her dana evans/rabbot fics

|*|

The barre studio smelled faintly of eucalyptus and rubber mats. The instructor's voice bounced and echoed off the spacious room as sweat dripped down your temple. You were halfway through regretting your life choices.

Your calves burned, your thighs trembled, and the instructor had the audacity to chirp “ten more seconds!” like that meant anything to the muscles currently screaming for mercy.

You gripped the bar harder; no one else had dropped yet. Sometimes you would get lucky, and some poor soul would drop out of the position, giving you the okay to drop for a second as well. But you would actually rather drop dead than be the first one to drop the position, especially because she was here.

Across the mirror, you noticed her again. Tall and lean. Blonde hair pulled into a loose bun that somehow stayed intact even through the torture of pliés. There was a shake in her arms when the instructor pushed the class to hold it, but she never actually stopped.

She just endured.

This was only your fourth class, but she was the reason you kept coming. It was nice having a little eye candy. It made you work harder, reaching your arms just a little higher, sitting in your plie just a little deeper. 

Your eyes flick over to her for a second, scaring yourself when she meets your eyes in the mirror. You look away quickly, heart beating strongly in your chest from the physical exertion. You could see her smirk out of the corner of your eye. 

Great. Now you were in the middle of a barre class, chest rising and falling like an idiot and shaking like a leaf. And, to top it all off, she saw you. Saw you struggling, saw you sweating, saw you nearly red in the face. How embarrassing! Your lungs burned, but you welcomed it, anything to make you forget the 3.2 seconds of embarrassment that you just experienced.

You silently finish the class, making it a point not to look in her direction again. You could feel the sweat drip down your back as you gather your things. Maybe another studio would be better, a fresh start. That wasn’t a bad idea. You had only taken four classes, you didn’t have loyalty to this studio yet…

“You look good, kid,” a voice states behind you. “Definitely getting better.”

Your head snaps to look behind you, electricity coursing through you at the sight of the woman standing there. She takes in your demeanor, your shiny water bottle charms, and your doe eyes. She looks at you expectantly, and you realize you have yet to respond.

“Oh,” you breathe, ignoring the burning feeling of self-consciousness, chest still rising and falling rapidly from the physical exertion you just went through. “Thanks. Not as good as you, though. How long have you been coming here?”

“A while,” she chuckles, watching as you stand with your things. She takes a deep breath, almost in preparation. “You doing anything after this?”

You shake your head no, it was your day off. You purposely picked one of your off days for these barre classes. You couldn’t imagine working in this condition, your body feeling like spaghetti. You’d die.

“Good,” she nods. “If you’d be okay with it, there’s this smoothie bar across the street. I was wondering if you’d like to go try it with me.”

“What?”

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You were still reeling from her accent. You had never heard her speak and had four weeks to fantasize about what it might sound like. This was so much better, it was firm but kind and had this confidence. Maybe the 3.2 seconds of embarrassment weren’t really that bad.

“I mean, yes! I’d love to,” you beam at her, your excitement radiating off of you. “I’ve been wanting to try that place.”

You follow her out of the studio like a duckling, bouncing with happiness. You learn her name is Dana and that she’s been taking the barre and pilates classes at the studio. You tell her your name, but you’ve taken a liking to the names she gave you, the names kid and doll were quickly becoming your favorite. 

As you approach the smoothie place, you rush to the door to hold it open for her, grinning as her cheeks become a beautiful shade of pink. She returns the favor at the second door, and you both giggle at the trade-off.

“You have manners,” she smiles at you. “I like that, kid.”

You don’t respond with words, something that she notices immediately. She takes in the way you shrug and beam at the recognition.

“What are you thinking of getting,” you ask as you glance at the menu. “I’m more of a tropical girl.”

Dana laughs at your revelation, of course you were a ‘tropical girl.’ You were exactly the type of girl she would have dated before her marriage; it kind of scared her. You were so…feminine and happy, carefree.

“Dana?”

“Hmm? Oh! I don’t know, maybe the,” Dana stutters. “Green-”

“Eww,” you whine. 

“Watch it,” she warns, teasingly. Her eyes flicked back to the menu. “ The tropical green, how about that? Better?”

“Better,” you agree. “But not by much.”

She scoffs at you, followed by a chuckle. Eventually, it's your turn in the line, and before you can go to order, she does. Telling the barista your order with confidence and tapping her card. 

She inwardly beams at your shock. Sure, it had been a while since she flirted with a woman that she actually liked, but she never forgot the feeling, even during her marriage. You were such a breath of fresh air and a reminder of her old life. What she was like before she got boring. 

 “Thank you,” you say bashfully. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but consider it a reward for completing your first month of barre,” Dana grins. “Most people drop out by their 3rd class.”

“Well, again, thanks.”

You both go find a table to sit at while you wait for your smoothies to be made, finding one by a window in the sunlight. Dana watches as you sit down and begin to fish around your bag. You pull out lip gloss, mascara, perfume, and a small jewelry bag. 

The blonde raises an eyebrow at you, to which you sheepishly shrug.

“You disrupted my after-barre routine,” you explain, opening the jewelry bag. “I can’t go around looking crazy.” 

She could watch you forever, her little princess. The sounds of your nails against the necklaces and rings filled the space, jingling and clanking. She could see why you took them off for the class.

“You want some help with those necklaces,” Dana offers, already standing to come behind you. 

Once she enters your personal bubble, the smell of your perfume increases significantly. Like it was meant just for her, it was perfect; you didn’t need more. No one else needed to know what you smelled like, just her.

“Oh,” you squeak. “Thank you. Geez, paying for my drinks, helping with my necklaces. I could get used to this.”

Your heart rang in your ears as she brushed your hair out of the way, careful not to tangle it. You were painfully aware of your breathing as she brought the necklace around you, the weight of the pendant just slightly heavier than usual. You pass her the second one, and she repeats the steps.

“Is that the right length,” she asks.

You nod, not trusting your voice. 

“I’m gonna need you to talk to me here,” Dana teases. “I can’t see your face.”

Oh fuck me, you whine mentally. 

“Yeah, that’s um,” you swallow thickly. “That’s good.”

Dana nods at your confirmation, clasping the second necklace. Why were you acting so shy now? 

Suddenly, a very unwelcome feeling crept up Dana’s neck. What if you were just shy? Was she making you uncomfortable? No, you said you could get used to this, so you did like it? Should she just ask her? Absolutely not! That could ruin everything. Maybe being out of the game for 25 years did have its drawbacks. 

“Dana,” a voice calls, alerting you both to the two smoothies sitting on the counter up at the front.

“There you go,” Dana states, patting the clasps. “I’ll go grab those smoothies.”

That unwelcome feeling spread through her body as she made her way to the front of the smoothie bar, stretching the time away from you as she found her bearings. She tried to think back to her youth, how did she know back then? What were the telltale signs of female attraction?

She grabbed two straws and put them into the cups as the condensation from the plastic seeped into the pads of her fingers. She had no way of knowing now. She had no clue how things had changed since back then.

She continued to stretch the time away from you, glancing at the corner of her eye as you used your phone as a mirror, coating your lashes with the mascara you had taken out of your bag.

She watched as you fluffed your hair, running your fingers through it all while the sun framed you. Checking your phone to make sure nothing was out of place before setting your phone down and putting your mascara away. At that very moment, while she watched the sun kiss your skin like it was made for you, Dana decided that it didn’t matter. She wanted to be around you and that was that, that was enough. It had to be.

“There you are,” you smile up at her. “I was starting to think you took my smoothie and ran.”

“Never,” Dana chuckles, as she sets your smoothie down in front of you. She sniffs the air, smelling something familiar. “You spray that perfume?”

You nod, eyes bright as your lips wrap around the straw, gingerly sucking.

“It’s good,” Dana informs, trying to ignore the fact that her core is pulsing just from looking at your lips. “It suits you.”

Dana tries hers, enjoying the taste of the green smoothie. She nods in contentment before looking back at you and noticing a confused look.

“What? You okay, doll,” she asks, her Boston accent thick. 

“Yeah,” you say, quickly. “It’s good. Thank you so much.”

Dana quirks an eyebrow at you as she takes another sip of her drink, looking you in the eyes. 

“You need to tell me if something is wrong,” Dana sighs. “Did they mess up the order?”

Your nails tap at the table as you nibble on the straw. 

“No,” you respond, not wanting to be a burden. She already paid for your drink, no need to make a big deal about it. 

“I can’t have you lying to me,” Dana teases, setting her drink down and crossing her arms. 

“I mean, yes. But, it’s still good.”

Dana smiles kindly at you before rising up again, “Here, give it to me. I’ll go trade it in.”

Your eyes widen in near terror. 

“No, no, no. Please, it’s alright. Really. You just sat down.”

“Come on. Now, little miss,” Dana demands, holding her hand out. Her tone leaves no room for suggestion.

You immediately hand it over, making Dana smile.

“Thank you,” you mumble softly.

“Of course,” Dana says gently, before walking off with your drink.

Dana mutters under her breath, ‘Friends, friends, we’re becoming friends.’ Even as questions pop up in her mind. Did she see your legs stiffen?

Her finger taps against the drink in her hand as she waits for the barista to return to the front. 

