#(it looks smaller as a result but you can see whole thing in the corner if you're on dash)

[koushirouizumi]

(Icon Change)

[zennyshoneybunch]

Adam du Mortain x F!Detective

Disclamer: These characters do not belong to me, they belong to The Wayhaven Chronicles, an amazing interactive fiction game from #seraphinitegames. If you don't know it yet and enjoy well-written romance games, I advise you to take a look.

This is just a drabble of an idea that popped into my head during lunch time. Fluff. May contain personality/traits spoilers if you haven't read Adam's route yet.

Wordcount: 866

After everything that's happened you'd think staying in the same room as Adam would have little effect on you by now. But that is not the case. As we wait in silence for the rest of the team to join us I wonder if my living room has become even smaller since the last time I sat here. The tension and heat in the air is sizzling, merely from being in the same confined space together.

I steal a glance at Adam, standing with his muscular back to me, arms crossed as he looks intently out the window. I could never understand what he finds that is so appealing outside or if he's just always in surveillance mode. For a moment I think I caught his eyes in the glass’s reflection, but I am probably just hallucinating at this point. 

I force my eyes away from the man that owns my heart and my every thought to look back at the folder in front of me. Stifling a sigh I reach for the pen, when I catch movement from the corner of my eye, a shadow crawling on my coffee table, creeping closer and closer. I slowly look at my side and there it is. Its eight furry legs carry it a few inches closer yet before stopping, as if taunting me. 

My body paralyzes for a moment, my mind freezing at the mere sight of the horrible threat, before my legs are forced into action by springing me up and away from the table. 

The movement as well as the sound of my fumbling legs scattering me away brings Adam's attention to me. In less than two seconds he's already next to me. Not that it would take him much longer than that to cross from one side to the other of my entire apartment, even if he wasn't a super fast vampire. 

“What is wrong?” 

The obvious concern in his voice, no doubt resulting from what I can only guess is my terrified expression, makes me feel even more pathetic about the whole situation. Nevertheless I point a finger at the disgusting creature. 

“Can you… can you get rid of that, please?”

His eyes follow the direction I'm pointing at, his eyebrows lifting slightly as they land on the goddamn thing. It takes him a beat to react, but clearing his throat he walks up to the table with ease. 

“Should I kill it or set it free outside would suffice?”

My brain immediately screams for the first option, but noticing the tinge of amusement in his voice I settle for the latter. 

“Just get it away from me.”

I can't see the look on his face, but there's the slightest shake on his shoulders before he leans down to scoop the beast from the table’s surface with his bare hands - which I'm not embarrassed to admit drew a gasp from me, goosebumps erupting all over my skin at me mere thought of touching that thing. 

Adam proceeds to move to the window to dispose of it outside. Once he closes the window I realize I was holding my breath and I sigh in relief. Adam keeps staring at me with a strange tightness in his expression, as though he's trying not to smile. 

“What?” I ask, my embarrassment making me sound more defensive than I'd like to admit. 

He shrugs, eyes downcast as he slowly walks closer to me. “Nothing.”

“Well, your face doesn't exactly say ‘nothing’.”

He lets out a breath that sounds a lot like an amused huff before raising his gaze back to me.

“If you must know, I was thinking that you are the bravest, strongest woman I have ever met. And I would never have expected you to be scared of a tiny spider.”

There’s a shadow of a smile on his lips and it only makes me feel more flustered, heat flushing to my cheeks. 

“Hey! First of all, that thing was not tiny in the slightest!” 

My outburst makes his smile grow wider, the breathtakingly cute dimples appearing with the sole purpose of making my mind go blank and my heart race. It still amazes me how one single smile from this man holds this kind of power over me. And now I'm flustered for a whole different reason. 

“And… it's not fear, it's disgust.”, my voice decreases in intensity as I avert my gaze, ending in barely more than a mumble. The lighthearted chuckle brings my attention back to him, his expression is soft and his demeanor relaxed. 

“Well, then I stand and correct it, Detective.” 

The tenderness in his voice and the hidden emotion behind his eyes pull at my heartstrings, bringing back those shreds of hope I am always pushing back. We don't look away from each other, instead we smile as our obvious unspoken feelings hang around us. And it's not until we hear familiar voices growing closer that our bubble bursts and we reluctantly move away, back to our previous spots. But this time, as I look at where Adam stands by the window, I am sure I can see his beautiful green eyes looking back at me through the reflection.

✨✨✨✨✨

For this man I don't mind being a 🤡

[beauty-and-passion]

FSS3 Episode 5: Just a simple story

Nothing than a simple confrontation in the night to have a good sleep.