 Is that look in your eye familiar? No, but maybe. Maybe you like being taken care of? She’s taking care of you right now, isn’t she?

Dana nearly gasps at the realization. 

She’s not just taking care of you; she was treating you like she used to treat her subs. And, what’s worse, you were responding perfectly. Like a natural. You were the most confusing thing she had ever met.

Dana looked back at you, watching as you took your phone out again, puckering your lips and applying a layer of gloss. The sun makes the glitter and gloss shine all the more brilliantly. 

Oh fuck me.

|*|

The cocktail bar felt like a hidden gem, low-lit and polished, the kind of place that didn’t quite match the two men sitting across from her. Jack and Robby looked just a little out of place, sipping the overly colorful drinks the mixologist had insisted on, and Dana was already plotting how to get a picture of it. Ruin their so-called “street cred,” as Jack liked to say. Especially after the way they’d reacted to her little confession.

Robby and Jack laugh at her from across the booth as she slumps into the velvet cushions. Dana had been off for weeks now, and finally, she let them in on her pretty little secret. You. 

She had just finished recounting the story of how you both met.

“Wait, is that why you couldn’t pick a girl two weeks ago,” Robby asks, mentioning their attempts to bring Dana back into their dynamic. 

Dana’s expression tightened, a flush creeping up her neck.

“Oh my god,” Jack laughed. “Robby, you're right!”

“Shut up,” she sneered as unwanted memories flashed behind her eyes.

|*|

Only a month before she met you, the three of them had tried something that Jack and Robby had set up. 

Jack had been the one to push for it the hardest, though “push” wasn’t quite the word. He understood her. Clocked her early in their friendship in a way most people didn’t.

The control. The restraint. The way she held herself back.

Jack and Robby, but mainly Jack, had been on her for months about it. Persistent. Curious. Certain. They’d seen it in her early on, something familiar, something that mirrored parts of themselves. 

In short, Jack wanted her to experience the life again. Wanted to remind her of the high it could give you, experiencing it in full force again instead of in small vignettes. 

It didn’t take much to convince her. It wasn’t unfamiliar territory. Not even close.

Twenty-five years didn’t erase instinct. Didn’t dull it either. If anything, it sat under her skin like something waiting to be let loose again. She knew what she was capable of. Knew what she liked. Knew how to take someone apart and put them back together again. Twenty-five years didn’t change that.

They went to a lounge known for its unconventional dynamics and picked a young woman who fit what the three of them wanted. And it was perfect.

The girl they chose fit seamlessly into what they needed. Soft in all the right places, receptive, eager. The dynamic slipped back into place like muscle memory, even with the addition of Jack and Robby.

The fragile power exchange. The look of submission in her eyes as she knelt before Dana. It was everything. Dana thought that it wouldn’t get any better than that night. It was everything that Dana had missed. 

At least that’s what Dana thought. 

Until you.

|*|

Two weeks ago, they’d gone back, eager to relive the night they all enjoyed so much. Unbeknownst to them, Dana had a second, almost more important, goal: maybe Dana could forget her romantic feelings for you and focus on making them platonic.

However, to her horror, she realized that she couldn’t pick someone. Anyone. At least, not authentically.

Everywhere she looked, she found a laugh that sounded close enough to yours. A smile that almost matched. The gloss that reflected the light but, somehow, still not shiny enough.

She was surrounded by beautiful women, and yet, they weren’t you.  She didn’t feel attracted to anyone. She felt terrible. She tried to push you out of her mind, force herself to talk to someone else, but it didn’t work. They simply weren’t you.

Didn’t smell like you. Didn’t look at her like you did. Didn’t fold the way you did without even realizing it. 

She left them that night, returning home while they remained at the lounge, confused at their friend's sudden disinterest.

|*|

Which brings her back to this moment.

“Well, what’s the issue,” Jack asks, still a teasing lilt in his voice. 

“The issue?”

“You like her,” he shrugs, his crooked grin revealing itself. 

“She’s…” She trailed off, searching. Failing. “I just…I don’t want to mess it up.”

Dana’s fingers tap at the glass in thought before she continues. 

“I mean, this,” she gestured vaguely between the three of them, the unspoken dynamic, the history, the intensity of it. “This is a lot. It was a lot for me when I started. And she’s…”

Her voice softened despite herself.

“Soft.”

Dana shook her head, quieter now, and two men shot her a sympathetic look. Robby had never seen Dana like this, so unsure of herself. 

“I love you guys,” she admitted, glancing between them. “You know I do.”

Jack’s expression didn’t change, but his hand settled more firmly on Robby’s knee. Grounding. Steady.

“But I’d walk away from it,” Dana said plainly, “if it meant I didn’t scare her off. And that’s if she even likes women.”

The silence was deafening as Dana lit a cigarette and took a drag, leaning back and breathing out. 

“But, she’d be so perfect,” Dana reveals, almost in a whine. “I’ve never seen someone have such a natural submissive attitude, Jack. And she’s beautiful and so considerate. I went to her apartment once, and when I went a second time, she had gotten this cute little heart ashtray.”

She huffed out a laugh.

 “Just for me.”

Jack and Robby lean back, Jack putting his arm around Robby. They listen closely to Dana as she rambles on about your beauty and how your hair reflects the light. She reveals that when she had been to your apartment, you had cooked for her, and now she never wants to eat anyone's food ever again. To which Jack jokingly takes offense. 

“But,” Dana frowns, as her rambling comes to an end. “Once again, I just don’t know if she swings that way. Things have changed so much since I was in the game. The lounge was different. I knew what everyone wanted, but out here? I feel like such an idiot.”

“Hey,” Robby says, his hand coming to cover hers. “If it’s any consolation, from what you’ve told us, she’s interested.”

“I second that,” Jack agrees, a soft, sympathetic smile on his face. 

She returns it, taking another drag before releasing it, tapping the ash on the tray at the end of the table. The pair watches her as she loses herself in thought before smiling fondly.

“You guys would lose your minds if you saw her,” she grins. “I just want to grab her hips and kiss her neck. She smells so good.”

“We get it,” Jack laughs, setting his cocktail down and scratching his stubble.

“No, you don’t,” Dana says firmly. “You won’t until you meet her.”

Jack raises his hands in mock surrender before placing his hand back on Robby’s knee. Dana rolls her eyes at him, and they quickly return to their regular banter. Discussing Robby’s upcoming sabbatical and the things he’s planning on doing. 

“Resting,” Jack cuts in. “Better be.”

“For three months,” Dana scoffs. 

“Hey, hey,” Robby says defensively. “I can relax for three months. I know how to take it easy.

The three share a look at his blatant lie before laughing together. 

“Don’t worry, babe,” Jack says, patting Robby’s thigh. “Me and Dana can for sure help you relax.”

Robby’s face begins to have his signature red hue.

“Oh, for sure,” Dana agrees knowingly. 

The duo high-fives, to Robby’s faux-chagrin, giggling/chuckling as they both go to sip their drinks. Dana’s eyeline looks around the semi-busy cocktail bar; this was definitely not the kind of bar the two men in front of her would have picked, but she was enjoying it. And she couldn’t help but think you would enjoy it too. 

It was like it was fate. Jack always insisted on facing the door, so she heard you before she saw you. 

Jack watched as Dana perked up just as a group of girls entered the bar. Dana's head sharply turned, her eyes searching the entrance for the source of laughter. 

“No fucking way,” she smiles. “That’s her.”

“What,” both Robby and Jack say at the same time, eyes darting around trying to find you.

“In the, oh my goodness,” Dana sighs. “In the gold dress.”

She wasn’t lying, you loved your sparkles. Hell, you were a sparkle, the way you floated into the room with a blinding smile, giggling at whatever your friend just said. Your skin glistened under the dim lights of the high-end bar, your nails coming up to brush your hair away from your face. 

Dana just knew that Robby and Jack’s jaws were on the floor; she didn’t have to look back at them. In fact, she didn’t even say anything as she got up and beelined for you. 

“Well,” Robby says, eyes still following you. “I guess we know where we land with Dana.”

“Yep,” Jack agreed, eyes also following you.

The veteran’s eyes then flicked back to Dana, though, taking in the way she rushed to you. It brought a small smile to his face. It was nice seeing Dana this wound up about someone; it was about time. He also took note of you, the way you perked up when you realized Dana was there. 

Robby watches you exclaim, ‘Dana!’ Showing your excitement at the older woman’s presence, not caring who was around. Not caring how your friends look at you curiously. 

And they both notice how you wait. You wait for her to embrace you before you reciprocate, almost more enthusiastically than Dana does, holding her close and not letting go until, once again, she does first.

Robby nudges Jack, giving him a knowing look. Jack reciprocates, and when they look back at the two women, they’re shocked to find them looking right back at them. Dana whispers in your ear, pointing to the two men, probably explaining who they are.

She whispers something again, and you nod, glancing back at them and then glancing back at her. 

Robby’s eyes never leave you, his dark irises swirling with interest. That dress might be his new favorite thing, the plunging neckline showing off your assets in the best way. Your hips had this natural sway to them, rocking from side to side, exaggerated by the heels you wore. 