Updates every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

What is FFS3 - Introduction - Season 2 finale - previous episode - next episode

AO3 link for this episode

DISCLAIMER: As said in the introductory post, Fanders Sides Season 3 (season 2 finale included) could have triggering themes/scenes. Please keep that in mind before reading.

_______________________________

It’s the middle of the night, when Thomas suddenly wakes up. He glances at the window: the white light of the moon fills the room. Considering how high and bright it is, it’s probably very late.

He turns to the right and picks up his phone: three in the morning. It’s very late indeed.

When he lowers the phone, he sees Virgil staring at him one inch away from his face.

He jerks back with a strangled scream and asks Virgil what the heck is he doing, appearing just like this. He almost gave Thomas a heart attack!

Virgil doesn’t reply, but sits on the edge of the bed. He still glares at him.

Thomas asks what’s wrong and Virgil says it’s Thomas’ fault. He didn’t listen to Virgil’s advice. He promised to never let Janus or any of his friends stick around and then, not only he accepted Janus, but Remus too!

Virgil notices he raised his voice too much, so he puts both hands on his mouth and looks around. His eyes are huge, his movements quick and nervous. He tells himself everything is okay, no need to worry, everyone is asleep and he won’t call “him”.

Thomas asks what’s wrong and tries to calm Virgil down, but Virgil interrupts him. He thought that opening up to Thomas and telling him he was one of the Others would’ve made him feel better but nope, he doesn’t feel better in the slightest: his stomach is in knots, his mouth is dry and he can just blame himself, because everything has been a huge mistake from his side. He lowered his guard and not only Janus wriggled his way into Thomas’ life, but Remus too and now even Anger is out…

Thomas tries to calm him down again. He says he’s okay and things between them are okay too. In the past, knowing Virgil was one of the “dark Sides” would’ve upset him. But now, he’s starting to think that divisions between them have no real sense. Virgil was one of them? That’s fine. He trusts Virgil. He knows Virgil works with him now and not against him. He knows Remus cares in his own, weird ways and he knows that, when Remus is controlled and his ideas are filtered through Roman, he can even trust them. And he knows he can trust Janus too.

Virgil’s expression slowly shifts from hopeful, when Thomas talks about him, to skeptical when he talks about Remus, to scared when he talks about Janus. He immediately tells Thomas that no, he cannot trust Janus. He should never trust him. Janus is a manipulator, he knows things he purposely hid from Thomas. He did things he’s still hiding from him.

Thomas asks Virgil what is he talking about, but Virgil can’t tell him: some things are a secret and, when Janus wants, he can keep everyone’s mouth shut. His included.

Well, Thomas replies, but if I want to know something I can know it, right? So, he orders Virgil to tell him.

Before Virgil can talk, Janus appears near the bottom left corner of Thomas’ bed. He tells Thomas he should sleep and not ask for answers in the middle of the night. Thomas insists: he wants to know and he wants to know now. What did Janus do behind his back?

Janus gives a blaming look at Virgil and says he did nothing, but Thomas keeps looking at him, waiting for the truth.

Janus sighs, then he starts with a convoluted explanation about how everything gets much smaller and much more complicated, every time you look at the details. That’s why “the devil is in the details”: because it’s the perfect place where the smallest threads and rules can be bent and distorted. And if you look too much into it, you start to question your whole life. Has everything happened by chance or was it the result of reasoning? Was the change random or wanted? And what’s best for you? To know that or to live in blissful ignorance? Maybe, sometimes, the solution is ambivalent and denial is what connects them. Because the line between denial and knowledge is very thin and denial in itself can be considered a form of knowledge.

Thomas doesn’t understand a single thing, so he asks Janus to stop and just tell him what he did.

Janus takes another long breath and starts again. By now, Thomas knows that he’s not just Deceit.

Thomas nods.

And he knows Janus hides things, information and even Sides from his conscious mind.

Thomas nods again.

However, these hidden Sides are not unknown from the entirety of Thomas’ mind. Deep down, he has always been aware of their existence and he knows who they are. Just look at what happened today: you recognized a Side, despite never meeting him in person.

“Anger”, Thomas murmurs.

So, even though your conscious mind is not aware, you still know who your Sides are. However, they do not have permission to show up to you. And Janus, as their guardian, does not have permission to show them either. The only permission he got from the mind was to hide these Sides: that’s what the mind wanted and that’s what he did.

Okay…, Thomas replies, a bit worried. What went wrong, then?

Nothing went wrong, Janus answers. The system was perfect. It would’ve stayed the same forever, if I didn’t do anything.

Thomas’ worry becomes fear.

What did you do?, he asks.

Janus sighs again. Long ago, he realized that Thomas would never become an adult, if he didn’t acknowledge and accept all of his Sides. He needed to meet them, understand them and realize how useful they are.

But Thomas kept hiding them. He still didn’t want to deal with them. And so, Janus used a loophole.

Thomas is confused: what loophole? Wasn’t the system perfect?

Janus explains that, as guardian of the hidden Sides, he didn’t have any permission to show himself as well. He was a hidden Side too. So, when he tried to talk to Thomas face to face, he had to do it by using another Side’s appearance. Patton’s appearance.

So what happened when Thomas realized this guy wasn’t Patton and asked what was going on? What did the other Sides tell him?

Thomas reminds Roman’s words from CLGB: “You have to give us permission first”. His expression changes, as he starts to realize.

You gave me permission to show myself, Janus explains. And, since I was the guardian of the hidden Sides and a hidden Side myself, I used that permission as a pass and gave it to the Sides beneath me.

This is why Remus was free to introduce himself without permission. And this is why Anger did it too.

But that’s not all, Virgil adds immediately. Once they took the chance and showed themselves, they both strengthened their position, by making Thomas acknowledge their roles and existence. Remus even gave his name, so Thomas accepted his existence as a whole and now he’s free to do anything he wants.

And now that Thomas acknowledged Anger’s role, he gave him permission to do the same: now Anger can appear whenever he wants and do whatever he wants. He’s not bound to permission anymore.

And if Virgil was okay with Remus because, at the end of the day, he’s just a very gross Side, Anger is another thing entirely. He’s dangerous, impulsive and out of control. And Thomas just acknowledged his existence - and he did it without knowing what he was doing, because Janus let Anger introduce himself without Thomas’ approval!

Thomas is shocked. He looks at Janus and asks him why. Why doing this to him? This doesn’t help him at all! It just makes everything worse!

Janus leans forward, his voice gets softer while he asks Thomas to trust him. He knows what he’s doing and he knows it will be painful for Thomas. But he also knows this is all necessary, for Thomas’ growth, for his happiness and for his future.

But Virgil doesn’t buy it. He crosses his arms and tells Thomas to not trust his words. He should not make the same mistake Virgil did.

Janus’ gaze moves to Virgil. After all these years, the devil is still in the details, isn’t it? But Virgil cannot stop changes. Changes happen and will always happen. This is why Janus exists: to guide Thomas through them and protect him.

Protect him?, Virgil replies. How? By constantly lying and deceiving?

Janus snaps and accuses him to stop pretending he doesn’t know the importance of lies. They are not just false information, but means of protection. Lies are a way to save a conversation, spare other people’s feelings, keep good relationships. Sometimes, the truth is just too harsh and it needs to be softened with the help of a little lie. And Virgil knows that very well, considering he let Janus use lies for years.

It’s because he was desperate back then, Virgil admits. He thought he would’ve always been just a villain. He thought Thomas would never accept him like he accepted the Core Sides. He thought he had to work in the shadows forever, with Thomas’ scorn and hate as his only reward. And so, since Thomas would’ve never seen him as a good guy, he would’ve kept acting like a bad guy.

You weren’t a bad guy, Janus replies. You were a fighter, you were strong and you were honest. Now you’re the liar and you pretend to be better than you are.

That’s not what you said, when I told you I wanted to work with the Core Sides, Virgil says.

That’s not what you said either, Janus replies.

A silence falls between them, but it’s heavy and full of unspoken things. Thomas shifts his gaze from Virgil to Janus, but neither of them resumes talking.

In the end, Virgil gets up and just says he’s on his own side now. He works alone and, if necessary, he will protect Thomas from them all by himself.

But before he gets up and leaves, Thomas grabs him by his arm: he cannot leave, not like that! They clearly have something going on and he wants them to solve it now.

However, Virgil refuses. He says Thomas cannot order him to do this, because it doesn’t involve him at all.

Janus, on the other hand, says that it’s just a very simple story: Virgil asked him to leave and, once he did, he cut ties with them. All of them.

Thomas is very curious and opens his mouth to ask a question: Virgil takes advantage of that small distraction and leaves before Thomas can stop him. Thomas tries to call him back, but Virgil does not appear.