Jack’s hand squeezes his thigh, snapping him out of his reverie. Jack doesn’t look at him, keeping his eyes on the two women making their way over to them. But, it was a quiet warning, behave or else. 

As you got closer, the sound of your heels and voice filled their ears. You were giggling at something Dana had told you, her hand on the small of your back. Both men go to stand at your arrival, ever the gentlemen.

“This is Jack and Robby,” Dana introduces.

You smile at them, revealing one of the reasons behind your blinding smile; your teeth are decorated with intricate gem designs. 

“Hi,” Robby breathes, sticking his hand out, eyes still trained on the sparkles inside your mouth.

“Wow, you’re tall,” you let out, grabbing his hand gently, still grinning. “You probably get that all the time, though, huh?”

“Yeah,” he laughs with a nod. “You look beautiful, which you probably get all the time.”

Dana’s eyes flick to him, a flash of anger crossing her features, noticing his lingering touch. She knew Robby, frowning when a twinge of disappointment flickered in his eyes as you released his hand.

“Wow, Dana, I see why you’re so flirty all the time,” you say, a bashful expression on your face as you link your arms with her casually. “And thank you, Robby.”

Dana visibly settles, her hand resting on top of yours. Jack, still reeling, watches how you practically sense Dana’s anger. She was not kidding when she spoke of your “natural submissive attitude.” But what was really confusing him was your demeanor. From what Dana told them, you were a shy little thing. Maybe you were just good at hiding it but, to Jack, this wasn’t shy. Not even a little. 

“Okay, big guy,” Jack chuckles, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and extending a hand to you. “I’m Jack, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you squeak, placing your hand in his. “Pleasure.”

Never mind, there it was. 

“Dana has told us a lot about you,” Jack informs, fighting a shiver that radiates from his fingers. 

“Really,” your eyes sparkled at his revelation, glancing at Dana, who you were now eye-level with due to the heels. 

“Yeah,” he laughs, retrieving his hand from you. “We’ve heard all about your, what’s it called? The fitness-”

“Barre classes,” Robby cuts in, still watching you. “We’ve also heard you’re a nurse as well?”

“Yes,” you confirm, looking up at him through your lashes. “But, I chose the soft life. Aesthetics.”

“And I wouldn’t want you anywhere else,” Dana states softly, tugging at your arm endearingly. 

“Then there I will stay,” you say without missing a beat.

Jack nearly scoffs in disbelief. This is what Dana was worried about? To anyone else, you guys were practically a couple.

 “Do you guys work with Dana?”

“She hasn’t mentioned us,” Robby asks, a shocked look on his face. “Damn, I’ll say it again. Now we know where we land with you, Dana.”

“Oh, stop being dramatic,” Dana sighs, her eyes rolling. “Robby is our chief attending physician, and Jack is an attending for the night shift.”

“Oh,” your eyes wide with admiration. “And a charge nurse. Well, it seems like, with you three, I’m in good hands.”

“You have no idea, sweetheart,” Jack chuckles.

Your ears burn at his nickname. What was with them and those things? You weren’t complaining, though.

All three of them would do anything to keep you looking at them like that. Jack was just about to invite you to sit with them before your name was called. 

“I wish I could join you guys,” you start. “But, it is someone’s birthday. I’d be a shitty friend if I completely abandoned them. I’m already pushing it.”

“Oh,” Dana frowns. “Okay, well. Have fun, doll. Be safe, yes?”

“Always,” you smile, glancing at her with a hopeful look in your eyes before allowing it to be pushed down. “It was nice meeting you two.”

“Likewise,” Robby smiles. “Hope to see you again.”

“You as well,” Jack nods. 

Dana pulls you into an embrace before reluctantly releasing you. Watching, like a kicked puppy, as you return to your friends. Her eyes follow the sway of your hips before looking up at the two men next to her. She scoffs as she’s met with the sight of Robby and Jack watching you as well, Robby especially.

“Close your mouths, boys,” Dana commands, before sitting back down in their booth, a possessiveness coursing through her veins.

“Dana,” Jack starts, sliding into the booth after Robby. “I have never seen someone more interested in you than her. I can’t believe you had me and Robby feeling bad for you.”

Dana raises an eyebrow at him, taking out another cigarette as the last one burned out, long forgotten. 

“Yeah, well, tell your boy to back off,” Dana states, putting the Malbaro Silver between her lips. 

“Yeah, what was that about,” Jack asks, his green eyes staring at Robby intensely. “I’ve been pretty lenient with you recently, but maybe I need to tighten that leash again. ‘Hope to see you again?’”

“Yeah, well, with how obvious princess was with her attraction and with Dana not doing anything about it. I wasn’t sure if Dana actually liked her,” Robby shrugged. “Maybe I’ll put myself in the running.”

If looks could kill, Robby would be dead twice over. Dana watches in amusement, lighting her second cigarette as Jack silently gets back out of the booth. 

“Get your ass in the car,” Jack hisses, giving Robby the keys to his truck.

Silently, Robby takes the keys from Jack, a slight tremble in his hands as he takes them.

“Looks like you have your work cut out for you,” Dana laughs, watching as Robby practically skips out of the bar. 

“You’re not coming? You’re going to torture yourself if you stay,” Jack says, sitting back down, not caring if Robby has to wait. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jack nods. “And Robby’s right.”

Her sharp eyes snap to him.

“His delivery could use some work but, I’ve never seen someone so obvious, Dana,” Jack assures. “Both of you. It was almost sickening.”

Dana swallows at his revelation, silently processing the information she just received as she stands with Jack. She looks away, searching for your form amongst the girls you came in with. She finds you with ease, smiling when you meet her eyes. Before she could stop herself, she sent you a wink, her nervousness disguised with a smirk. She practically shivers at the face you make, shock morphing into a sort of relieved smile. You return the gesture by kissing your finger tips and blowing, revealing the lipstick mark on your fingers as you give her a small wave.

Jack nods at you and you also give him a wave before returning to the conversation you were having before. 

“See?”

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” Dana whispers in disbelief, walking side-by-side with Jack.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Jack smiles, giving her a teasing nudge as he holds the door open for her. “Now, let’s go correct Robby.”

She glances back once more. You had all of them, and you didn’t even realize it. It brought a small, hopeful smile to her lips. Jack’s shoulders relax as he sees Dana’s confidence return to her, her usual glimmer returning to her eyes.

“Let’s.”

|*|

a/n: feedback is welcomed!!!

part 2 coming soon!!! literally half way done with it

[diviniyae]

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in lieu of tumblr's new reblog feature. let's continue to support creators on this platform and keep this place as safe as possible. please consider giving feedback here. credit not needed. recoloring welcomed. feel free to edit as you need! *credits to a dear friend of mine for this idea.

[droopycoquette]

It's so important that the people who give us these beautiful works of written, drawn, other forms of art are not only credited but given their props.

[droopycoquette]

Ya'll I'm so ready for tonight!!! I've combed my bush and everything!!

[droopycoquette]

Yall, I am so ready for tonight!!! Both my wife and my husband or going to be on screen. I’m literally in my mohabbot bag rn

Let review

-shirtless Dr. Abbot

BOOM

-Dr. Abbot in uniform

His holsters are doing something to me and I WILL be writing about them

-mohabbot

My bisexual dream

-and finally, my wife looking like a snack

She’s so fucking pretty it’s not even funny

Guys, I’ve literally combed my bush for this. I’m so fucking excited

[walkin-after-midnight]

more people gotta be freak melissa king truthers i think

[effervescent-fool]

pope + text posts (part 2)

[mohabbot-enjoyer]

even the most beautiful gif set in the world could not do justice to the noises shawn hatosy makes in this scene.

[hello2heaven]

it’s genuinely absurd how gorgeous he is here

[pboogerswbb]

someone sedate me

[droopycoquette]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[pboogerswbb]

someone sedate me

[keyaho-deactivated20250925]

.chapter warnings: This entire part is CNC. If you are not comfortable with that as a kink please do NOT engage with the material. Another large kink warning for this chapter is that Terry is a Sexual Sadist his pleasure isn't coming from the act of p in v sex. This part is about his pleasure specifically and his kinks. Nami benefits yes, I guess you could say, but Terry stands ten toes on "you're here for my pleasure".

🟡 🟢 🔴 ⚫

.word count: 8k

Kinks explored: CNC, Anal, Shibari, Spanking, Choking, Primal Play, Sexual Sadism, Sensory Deprivation, Dacryphilia. Somnophilia. Terry is very chatty.

Taglist: @nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @heauxvibez @avoidthings @mymindisneverhere @eilujion @heytaewrites  @insidefeelingofanadult @captainwithoutmakingitlove  @kindofaintrovert @jimmybutlrr @beenathembo  @virgomess  @theereina @randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @megamindsecretlair 

@wabi-sabi1090 @iterum-incipi @liquorlaughslove @eilujion @taureanstargirl @mzv11@Disc0fair @prettyfilmz @simplyzeeka @heytaewrites vivaalenaa theogbadbitch @zillasvilla @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

Insertcatchynamerighthere writingsbytee pocketsizedpanther @blckblossom @solunaseira @sisinever @saturnthehumanoid @fakxmbj @beenathembo @summwerella @nubiagurlll @onherereading @harmshake @clar-ese @star017 @cocooned-butterfly @madamedantes @dezzy154 @blossom3010 @mitruscity @I-write-what-i-love @ranikyani @shurisleftearring @kyemarazack @secretlifeoofmarpessa @marshmellowtotts @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @youthfuldiatribes

.summary.: It wasn't anything Nami did to make Terry so curt with her and nothing she did could change his mood or his plans.  