He turns to Janus, who is still sitting at the edge of his bed. He notices he’s quite stiff and his hands are balled into fists. He’s hiding some emotions and it’s clear the whole issue is not just “a simple story” as he said. But, before Thomas can console him somehow, Janus gets up, tucks him back into bed, tells him it’s late and that he should sleep.

The last thing Thomas sees is Janus getting up in the penumbra, wishing him goodnight and disappearing. Thomas is left alone, tired and confused.

_______________________________

END CARD

Janus is standing in front of a closed door: the spiderwebs identify it as the door of Virgil’s bedroom, so we know he is in Virgil’s room.

Janus says this is what growth leads to: no one can reach full knowledge of themselves, without going through some pain. That’s how life works, that’s how it has always been and will always be. Denying or opposing changes would just lead to more harm and pain.

He waits, but the door is still closed. He says he hopes Virgil will at least understand this. Then, he leaves.

Once he leaves, the camera shows us Virgil on the other side. His back is against the closed door, his arms are crossed and his expression shows anger and frustration: it’s clear he listened to everything Janus said.

However, once Janus leaves and silence falls on the other side of the door, Virgil’s expression shifts from anger to pain and he lets himself slide down. The last scene is him sitting on the ground, silently sobbing with his head hidden behind his hoodie.

_______________________________

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Soooo…

First of all, we had to talk about the moment Virgil revealed to Thomas he was “one of them”, because in canon they never addressed that anymore. It was time to close it.

Then, we have the first crumbs of information about the story between Virgil and Janus. This is something the fandom craves to see, so it needs time to be built. And I didn’t want to shove it in full into one episode only: it would be boring and bad, so here are the first bits of information and more will come along the way.

Also, references about Virgil’s past: yep, they will appear too. After all, Virgil’s drastic change from sarcastic bitch to his post-acceptance self is just too drastic to not require someone to address it. And now all dark Sides are here, so it’s unavoidable that Virgil’s past comes back to face him.

About the permission thing: if you read my analyses, you know that the whole idea is something I got from CLBG. But, honestly, that connects so many things and explains so many others… I couldn’t help but use it. It’s perfect to justify what Janus did, why and how. And it works in Virgil’s favor, because he said to not trust him and see?, he shouldn’t be trusted. It adds a bit of an additional obstacle - which is always necessary and fun ;)

( Support me on Ko-fi )

_______________________________

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[niemernuet]

Where's that post about tumblr moots gracefully ignoring it when you're going through another unhinged phase when you need it? Anyway, thanks for letting me exist.

Rating: E pairing: Franjo von Allmen/Arnaud Boisset characters: Franjo von Allmen, Arnaud Boisset length: 1'500 words warning: pwp

Probably the biggest irony in life is how little a person can really learn from someone else’s experience. Arnaud remembers Justin’s bitterness a few years ago. He was still sitting at the kids’ table at the club championships then, sipping at a sickly-sweet ice cooler while across the room the older members stacked empty wine bottles as high as they could.

“Nobody fucking cares. They say they do, they promise they’ll look out for you when you come back, but it’s all a lie. You’re forgotten as soon as you’re out of their sight.”

Back then, Arnaud was at the very beginning of his career, done with school, armed with impressive results from youth championships, and ready to take on the whole world to fight for his place. He would not turn out like Justin.

Silence falls over the small garden of their chalet as the rest of the team disappears one after the other. Arnaud has pretended to follow them inside but now he stops by the door, and looks out into the night again. The bottle of beer in his hand is empty, the condensation on the glass has long since dried. When he leans against the weathered wood of the house he can feel the crinkly foil move in the pocket of his jeans. 

And now that Justin is singing an entirely different tune and is literally the life of every party, Arnaud finally agrees with his assessment from back then. People don’t care, especially people who hold your future in their hands. Sport is a business, and at the end of the day who you know matters more than what you do. 

Of course, Arnaud’s personality prevents him from shouting the anger in his heart from the rooftops; unlike Justin he bottles up his rage. He hides behind a shield of easy composure and good-natured humor, even as he prepares for another year on the second rung with only empty promises for the future.

In the house, someone turns off the light in the kitchen, dousing the patio where Arnaud is standing in darkness. Only further ahead the light shining out of the open windows on the first floor illuminates the sickly grass. Ralph is calling his family, his voice sometimes closer, sometimes further away as he walks through his room. A TV is babbling faintly from somewhere.

Quiet steps approach from the living room, and come to a halt at the threshold. Arnaud can see the bright smile even in the almost-darkness, the corners of his mouth that turn upwards as if drawn by a child, and the eyes that form two mirthful half-moons. 

“Not tired yet?” Franjo whispers.

They have been exchanging looks all week long, furtively in the beginning but soon unashamedly frank. Arnaud knows the weight of these hazel eyes by now, and even though they have known each other for five days he understands when he is happy or tired, or scared like now. Slowly he pushes away from the wall, and puts the bottle on the table in front of him. He does not have to speak, barely has to extend his hand for Franjo to step outside. They are equally tall but Franjo’s shoulders are hunched, and the almost palpable mixture of fear and excitement makes him seem smaller than he is. His breath hitches when their lips touch, and Arnaud follows him as he flinches backwards. Everything about Franjo screams of inexperience, from his palms awkwardly resting against Arnaud’s chest to his lashes fluttering down on his cheeks as he checks again and again whether he is doing things right. 

He is as young as Arnaud was when he listened to Justin’s rant that did not concern him in the slightest. Back then nothing could have made Arnaud admit fear to anyone, not even to himself. A small part in Arnaud’s brain realises it is up to him to recognise when he is going too far but that job gets exceedingly difficult with every flinch, every breathless sigh falling from Franjo’s lips. Arnaud’s kisses are sloppy, his tongue darting over Franjo’s mouth and between his teeth because he just cannot get enough of him, not after that long week watching Franjo in all states of exertion and tight clothes. A first sound, high and barely audible, escapes Franjo when Arnaud’s hand grabs his chin, steadying his head and guiding his movements. He can feel the foil crinkling in  his pocket again when Franjo pushes him back against the wall, and the need pooling in Arnaud’s groin almost sends him to his knees. He needs to bend Franjo over the table and disappear in him entirely, he needs to explore every square inch of Franjo’s body with his lips, he needs to hear more of Franjo’s soft, breathless moans, he needs needs needs.

Above their heads, Elian suddenly bursts out laughing at something, and Franjo jerks out of Arnaud’s touch. His voice is close as he asks whether he should leave the window open. Gilles’ answer comes from deeper in their room, barely more than a soft rumble, and after a few moments, the aged hinges of the window creak as it gets tilted until it rests half-open. Arnaud grins, the rush of excitement surging through his body, and he keeps grinning as he steps to Franjo, and pins him against the table. He takes his head between his hands, losing himself in the big, pleading eyes staring back at him.

“Arnaud, we…” Franjo begins but Arnaud silences him with another kiss.

“Shh,” he whispers, their lips still touching. “We can’t let them hear.”

Another kiss to swallow the choked grunt as Arnaud grinds against Franjo’s rock-hard erection. His eyes are blown wide and as round as his mouth when Arnaud plants the lightest of kisses on his lips, the still obvious fear drowned out by the overwhelming need for Arnaud to go on.

“Quiet now!”

Franjo clings to the edge of the table, his knuckles as white as the stars above them, when Arnaud falls to his knees, and pulls his sweatpants down. His thighs quiver under Arnaud's touch, the muscles taut and protruding, and his dick has leaked dark patches through both layers of fabric. It is still flowing when Arnaud pulls his pants down, and when he rubs his thumb over the head and spreads the wetness all over his shaft, and when his knees almost buckle and the empty bottle on the table topples over.

“Sshhh!” Arnaud giggles, his hands wandering from Franjo’s thigh over his hips and further to his hand clamped to the edge of the table. Franjo is breathing heavily through his nose, and biting down hard on his lip.

“Touch me!” Arnaud whispers, and taps his finger against his unmoving hand. “Come on!”

Slowly, as if under great agony, Franjo manages to unfurl his hand, and Arnaud guides it until it is buried in his hair just right. With a satisfied hum he takes Franjo in his mouth and runs his tongue over the leaky spot. Franjo groans, short and low, the grip around Arnaud’s hair gets tighter, and his hips jerk forward. Arnaud swallows the warm, salty liquid pooling in his mouth, relaxes his jaw to take all of Franjo, and sucks eagerly as his dick hits the back of his tongue. Above him, Franjo is hunched over, the hand gripping Arnaud’s head following his movements with just the tiniest bit of force. Low grunts escape from his throat and he is panting heavily now, his mouth hanging open.