Everything was pissing Terry off. He watched Nami busy herself around his kitchen. Everything. Her yellow dress wasn't right. He didn't like the straps and how they crossed in the back. He wanted her naked and he knew if he told her she would strip down for him. Yet, he didn't want that. Curling his hands into a fist he almost missed Nami walking over with a smile with their early dinner. He'd asked for the same dish she cooked two weeks ago he praised, though now he stared at the bowl of grilled chicken and roasted vegetables, pissed off. 

"Is everything okay?" 

Nami had notice his mood was off the moment he called her over. He did want to spend time with her. That wasn't the issue. Terry's eyes flickered up to Nami and then back to his plate. 

"I'm not hungry anymore." 

"Oh,' she says, slightly disappointed. “Okay, I’ll put this alway then.” 

He said nothing and she took the plate back to the stove. She found containers and stored his food in the fridge before cleaning his plate. Terry could see the unease in her tense body. 

"I think Daddy has been too nice to you." He paused. "And Sir, well, he may need some correction as well." 

The words fell on Nami like ice cold water. She didn't know what to say but she didn't like the tone of voice he was using. It was different. Off kilter and she immediately knew who wasn't here with her. Daddy had been shelved and Sir took a vacation. 

"You know what I do adore about you Nami is your auditory perception skills." He praised, but it was more of a back handed compliment from these new lips. "It keeps you one step ahead of me and I don't like that." 

"I'm not trying to be ahead of you." What she should call him still was unspoken so the air around them tingled in silence for a few seconds. 

"I'm sure you aren't." 

She could hear the chair scrape the floor as he stood up. She resumed packing away the rest of the meal she had thought they would enjoy together. She felt like he was still standing there so she continued. Only pausing when she was finished, eyes focused on his lips instead of his eyes. 

His posture was surprisingly relaxed. However, his arms were folded across his chest. His expression was unamused, lips pursed, and his eyes downcast. She realized he was sucking his teeth with a tight jaw, the gesture so unlike him. 

"But you are and that needs to be rectified. Don't you think?" He asked. 

Her 'yes' would be admitting to his statement and they both knew that. Any answer would admit it. She knew not to say 'no' because why would she lie? Nami's shoulders slumped forward slightly and she looked down at the floor. She saw his feet approach. A clean man she knew his feet were neat like his fingers. They stopped in front of her and his scent filled her nose. Smoke. Terry smelled like heavy smoke and it confused her. He always smelled clean or neutral. This scent was artificial and heavy. Intentional. Distorting. Distracting. 

"I-'

She loved his hands. She had to remember that, but when he grabbed her jaw and squeeze, Nami whimpered in pain. He tilted her head up so they made eye contact. His fingers dug into her skin so tightly she could feel him pressing against the bones in her jaw. 

"You need to look at me when you speak. That's basic respect." 

He let her go and when she began to lower her head he pushed it back up, smacking the bottom of her chin roughly. Her teeth smacked together and her eyes began to water. 

"Don't cry. I haven't done anything worth that yet." 

Terry leaned down until they were eye level. Nami, overwhelmed, lifted her hands as if was going to push him away. Ever perceptive, her Dom grabbed her by the wrists and yanked the behind her back. Holding them there in annoyance. 

"You've never come that closing to knowingly putting your hands on me. Don't make that mistake. Not tonight." He looked into her brown eyes with a glint in his own. Mischief spread through him and his lip curled upwards on one side. "You have a few minutes to let me know what you're feeling right now. Afterwards, I'm doing a refresher." 

Nami held still in his grip, her shoulders beginning to ache as he pushed upwards on her arms. They were folded across her back, but the added push kept them rigid. She winced when she tried to adjust and felt his grip tighten. 

"What's your name?" She whispered. 

Terry hummed. "Are you smart, Nami?" He replied. "Because I asked you to tell me how you're feeling and here you are asking me a question." 

Nami looked away from him. She didn't know how to navigate this situation. Being this close to him she noticed the scent of smoke grew thicker. Focusing on that she did begin to feel a little fear. 

"You're setting a dangerous precedent that you don't give a fuck about your feelings. I accept that. So I won't care either." He let out a disappointed sigh. "I'm being mean,' he says, lowering his gaze to her, "let's do this in a way you are familiar with, shall we?" 

Terry turned around and moved to the dining table. He turned around one of the chairs and plopped down into it, a smile on his thick lips. 

"Come." 

Nami took a step and froze when he snapped his fingers. "Nah, on your knees." 

"What?" She spoke, the word falling off her lips, accidently. 

"Excuse me?" 

Nami's eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her hands. "I'm sor-'

"Shut up and do what I said. That's the apology.." 

He could see her hesitation and if he wasn't pushing her boundaries what was the point? She was a little lamb, standing in his kitchen, and he was the wolf. He was ready to hunt. 

"I don't want to come get you, Nami." Terry scratched at his jaw. "You know the only way out of this." 

"I don't want out." She whispered. 

Terry clasped his hand together and leaned back in the seat. His legs spread and he made himself look inviting, though the expression on his face was hard. Nami sucked in a deep breath and as she lowered to her knees she let it out. She couldn't see him over the island that separated them, so she used the few seconds to collect herself. The floor was cold under her hands, as she moved one leg and hand at a time. She had her head back, knowing if she came around the corner with her head down, he'd say something. Or in his mood, do something. 

As she crawled around the island, she saw Terry glanced down at her. He didn't move, but his eyes followed her as she crawled towards to him. When she was closer enough, Terry wrapped a hand around her curls, twisting them into a makeshift pony tail he used to pull her up. 

"You're going to hate me by the end of the night,' he speaks slowly, his hips rising from the chair while he pushes down his sweats. "Too bad I won't give a damn." 

His dick springs free, semi-erect as he shimmies the sweats around his ankles. Nami's mouth opens instinctively, and he obliges. Guiding her head closer, he pushed the tip past her tongue, finding home int he back of her throat. Nami blinked through the gagging sensation, her hands bracing to the floor as his grip slackened. Terry slid closer to the edge of the chair, letting her stay on her hands nad knees with his dick pushed down her throat.

"We're about to go through your rules for today." 

Nami nodded, slurping sounds filled his ear as she willed herself to remain still. Terry pushed her head further down his shaft, stopping when her nose brushed his lower abdomen. He hummed and reached between them to pinch her nose. Nami's eyes shot up to him and he met her gaze, a wink followed before he released her. He watched her struggle to breath around his dick, choking and blubbering messily as she regained control of her ragged breaths. 

"The first,' he says, patting the top of her head, "you do not speak. You do not make a sound. I could be fucking you into oblivious and I better not hear it." He flicked her nose, a threat to pinch it again, and smiled when she inclined her head away from his touch. "How can you hear me if you're making all that noise?" 

Nami wanted to give a sound of agreement, but she waited. 

"Oh, see, that's selective listening." He ran his thumb around her lips, collecting some of the spit that had seeped out. "I want you active." 

Terry removed her from his dick, thick spit and drool flooded from her mouth and he used his hand to wipe it all over her face. 

"Eyes on me,' he snaps, tilting her chin up. "Two, if you want to stop then you need to use the safe word. Do you remember it?" 

Nami nodded. 

"Do you want to use it now?" 

Nami shook her head. 

"I'm not going to be gentle. I don't even care if you cum tonight." 

His hand is slowly stroking his dick, the tip pressed to her lips as he talks. Pre-cum leaks over her lips but she keeps them closed. 

"Three, follow my instructions." 

Nami watches him stand up, his dick flush in her face. He stepped around her and yanked the dress off, tossing it somewhere in the living room.  

"Crawl to the garage." 

Nami bit back the urge to whine. Her throat was beginning to ache and so was her pussy. As she crawled, Terry followed her. When she was a few paces from the garage door he landed a smack to her left ass cheek. It popped loudly and Nami's knee gave out from the strike. A heavy hand wrapped around her ankle and dragged her back through the kitchen and to the dining table. 

She couldn't hold back and the sudden strike to her skin made her scream. His hand hurt. The pressure he applied was tenfold. Terry rolled his eyes, and let out a breath through his nose. 

"Go!" 

He watched her crawl again, this time letting her hand wrap around the handle, before he hit her ass upwards, watching the recoil, the painful recoil. Nami pushed open the door, almost falling down the first stair into the basement. 

Terry snatched her by the back of the head and brought her too her feet. "Ten." 

He flips on the light and pushed Nami ahead of him. His hold on her hair tightening as she walks down the stairs. The room was cold. Along the walls were riding crops, shelves of toys, a basket of lube, and the St. Andrews cross bolted to the wall piqued her interest. There was a bed, but she was pushed to the floor in front of it. Her familiar yellow cuffs were already hooked to the bed. Terry sat in a chair he pulled from a side wall. Fluidly, he tosses Nami over his lap. He raises his hand and swings down, smacking her right ass cheek twice. 