“Arnaud…” he whispers. “Fuck…”

Arnaud hums again. Franjo’s dick is heavy and large in his mouth with still enough left to wrap his hand around the bottom, and the thought about all the things he will do with him once they have more time and more space makes his own abandoned cock twitch. It does not take long, not with a barely twenty-year-old and Arnaud’s skills, before Franjo falls over the edge and with a choked moan comes in spurts. Arnaud swallows eagerly around Franjo’s dick until he pulls back, and slumps against the table. A thin thread of drools keeps connecting them, and Arnaud grins when Franjo, still heaving, wipes his thumb over his wet chin. Slowly he rises from the ground, pressing their bodies together once more even as Franjo flinches back from Arnaud’s lips and the remains of his own spunk in the corners. He grabs Franjo’s hands from his waistband, and holds them by the wrists.

“Not tonight,” he whispers hoarsely against Franjo’s cheek. “Once I’m done with you, you’ll be in no shape to get back in a room with Lars.”

Franjo shudders but grinds his hips against Arnaud’s aching dick. “He’s asleep by now, he won’t see me.”

Arnaud snorts softly, combs back the long strands of Franjo’s bangs back, and plants a kiss on his temple. 

“When you hear the shower through the walls in a few minutes, just know that I’m thinking of you.”

Franjo stays glued to the table when Arnaud leaves him, and feels his way through the dark living room. The wrapper in his pocket crinkles again when he climbs the stairs. He runs his fingers over the smooth foil. There will be plenty of time to use it still.

[lunarsilkscreen]

Why are Cigarettes and Alcohol on every corner store but not other drugs?

And Caffeine and workout supplements disguised as energy beverages. And over-the-counter medication.

You know; despite those things carrying the negative stereotypes of being stupid and/or angry.

Many times has the argument been made that it is *more* profitable to fix the symptoms and not the disease.

Yet nothing really seems to change as those arguments fall on deaf ears.

So what is the difference between *hard drugs* and *soft drugs*?

Well Drugs like Marijuana have a tendency to last longer than other drugs. And not only does it last longer; it has the ability to compare a person's thinking.

This is one of the reasons the Military suggests that it's members abstain from all drugs *except* alcohol.

If you drink too much alcohol you might be hungover the next morning. But if you eat a whole hashbrownie; you could be down for several days.

This is also why Doctors tend to avoid giving opioids like Oxycoton to younger individuals. And just letting them suffer on ibuprofen after a major surgery or getting their wisdom teeth taken out.

This is rivaled by Fentanyl. A synthetic opioid. Which is super-effective in very small doses, and being easy to carry disguised as one of those "Do not Eat" oxygen absorbed packets you might find in a pill bottle.

This means it's all but impossible to stop a person from smuggling a large amount. No longer do they need to carry the comically large "Bricks of Cocaine" we see across our screens in buddy cop movies.

One pill of pure Fentanyl has hundreds of doses. And would probably be fatal if you swallowed it. So our current war on drugs just can't keep up.

And this all circles back to the *More profitable to treat the symptoms* thing above. Motrin, Advil, and Tylenol are a billion dollar business. And while we won't see them go away; they do ensure that their over-the-counter drugs will be able to find their studies into better drugs.

Which we haven't seen in many many years. So how effective is all that R&D really? (Research and Development) It's not like brand name drugs work better than generic anyway. They're the same drug, with maybe time-release effects.... Which we've had for about a hundred years already.

Nothing new.

Because of the nature of home grown drugs; that is we don't use them in small enough doses to avoid that *high* that people are looking for.

We have no idea how to use them in the same ways we use blood-thinners and Motrin.

Not only that; Because of the illegality of schedule-1 Drugs; illegal drug business had been working to make drugs smaller and easier to smuggle for generations and generations. Resulting in Fentanyl in the first place.

This is why hash-brownies are so strong today.

Different marijuana strains can be like Apples; Granny Smith for pies, Honeycrisp for sweetness, generic red for sauces.

But we've grown towards the cyanide equivalent. Cyanide is in every apple seed. And it's poisons that we consider lethal AND to serve that high and painkiller effect were want in those drugs.

So an Apple equivalent of marijuana today would just be one big Seed with lots and lots of THCs.

Note; cyanide *will* kill you. Do not eat it.

But again; marijuana can have painkiller, stimulant, and that high effect(s).

This has come around *because* of the war on drugs. There isn't a way to get *just a little bit* of an effect like we see with sweet and sour Apples.

And since that single fentanyl pill can be hidden anywhere without detection. No smell, can't scan for it... Near impossible even if we take planes completely naked.

Not without a fascist state anyway.

[hasufin]

On the subject of old growth trees and colonialism...

The colonization of the Americas came at an interesting time for woodworking, and there were some odd results.

Okay, to begin with, by that point Europe had largely cut down all its old-growth trees. Mostly they were used to make charcoal, which was thereabouts the only fuel source you could use for blacksmithing until they started mining coal. Charcoal product was a large and exceptionally unglamorous industry. And what remained of Old Growth was being used for another purpose: ship masts. You can make wooden ship hulls out of smaller, younger (relatively speaking) trees, and you don't have to be as picky about the type of tree. But the mainmast especially has very high requirements. And by the time they were putting unwanted Europeans in the Americas, those requisite trees were in short supply. They were, in fact, a strategic resource: how many masts you could produce dictated how many ships you could build.

Which made the Americas pretty special. Because suddenly they had access to ALL THE TREES. And they did literally go through the forest marking trees which were suitable for mainmast production. Supposedly in parts of New England you can still find a few trees so marked, but I've not seen direct evidence of that.

But there was a concurrent issue. See, none of the colonial powers really wanted their colonies to be able to be independent. Even the English, who were moderately more inclined to allow industry compared to, say, the Spanish, had strong restrictions on things like making metal tools. Most metal tools in Colonial America were imported. Which meant you ended up with some odd things, like wooden shovels - not just the handles, I mean the heads too. You'd break to soil up with a metal-headed pick, and scoop it up with a wooden shovel. For obvious reasons relatively few examples have survived.

Moreover, skilled carpenters were not common among the colonists. After all, they were valued tradesmen and could make a fair amount of money where they were.

This led to two characteristic forms of American construction: log cabins and balloon framing.

Log cabins are... not the pretty Lincoln Log things. But you could make them with wooden mallets and only a few metal tools. You didn't even need nails (an expensive commodity at the time) if you put on a bark roof with locust thorns. Thing is, log cabins are wildly wasteful of wood. You know, because they're using whole logs rather than cut planks, because saws are expensive and in short supply.

In somewhat more settled areas, you got balloon framing. And bear in mind, that took a lot longer to happen than you might think - the first frame construction house in the state of Illinois was built in 1837. Prior to that they were all either stone or log cabin. Mostly the latter.

Anyway, balloon framing. Remember, not many skilled carpenters? And nails are expensive? At the time, building construction typically required some pretty skilled joinery to use relatively short pieces of wood and hold up well. America did not have very many people who could do that... but it didn't need to, because what it had was really big trees. Rather than join a bunch of short planks, they'd just make the whole length out of the building out of single planks of wood which stretched the entire way. Don't have to join when it's one piece! Meaning the houses looked like balloons, with empty interior space.

And that's basically how it was up until, oh, WWI or so. These methods continue to inform American construction, which defaults to using long pieces of lumber rather than other options. Now, this doesn't - in spite of what some underinformed people like to claim - make for bad construction: wooden framed houses fare better than masonry in Earthquakes, and if build properly can be quite energy efficient. (It is, however, increasingly common to see builders cut corners, especially with tract homes which become the most common type of residential construction after WWII).

Anyway, TL:DR is that largely due to historical reasons the USA's home construction tradition leans very heavily on wood and mostly lost the skills to utilize shorter pieces of lumber, to the point that now we use "engineered" beams because we can't get the 40+' long beams we used to use.

These things are made of garbage and glue and they want to charge this much for them??? Seriously considering just buying some real wood and making it myself. We tolerate this chipboard crap BECAUSE IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE INCREDIBLY AFFORDABLE.

[mctreeleth]

Here it is! The instructions to make a pieced and quilted plague doctor mask!

Just as a heads up, this pattern is not really recommended for beginners. There is not a whole lot of explanation of the basic techniques, and it requires a fair bit of precision, two types of fusible interfacing, and an assumption that you can keep a consistent seam allowance and do some hand sewing and know when to sew things right sides together and such.

I am not promising anything, different methods will yield different results, I have never made a pattern exactly as it was written and neither should you. If you want something the same as the next person, go to the shops.

Actually, nevermind, this is a quarantine craft, stay home.

There are two ways to do the piecing for this project. The first is a quilting technique called English Paper Piecing, there are plenty of tutorials online, but it is done by hand and I do not have the patience for it. Still, if you have the time but not the machinery, it is probably your best option for a very good finish. Cut the pattern net out of card, glue the bits onto your fabric, sew them up, pull them out and add interfacing after. I sewed three hexies together once and got bored and gave up.