"Acknowledge by holding up the right number of fingers." 

Her arm flew out as she flashed him two fingers. One of them she wanted to flash by itself. 

"You only had three rules. Easy,' he hissed, "and you broke one so quickly." 

Nami's played back the interaction a few moments ago. She crawled. Her body sagged into his legs.

Crawl to the garage. That was it. She opened the fucking door. 

Terry finished her punishment quickly. She was disoriented each time he asked for the count, but when he go to ten, she threw her hands up as high as they would go. Her ass wasn't the only thing burning. Terry had landed hits to the backs of her thighs as well. He pushed her off his lap and stood as she dropped to the floor. 

45. The submissive wants to feel used. 

She knew he was going to go through that list of kinks, but she didn't know if she wanted Terry to be the one to do them. She didn't want out, but her body was screaming bitch run.

"Are you ready to play?" 

She could hear chains and rattling. From the floor, she pushed to sit on her knees, and watched him. Colorful thick ropes dangled from his hands as he approached her naked form. Terry lowered on his haunches in front of her and his pursed lips looked inviting, but she knew better than to lean forward and seek him out. 

"I hope I won't spend the rest of the night putting my hands on you." 

He tipped her chin up with a finger. Again, Nami shook her head, still reeling from the previous spanking. 

"We're going to take this at a reasonable pace." He showed her the yellow ropes. "Hands." 

Nami clasped her hands together and held them out. The yellow rope was wrapped around them snugly. In his other hand was the end of a pully system that he connected the rope to. He stood and hooked the pulley back into the wall. There was a tug on the ropes as he tested he tension. Beside him was a table where he pulled a black eye mask from the drawer. It slammed shut and his silence began to unnerve her. She needed to hear his voice. It was fitted over her eyes. 

Darkness flooded her eyes. Unable to see him she didn't know where he was in the room. His scent was still smoky and heavy, this time laced with an urgency she could practically feel. She tried to listen, hear where he was, but was betrayed by the brown noise he started to play over speakers. The static sound didn't soothe her anticipation, it added to the cacophony of anxiety she felt. 

The pulley suddenly began to tug and Nami followed her arms as they were lifted above her head. When she was on her feet the pulley continued, lifting her to the tips of her toes before it stopped. She dangled there, barley touching the ground while trying to position her arms to they didn't lock up. 

A hand flattened against her stomach and she was pushed backwards. She swung a few inches as she pulled on the pulley to some stability. As she regain her position a rope was thrown around her stomach and tied. She couldn't make out the pattern, but she felt three knots going down her belly. His breathing was soft and she could feel his breath fanning against her face. Terry kissed her as he tested the tightness of the knots. He bit her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth as he pulled away. 

A heavy hand landed on her knee and pushed it towards her stomach. There was another rope, binding her leg to her thigh. It left her on one foot and she could feel the cool air between her legs, the dampness she had been trying to stifle had reared its ugly ass betraying head. His hand dipped between her thighs as he admired his work. 

"You should see how good you look." 

He circled her, his hand dragging over her sensitive skin. The ropes pressed into her. The snug binding provided the touch she was craving for a brief moment. 

"Fine ass." He breathed into her ear. "It's a shame what I have planned for it." 

She wanted him to act. 

He pulled her back against his chest. His hand crept down her stomach, dangerously close to her sex. Swatting her ass, Terry resumed being distant. She could hear ropes as they fell to the floor. A third was hooked into the knots on her stomach and she felt it being raised. Secured, Terry bought her other leg up to her chest and bound it the same as the other. The elevated open frog pose split open her slit and his greedy eyes fell to the way she was beginning to drip. He knew he was on the right track, but like her, he liked to fuck shit up too. 

He walked to the pulley on the wall that held her hands up and released it. The tension slackened so quickly that Nami anticipated falling to the ground. However, the impact never came. She had instinctively clenched her eyes shut. The blindfold reminded her she was visonless when she opened her eyes. 

Dangling from the ceiling, she was at his mercy. 

"I know you don't remember the order of kinks on the list I gave you. But I am sure you are familiar with this one, baby." 

Terry came to stand in front of her. He placed his hands on her hips and she had learned quickly how menacing his hands could be. From giving out pleasure to swatting her ass into hell, they were becoming a terror to her temperament. When he stepped between her thighs, she could feel his bulge; firm, rigid, hard against her sex. 

"Perfect." 

He steps away from her and if only she could see the grin on his lips. 

"Acknowledge with your hands." He ordered. 

Leather. 

Wet. 

Stinging. 

He struck her with a long black riding crop on her inner thighs. Nami jerked against the only rope holding her up and Terry landed a corrective swat to her side. She twisted away from the sting. 

She held up one finger, a tremble in her hand as it dropped and dangled beside her. The pull on her stomach was uncomfortable. She felt like she was being split down the middle. The crop slid down between her breast, circled her nipples before it smacked them both. Her body tried to curl in on itself, but the rope restricted the movement. 

Each his was harder than the last, she was whimpering, trying to keep the noise down, but he wasn't making it easier. It was like he was hitting her to make her make noise. He wanted her to break. He wanted to hear her, but between the pain and his unrelenting strikes to her body, Nami felt warm. She couldn't rub her thighs together, but her pussy betrayed her even further and began to leak and drip to the floor. She wasn't sure if he noticed, but she could feel her slickness sliding between her ass cheeks. 

The crop landed between her legs, stroking her cunt and coating the leather in slick. He popped her a few times, laughing slightly as she hissed between her clenched teeth. She knew he was building up to something, but the what still thwarted her. 

For Terry she was a blank canvas and the crop was his paint brush. He littered her body with hits, ignoring the way she curled way from him. It was a game then and he chased her. The crop became an extension of him and when he drew his hand back, to swat her ass for what he was sure the hundredth time, he heard it. Like her cunt, her face was leaking. Fresh tears rolled down her face as she began to grasp as the air around her for something to hold on to. She wasn't outright crying, but when he walked to stand by her head, he could see her lips trembling. Her body was betraying her. He was elated to see her reaction. It wasn't about enjoyment.

This wasn't her playtime. 

Terry grabbed her head and pulled her up, the blood rushed down her body and she instantly felt loopy. He pulled off the blindfold, her red eyes brimmed with unshed tears. 

Nami studied his face. He wasn't looking at her. He was looking through her. Terry's tongue flatted against her cheek as he licked her tears. The salty taste almost as good as what he knew her pussy tasted like. He let her go, watching her body swing towards the floor before it was caught by her restraints. 

She doesn't remember how many time he hit her but when her body was lowered to the ground and she was turned on her stomach, she knew he had. Of course he had. 

He came to a stop beside her, the crop hung at his side. His dick strained against his sweats and threatened to burst out. Not that she'd mind it. She'd much rather be choking on dick than her tears. She pressed her forehead into the floor only for it to be yanked up. 

"You stopped counting after seven. You missed the last thirteen. I'll add it to your tab. I want you to feel it." 

Terry cut the rope around her stomach and legs, though he didn't leave her unbound for long. She could hear another drawer opening and slamming shut as she laid on the floor. 

His disregard for her was hurtful as if he didn't care about how she was feeling. 

You're setting a dangerous precedent that you don't give a fuck about your feelings. I accept that. So I won't care either.

This time she was crying from his distance and not the physical distance. He wasn't here with her. She could usually read him and figure out how to lure softness from him. Terry had been keeping himself at a distance and only perused her body when he wanted to. She had been resistant to him the entire night, pushing back in hopes he would break, but the past few hours hadn't given her any reprieve. He just became rougher, testing her limits, and kept his emotions in check. He didn't seem to have any buttons to push and Nami whimpered into the floor. 

The rope was black this time as he pushed her on her stomach. Her feet were bound together first and he lifted them. The ache in her thighs and legs magnified as they fell to the ground with a hard thud. 

She saw a flash of yellow and a dress was tugged over her head. The blindfold was put back on and she was pulled up and over Terry's shoulder. His hands smacked the back of her thighs in jest. Mocking her for crying. 

"Oh, baby,' he jeered, "Daddy making you cry?" 

Nami felt the chill of the air as they stepped outside to his car. She noted the sunset, the various colors muddled together from the blindfold and the upside down position. 

"It's good for you. I want you pleading for me to let up and while your begging me for a break, I'm going to keep breaking you." His finger dug into the flesh of her ass. "I'm going to make you mourn, baby." 

A few beeps later and she was on her feet as Terry opened the trunk of the car. 

"Let's go for a ride." 

Nami lied in the trunk of Terry's car as he drove. He had given her a yellow dress, but between the blindfold and her tightly bound wrists, she didn't know what it looked liked. Each bump of the road jolted Nami around the trunk and she ended up on her stomach, her hogtied hands and feet up in the air. 

Positional restraint asphyxia, he had explained while she dangled from his basement ceiling. On her stomach, the strain in her arms and the tight space made the trunk feel even smaller. Nami laid her head down, breathing in slowly through her nose. He had taped her mouth shut and with the blindfold, she could only hear and it was driving her insane. The car came to a sudden stop and Nami rolled to her side unintentionally. She could hear his door slamming shut and the shuffle of his boots on the ground as he approached the back of the car. 

From the outside, Terry rubbed his gloved hand over the top of the trunk, patting it twice before it opened. Nami flinched from the sudden sound and she could hear Terry speaking. He unclipped her hands and feet before dragging her out of the car. He snatched off the blindfold and helped her stand up. 

"Welcome to my playhouse,' he muttered, a grin slowly creeping on his lips. 

Legs weak, Nami was pushed towards the large house. She looked around in the cover of night, eyes blurry, and saw a long path that led to the backyard. She could see tall bushes over the fence line. Terry dragged her up the steps, picking her up off her feet twice to get her up the stairs faster. There was no change in his breathing, no struggle, no pause. 

"I did what you liked,' he said flippantly, "now we'll do what I like." 

Had they done what she liked? Maybe she liked being tied, but the way he tied her wasn't what she would call fun. As her eyes began to adjust, she noted the darkness of the house. She stood in the foyer, the new surroundings heightening her anxiety for what was to come. He left her there and she looked around, taking only a few steps into the living room. 

Terry was a man starved at this point. He tasted her sweet pussy and wanted more. He needed more from her but he wanted her leaking everywhere. He wanted to choke her full of his dick. 

Like a lumberjack, Terry stalked into the living room dressed in all black. His outfit consisted of his tactical gear, a grin, heavy boots and he even had a pair in his hand. Nami stood there, the rope bruises decorated her arms and legs in red and yellow splotches, the yellow peasant dress covered just enough. As sheer at it was she might as well be naked. She much preferred that than to this. He knelt in front of her and helped her into the boots. His rough hands trailed up her legs and back down. His eyes were lustfull with pupils blown like he was on drugs. 

He stood up and pointed towards the back yard. 

"I want to see how good those skills are." He whispered in her ear. "I'm going to give you a two minute headstart. Hide from me and don't let me catch you." 

He pushed her towards the back patio door. He told her nothing about the house. It was designed by a company who specialized in primal play. The entire house was a Dom's version of paradise. The unique feature Nami pushed the door open and ran into was a maze. It was around six feet high of thick bushes. It was artificial for safety as on each wall of the bushes was a kill switch to flatten them to the ground. It was dark and the ground lighting was few and far in between. She had just enough to see. It was cool, the air a bit chilly in the temperature controlled place. Nami's heart raced in her chest as she rounded corner after corner, looking for a hiding spot. 

"Fuck,' she cursed, panting as she came to a halt at a dead end. 

She turned around, managing to slip down another pathway that led towards a fountain. She had two options to pick from and as the blood rushed behind her ears her eyes darted between each choice. 

“You’re so fucking loud, Nami, damn. You’re making this too easy.” 

Terry strutted into the area just a few paces from where she stood. 

“Come here.”

Nami took a step backwards. He shook her head, remembering the words he told her just five minutes ago. Don’t let me catch you.  

Nami turned on her heels and bolted down one of the paths. It was darker and colder in this area and she realized he set different temperatures for certain paths. Her breathing became labored as the path came to an end. Nami slapped her hands over her mouth to muffle her panting. The bushes were moving. He was running. This time he was too close to turn and go back. She could hear his heavy boots as they smacked against the ground. Nami clenched her eyes shut as his boots stopped just on the other side of the bush. She could vaguely see his silhouette as he drew closer. His boot came into her line of sight first. Then his legs. In the dark she could barely make out his features. 

“Found you,” he sings in a whisper. 

Nami takes a step back, the bushes stopping her. Her dominant reached out for her and she shook, dodging his attempt to grab her. Terry loudly kissed his teeth. 

“Don’t play with me.” 

Nami wasn’t just going to let him catch her. If he wanted to play then she’d play. Nimble, she waited for him to grab her a second time. She lifted her hands and slipped out his grasp, using the momentum, she spun and put space between them.

"Nami." 

He reached for her and curled his hand around her neck. He was standing to his full height, breathing heavy, and she dropped her weight, the sudden change causing his grip to slacken. She smacked his hand away and ducked under him. 

“Nami,” he growled. “If I get my hands-”

She didn’t wait for him to finish that sentence. Instead she ran back down the path, stumbling and detouring to the left instead of the right. These pathways were shorter, less dead ends but more curves and cut away bushes. She slipped in and out of them, panting from frustration as it seemed like she was running in a circle. 

Her chest burned as she tried to keep her breathing down. She didn’t want to make too much noise and alert him to where she was. She also couldn’t drag this chase out. He wasn’t going to let her get away so easily a third time. She could hear the frustration in his voice a few minutes ago. 

I'm going to tear that ass up! 

His voice echoed through the maze and she couldn't pinpoint where he was. 

When I get my fucking hands on you! 

Nami's head snapped up then she looked down where the lights were. His shadow stalked closer and she walked backwards. He as on the other side of the bushes, just within reach, but out of sight. Slapping her hands over her mouth, Nami tried stepping forward, but his shadow stopped. Surely, if she could see his, he could see hers.  

"Oh, look at that,' he teased darkly, "there she is." 

She pressed herself against the bushes opposite of where he stood. She side walked, hoping he couldn't see her moving. 

"There's no way to get away from me." He tsks. "You go left, I'll see you. If you take the right, that makes it easier to catch you. And Nami,' he says, his voice lowering, "when I catch you." He breathed in and let out a low moan. "That pussy is mine." 

The thrill of the chase was wearing down as his threat on her cunt was said. Though, her clit throbbed at the possibility of being touched again, but her thighs still stung from his earlier punishment. She knew this time would be worse. He planned to lay into her. The soft material of the dress rubbed roughly against her taut nipples. She was aroused in a way that scared her. 

“Come on out.” He sung. “I won’t bite too hard.” 

She had to go left. Nami kicked off the boots, they were heavy and she was much lighter on her bare feet. The thick white socks followed and she tossed them over the hedge she knew he'd look, even for a millisecond- so she B O L T E D. He was right, he would see her if she went left, but in her haste and only when she rounded the corner that she realized she ran past him. Her body flung to the left, nearly toppling to the ground as she skipped slash skidded around the corner. She was sweating at this point and she wiped her forehead with the back of her hands. Her curls were damp around her face and the pretty bow he shoved in her hair had unwoven and was half hanging on to a curl. 

"This nigga,' Nami thought to herself. 

The slight skin tingling feeling of fleeing Terry had ignited a fire in her lower belly. She dared herself and reached between her legs. Sticky. Wet. 

"Can't believe it can you,' Terry says as he approaches. "This nigga what?" He asked. 

Fuck. 

"This game was supposed to have a much……easier endgame, but you like to fuck shit up right at the finish line." 

He looked and pointed over her shoulder. 

"This is the Cave." He explained. "All pathways lead here unless I lead you out." He pulled his phone from his pocket and she figured he opened an app that changed the lighting. "Sound proof, underground." He mused. 

Nami's head snapped up. Underground? Sound proof? Terry watched her; the way her shoulder slumped forward, but he could see she was trying to remain engaged. She had no idea what she had agreed to and standing there she had no idea how she was making Terry feel. Bricked. 

The chase had awakened a piece of him he reserved for work. For training other soldiers. For when he was in the field. She was a target. His two worlds clashing in a satisfactory way and he felt the dopamine release, his body tingling with his own thoughts of filth and hard debauchery. 

He was on her in seconds, hands ripping the fabric of her dress. He pushed her backwards, the ground changing from a hard gym mat material to plush carpets and tile. The end of the maze was a bedroom, stocked with whatever the renter needed at the time. There was an ensuite as well. Terry grabbed at Nami; her waist, her hips, thighs, whatever he could as he kissed her. She was guided to the bed and pushed to the center of it. He shed the gear and she realized it was weighted. Beneath it, his shirt was drenched in sweat and she knew her body was as well. He covered her body with his own, his clothes ending up somewhere across the floor. 

"I should be fucking you right now. But instead, you made a lot of noise tonight. You had the audacity to cum when I told you not too, and you touched my pussy. You. Touched. Me." 

Naked, Terry knelt between her legs, his hands sliding around her waist. His tip brushed through her wet slit, bumping her clit with each upward stroke. 

"I mean,' he grunted, pushing in just the tip, "I know I'm going to fuck you like I hate you." He sunk a few inches deeper, his thumb finding her clit easily. "I'm going to push you to the edge, then snatch you back." 

Nami felt her mouth slide open, her jaw aching as he slid two fingers into her mouth. He pressed them to the back of her tongue as his hips moved slowly between her legs. 

"I should be fucking you like this,' he hums, accentuated his words with shallow thrusts. "But you disobeyed me." He flashed her a toothy smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm bullshittin',' he joked. 

"I was never going to fuck you like this." 

Tired was an understatement. Nami's limbs were weak, her shoulders sore, his thighs ached, and her ass felt raw. Terry had laid into her like he said he would and he she was, counting out the slaps to her ass again. 

33. 

Thirty-three. 

He added the thirteen from earlier and had been very intent on her counting each one of them. 

Nami was positon on her hands and knees while he stood in front of her, pumping his dick in and out of her mouth. Her hands dug into the bed, gripping the sheets as he rode her face. The swell of her ass was read, fifteen hits later, and he broke off to fuck her throat. Her collar, which he had taken off prior to the start of all this, was replaced with a belt that was snug around her neck. The rest of the belt was curled around his hand as he pulled, listening to her gag and struggle to breath. He reached down, pinking her nose closed before shoving his dick across her tongue. 

He pulled out and released her nose, the belt slacked and right before he struck her ass for the sixteenth time, he collected her spit and drool in his hand to use. Nami raised her hand, signing the number sixteen before her attention went back to the dick in her mouth. 

"That's it,' he coos tauntingly, 'suck my dick." 

Her head bobbed up and down as she looked up at him. His eyes were on her, focused, but didn't show any emotion or even pleasure. 

"Such a good little slut." He crooned. "This is what you're here for,' he explained. "There you go,' swallow that shit,' he grunt, pushing into her mouth and holding her still again. 

The tension on the belt was sure to leave marks, but Nami was beyond caring. There were no mirrors but when she looked at her wrists and saw the bruising, she knew her body matched. She was littered in red hand prints and rope bruises. She felt the him deep in her bones. Terry was unsettling. His voice lacked emotions. Though she understood the dick twitching in her mouth. 

Terry pulled her of, his dick falling out of her mouth with a wet pop. her mouth was flooded with spit and precum and she pooled it in her mouth before pushing it out. Terry watched it stream to the bed, creating a puddle. 

"Turn around, ass up." 

The anal plug he had neglected shone as the light hit it. He'd been admiring it all night, watching the way it was sucked in each time she clenched. Placing a hand between her shoulders, he pushes Nami into the bed as his dick slipping through her wet slit. 

He didn't ask if she was ready. His hips snapped forward and she almost slide across the bed. How could she want something and pull away from it at the same time. Her pussy was sore and swollen from his lack of attention. She was beyonce aroused. 

She feel him grab the belt against and she's pulled backwards by it. 

Ride it like hydraulics, I am such a tyrant….

One hand planted on her hip he kept her still as his thrust in-and-out while she clung to the bed on her knees. She clenched her teeth with each thrust, stomaching all nine and a half inches from the shallow thrusts. He didn't hold her for long. His hand resumed striking her ass. As if she could see him, she stretched her arm out, counting seventeen in sign language like she had when she reached ten earlier. He followed through with a few more strikes and she clenched around him. He pulled back on the belt and she gagged, tongue rolling out her mouth as she reached towards the belt. 

"Oh?" He says, his hips snapping against her so roughly he could feel his balls slapping up against her clit. "Is this too much?" 

He knew it was. Pushing her back down, he ditched the belt and held her hips. He pulled back to watch how his dick slipped in and out of her. Terry admire his own work. How he stretched her open, how he pulled more and more slit from her pussy, and how he was the cause of her drooling. The silence between them was loud, but couldn't get any louder than the sounds her pussy was making. 

"Dick makes you act right, hm?" Terry slapped her ass twice, alternating cheeks. He brought her up, and pressed his chest to her back. "You should be doing that regardless. Nothing a little correction won't fix." 

The loss of his dick had Nami searching for him again. She felt his hands as they flipped her onto her back. The bed was pulled from her neck and she reached up to touch the sore skin. Her throat was sore and when she had full control of her breathing, Nami turned on her side, erratically sucking in as much air as she could. Terry felt like a distant participant. As if the motions he was going through were robotic and disconnected from the relationship they had built. He put up a solid wall between them, encasing her in his world without letting her into his. This was more than a physical game. It was mental. He was in her head and it made her question her own reality. 

Was she really at this man's mercy?

The anal plug, in it's cute silver and yellow design, was pulled from her ass and tossed beside her head. Something was opened as the sound of a cap filled her ears. Cool and thick, lubricant was drizzled between her legs and his fingers smoothed from her ass to her clit. 

"Pussy fat as fuck,' he noted, "a fucking shame I didn't want to eat it." 

Grabbing her chin, he forced her to look at him. As he had any time he was in her face. "This is where I'm going to nut tonight,' he says as the fat tip of his dick pokes around her asshole. 

The sensation was new and she wiggled as her legs spread to accommodate his body between them. His initial push was slow, the stretch past the first ring of muscles made her hands clench beside her. This was something she wished he had bound her for. 

Nami's hands became sweaty, her legs move towards her chest as she tried not to kick him away as he pushed forward again. Inch my painstakingly thick inch, Terry seated himself in her ass. Hot and tight, he drew back for his first thrust. She didn't know how to feel. Instead, she braced her hands on the back of her thighs. Nami was well aware of how thick his dick was. She had it down her throat and stuff in her pussy like she was a Thanksgiving turkey. He felt bigger, thicker, longer, reaching parts of her that release pleasurable feelings. Feeling him in her ass was different. He stretched her open, mold her ass to his dick, and fucked her roughly. Terry planted his hands on the sides of her head as his hips rocked back and forth. 

"Nasty ass,' he hissed, spittle landing on her face the same way his sweat had. "Look at me when I'm fucking you." 

Nami knew it would come back to haunt her later, but she flattened her hands against his stomach, needing a break from the sensation of being fucked in the ass. Terry didn't stop moving, but she saw the glint in his eyes and could hear the gears turning in his head as he logged away her rule breaking for later. 

He bore down, applying more weight to his thrusts, jerking her up the bed until he had her by the headboard. Terry braced one hand on the headboard and the other grabbed Nami's hands and pinned them above her head. 

"I know you aren't running," he moaned, the sound deep and growl-like. 

"Please,' she whispered, "Terry, please, I can't….' 

His name felt foreign on her lips.

Terry ignored her please, her body twisting beneath him to get away from him egged him on. Encourage him. He let go of the headboard, balancing on his knees, before his hand struck her outer thigh. 

"Shut up." He seethed. 

It had all set in for Nami as he fucked her. His body taut and rigid as he chased his high. She could feel his dick throbbing, the stuttering in his hips as he faltered and fell forward, almost on top of her. 

Her touch triggered him and though he knew it wasn't sexual, his body treated it like it was. Her hands on his stomach felt she had unlocked his orgasm. The fire in his belly built fast, but Terry was faster. He pushed her face into the bed, his weight spread out over his hand and hips. That hand slid down and wrapped around her neck. His thumb pressed into her skin, rubbing back and forth as he chased his own high. 

Beneath him Nami was a mess. She had wrapped her legs around his waist. With no other place to put them she used them to hold on to her dom as he did Dominate things to her ass. Weeks of prep didn't prepare her for the real thing. Being rode like a horse, Nami's breathing hitched, her own orgasm nearing. Her eyes fluttered as she watched his face. The lines around his eyes crinkled as he smirked. 

"I'm a bastard I know,' he murmured. "But you like this shit,' he asked. 

Did she? Or was it the satisfaction she was chasing that she liked, because Terry? Let me chase you Terry? This fucking mean tyrant?  

"You're mean,' she breathed out, a hint of defiance in her eyes. "So mean,' she cried. 

His fingers found her swollen clit. He played with it roughly, pulling, pinching, and rubbing so harshly that Nami didn't know if she was coming or going. Her toes began to curl, back arching upwards before he slammed his hand into her chest and pushed her into the bed. It disoriented her and she lost the orgasm. 

"I think the fuck not." He shouted. 

Ice cold water pelted on her body as her eyes shot open. Nami went to move when an arm tightened around her waist. 

"Keep still baby,' Terry whispered. 

Nami tensed. She opened her mouth to protest when Terry whispered in her ear for her to relax and calm down. 

"Hey,' he says, when she beings to panic, her body shaking from his touch. 

Confusion knit through his brows as they drew together. She didn't know where she was. She just knew the person she was with probably wasn't done with her. The aches in her body detailed the night she had with her dominate. The reminders were littered all over her body. 

"Nami." 

How was she going to apologize for blacking out? 

Terry turned her around and she realized they were sitting on the floor of the shower. 

"They scene is over. I need you to look at me and take a few deep breaths." 

He held her face in his hands. The gentleness drastically different from what she had experienced that day. She didn't know what time it was. She just knew that she was overwhelmed, wired, and slightly scared. He leaned in to kiss her and she flinched. He took no offense. He knew she had to fully come down from that high. Everything he put her through wasn't normal by most standards. He pushed her to her limits mentally and Nami wasn't sure how she felt. For her their dynamic had shifted. She couldn't treat this like some one off or some once in a blue moon event. Terry had flipped her inside out. Rewired her in a way she didn't understand. He owned her body at this point.

He used her. 

"Tell me how you're feeling." 

There was still an edge to his voice. A bite he was trying to ease away. 

"I'm sore." She croaked. "I touched you. I'm sorry!" Her voice cracked and she started to cry again. "I passed out!" 

Terry was far from upset with her. He had spent the day dragging her through his ticks and the fact that she only touched him, intentionally, once was a miracle. How she was able to have that restraint when he was unrestrained on her body needed some rewarding. 

"36." He replied. "I still fucked you. I made you into my little Twinkie, twice." 

"Huh?"

36. The submissive wants to experience somnophilia. 

He ignored her and turned on the warm water. Helping her to her feet, he held her up and bathed her. Starting his aftercare while she regained some strength to stand on her own. He kissed each bruise, rope mark, and red splotch on her warm brown skin. His praise mingled with the rhythmic pelting of the shower water on the tiles. 

You did good. 

Such a good girl you were. 

Nami let her head fall back against the shower wall as he lowered to his knees. Her leg was lifted up and onto his shoulder. His mouth latched onto her clit, sucking slowly as she looked down at him. 

Those blue green eyes stared back up at her. She recognized them this time and breathed out a sigh of relief. 

"Oh, Daddy,' he whimpered. "I missed you." 

[droopycoquette]

PLEASSSEEEEE!!! This was so good!! I can't wait to read more from @keyaho

[peoniesnro]

Perfect Partner | Sequel 1

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

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre- Yandere | Dark Romance

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

Word count- 9K

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

DON'T BLAME ME

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

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

Why are you in so much pain? 

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

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

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

“Oh, you’re awake?” 

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

“How are you feeling pretty?” 

Pretty?

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

Pretty………….

Hi pretty!

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

Pretty. 

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

Stupid AI character!

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

Jeongguk….

Jeongguk…

Jeongguk…

Tattoos.

Piercings.

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

A Lip ring.

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

Piercings.

Jeongguk.

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

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

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

No. Oh God no! This isn’t happening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…………………………….

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

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

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

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

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

Princess?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……………………….

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

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

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

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

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

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

“JungKook.” He states. 

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

Oh!

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

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

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

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

A fresh sob erupts from your throat. 

You’re trapped with a psychopath. 

…………………………..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I-”

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

………………………….

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

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

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

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

Smart motherfucker!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” Questions. 

“Yes.” You confirm. 

……………………………

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

No, you shouldn’t think that way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, pretty, but no.” 

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

“Why not?” You grit your teeth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shoot open your eyes. 

What did he say? 

Again?

Always loved you?

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

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

……………………..

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, you have to at least try.

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

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

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

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

You need to fucking hurry!

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

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

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

Yes, that’s it.

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

1997

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

Password incorrect!

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

Something that’s valuable to him. 

Something he lov-

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

You!

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

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

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

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

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

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

D

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

No. That can’t be.

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

“What are you doing?” 

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

A beat passes.

You watch how his expression instantly calms down. 

That can’t be.

He gives you a sympathetic look. 

That isn’t Daebi’s number.

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

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

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

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

…………………….

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

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

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

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

You know her. 

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

Daebi!

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

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

Hoseok!

No. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

D

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

“Hello!” 

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok. 

And the line disconnects. 

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

You can’t believe it. 

But it is the truth. 

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

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

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

…………………………..

At Daebi’s place

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……………………

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

..............................................................................................................................

Taglist- @yunhoswrldddd @rjooniesdimples @ttanniett @targaryenluvs @winchesterkenzie @miniesjams32 @bookstoread199 @smokinghotstargirl @likemeforme @sunshinenmidnight

[droopycoquette]

I can’t wait to read the next part 🤩

[droopycoquette]

ur work is sooooo delicious you write sooo well ❤️❤️🤤🤤

Thank you so so much!! I know I haven't been writing a lot lately but I hope to pick back up soon!!

[weepingcoquette]

Let Me || Callum Turner x Reader

Summary: Callum just wants you to experience what he can give you

Warnings: softdom!Callum, smut, face sitting, size difference, slight dubcon(just a teeny weeny bit), 

Word count: 1.2k

|*|

From behind you, a deep hum rumbled  through your body making you feel like you were vibrating. A heavy weight settled on your ribs and warmth spread throughout your drowsy body. You could feel his breath against your bare shoulders becoming more erratic as he woke. Before long, soft kisses were being pressed into your skin and his arms were tightening around you. 

“I know you’re awake,” he chuckled deeply. 

You could feel the bass of his voice in your chest. His large body was wrapped around you like a very large blanket. His hand spreading fully, covering over your stomach. You could still smell his body wash from the night before. 

“Baby,” he groaned, placing his head in the crook of your neck. 

Met with more silence, he leaned back slightly, a pout forming on his lips. It was quiet before you felt cool air hitting your ear followed by nips on your earlobe. All your resolve wasn’t enough, it tickled too much. 

“Callum,” you giggled. “Cut it out.” 

“I knew it,” he laughed, kissing your neck and holding you close. 

You squealed out in delight as he continued kissing you, the large man overtaking you quite easily. He hovered over you, placing one last kiss on your lips before retreating. You both breathed out, slightly winded by the playful activity and needing to catch your breath. Your eyes maintained eye contact and you saw that Callum was trying to hide his eagerness, but it was like he had an invisible tail wagging.

As you continued to catch your breath your mind wandered to the promise you made him last night. That, after weeks of asking, you’d sit on his face if he beat you at Connect 4. If. 

You thought it would lay it to rest, after all, you were the best. No one had ever beaten you. Ever. Yet, if there’s a will there’s a way and Callum ended up beating you after a long 30-minute game. You were able to push it back to the following morning, though. 

And now that time was upon you. 

Your eyes trailed up to the roof, the ceiling mirror reflecting you and your boyfriend’s forms and your nervous expression. 

“Callum, I don’t know,” you sighed, your gaze returning to him. 

“You’re not backing out are you,” Callum frowned, his accent coming out a little more. “Babe, you promised. I could make you feel so good.” 

“I just-,”

“Let me make you feel good,” he groaned as he leaned down to kiss you. “Let me, my love.”

He trailed down to your stomach, nipping and kissing the skin leaving small marks in his wake. His hands flowed all over your body, caressing and gripping at your flesh. As he descended down your body, his hands and lips left a trail of red marks in their wake. The contrast against your soft skin was almost electrifying as he continued to kiss and bite his way lower. His hands roamed possessively over your curves, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Every movement was calculated and purposeful, sending a clear message of desire and need.

“Please,” he begged.

The way his lips moved against your skin was both loving and hungry. Each kiss left a faint red mark on your pale skin. His hands roamed over you with such ease, tracing every curve and dip of your body. As he trailed down to your hips, his intense gaze never left yours.

Callum's lips were full and pink, moving against your skin in a slow and deliberate dance. As he trailed down your stomach, you could see the slight red marks left by his nipping. His hands were large and lean, their movements purposeful and tinged with desire.

“Oh, my love,” he groaned into the skin of your inner thigh, his fingers hooking on your underwear and pulling down. “Please.”

You only sighed in pleasure as he continued his assault. You bit your lip, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. You were always hesitant when it came to trying new things, but there was something about the way Callum looked at you when he promised to make you feel good that made you want to trust him. Taking a deep breath, you nodded, closing your eyes and bracing yourself for what was to come.

Your heart rate increased as he pressed his face against your core, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His hands reached up and grabbed your thigh, placing it on his shoulder. He kissed your thigh towards your core but never fully touched where you wanted him. Your mind only focused on pleasure, you began to circle your hips, searching for Callum. 

“There we go,” he agreed. “Don’t think baby. Just focus on me.”

Before you realised you were straddling his hips as he kept your mind off of what was happening with firm touches and strategic kisses placed on your inner wrist. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, a mix of fear and a little excitement. 

You felt his hand and arms travel under you, looping around your thighs and pulling you up to his head. Your breath hitched as you hovered over him, heat blazing in your ears and cheeks. Gentle kisses were delivered to the inside of your thigh to comfort you. 

The warmth of his breath against your skin made your core clench in need. His fingers lightly traced circles on the skin of your butt before gripping slightly to pull you down unto him, stopping when he felt resistance. 

“Don’t fight me, my dear,” he frowned. “Let me taste you.”

You breathed out harshly trying to release your tense muscles but finding difficulty. 

“I can’t-”

“Relax,” he commanded calmly. “Let me take care of the rest. 

His thumb went back to rubbing gentle circles on your ass, going back to placing kisses on your thighs. The moment he felt tension release, even for a second, he took his chance. He pulled you down harshly, his mouth connecting with your clit causing you to cry out in pleasure. His arms bulged as he held you in place. 

The sensation was overwhelming, and you gasped his name. His hands gripped your hips as he pulled you closer to him, allowing his tongue to explore new territories. You began to grind against his face, continuing to seek out the searing white feeling he was giving you.

“Yes,” he growled into your cunt. “That’s it, use me.” 

Gaining the confidence to look at him, you shifted your gaze down, and what you’re met with almost made you cum right there. 

Callum's face was rosy with arousal and a hint of sweat glistened on his brow, his freckles standing out more prominently against his pale skin. His eyes were fixated on your now swollen and glistening pussy, almost as if he was mesmerised by it. His long dark lashes fluttered slightly as he took in the sight before him. And when he smiled, it was almost blinding, with the glint of your essence making them shimmer in the light.

“I knew you’d like it,” he whispered coyly into your cunt, his accent thick. 

|*|

A/n: Feedback is welcomed!!

[usa2024election]

Sigh...

This fucker can not win. He's demented and dangerous.

VOTE!!!

[droopycoquette]

I literally can't beg more than I'm begging right now. VOTE!!!!!!!!

[droopycoquette]

Blog Maintenance

Hey, I'm making another blog to organize my writing so if you find a fic missing it's probably on my other one. I'm going to be moving all my male fics to the other blog

LINK

This is the link to the other blog if you wanted to check it out