The method I actually used involves my favourite cheat for sewing: you can use an inkjet printer to print on non-woven fusible interfacing! There are ridiculously overpriced pre-cut packs available, but also you can just cut up some midweight to the right size. I just have a boring old Epson printer, and I can get away with just putting some scotch tape along the edge that feeds in for a bit of stability. Alternatively, depending on the brand, you can “fuse” it onto some non-stick baking paper, cut it to size, and then peel it off without losing too much adhesive. (My pictures look a little different because my original A4 version fits on the page differently than the shared version)

Printing onto interfacing means I know my dimensions are perfect, and I have the markings on the pieces so I know what joins to what. If you only have a laser printer, or your inkjet hates you and wont let you print on interfacing, I still recommend using fusible interfacing for structure and precision piecing. You will just need to keep a lot better track of what is what, because the pieces are all slightly different and they only go together one way.

The actual “pattern” for this project is a geometric net. I highly recommend making one in paper or cardstock first, because we all have different sized heads.  As with most quilting projects, it will generally get to be a little bit smaller again once it is all sewn together, so keep that in mind.

This is a link to the PDF on Google Drive. It is a 4 page document, for printing on US letter size. There is enough space around the pieces that it can also print onto A4 paper: the one inch square should measure 2.5cm. Similarly, the extra space means it can be scaled up a bit before any gets cut off, if you have a particularly large face.

(Edited to add: if you were going to make this in a single fabric rather than pieced together patchwork pieces, I have uploaded a simplified version of the pattern, which has more curved seams which are easier to match. The technique is otherwise the same, but note that these patterns do not have seam allowances - you will need to add them when you cut your fabric so that the pieces match.)

The body of the mask is made up of two mirrored (four total) pieced together bits, plus some circles to go around the lenses. There are two mirrored top pieces, and two mirrored bottom pieces. The top pieces are numbered 1-14, and are split over two pages and need to be joined together. The bottom pieces are lettered A-H. On one side of the pattern the numbers and letters are circled, so you know which side you are working on. There are also small dashes in the corners of the pieces; single dashes connect to single dashes, double dashes connect to double dashes. At the parts that become the edges of the eye holes, there are little dots at the end of the dashes.

Even if you are printing onto interfacing, you will also need to do a paper printout, as it will be used later as a pattern to cut the batting and the lining. The paper printout can also be used to work out your fabric placement, if you are going for a certain look (again, this one was printed as an all in one A4 sheet, but it works the same).

Cutting the Patchworked Outer

If you have managed to print onto fusible interfacing, all you need to do is cut the pieces. Otherwise, do what you need to trace the pieces onto interfacing, making notes of where they go and which sides align to what.

Once you have your interfacing pieces cut and organized, fuse them to your fabrics with at least enough room between and around them for seam allowances on each side.

I use a 1cm seam allowance, but feel free to use a quarter or half inch if that is what you are used to.

Trim all the pieces to have a consistent seam allowance.

Lay the trimmed pieces out on the paper printouts. This will let you know if there are any pieces missing, or any parts where fabric duplicates might share a seam.

Piecing the Patchworked Outer

First, piece together the nets of the bottom pieces. Put a straight pin straight through at the corners of the interfacings of two neighboring pieces, so they are perfectly aligned. Then angle the pin on the right hand side so it comes back up along where the seam will go, and angle the one on the left so that it is going across.

Sew along the edge of the interfacing, aiming for just alongside of it, not on it.

Finger press the seams open, then repeat until all the pieces are together.

The technique for the top pieces is the same, but at any join which ends at an eyehole (marked on the pattern with a black dot on the ends of the dash), backstitch at the end of the interfacing, so that it won’t pull apart at the edge. The seam allowance at this part will be cut off, so it needs to be secured before that point to prevent it from pulling apart.

Batting and Quilting

Properly press all the pieces, with the seams open.

Using the paper pattern, cut out two mirrored top and bottom pieces from fusible batting.

Iron these onto the inside of the pieced parts, so that their edges line up with the interfacings. In my experience, the best way to iron on fusible batting is from the right side, so I pin them in place and flip them over, iron a little bit so they barely stick, pull out the pins, and fuse properly.

Do some quilting. I just went 5mm to the side of every seam, because the next lot of seams need to be topstitched in the same way, and I like the consistency.

Assembly of the Patchworked Outer

Join together the gap in the top pieces. The batting was aligned to the interfacing, so the technique is the same.

Press the seams apart and topstitch the seams to either side.

Trim off the excess seam allowance around the eye holes to the edge of the batting and interfacing. this was why we needed to backstitch earlier.

The next step joins the top and bottom pieces together. The bottom piece attaches to the more curved edge of the top piece - that last seam that was joined after adding the batting will meet these side seams, angled towards the tip of the beak. Sewing the sides is the trickiest bit to do on the machine, so, while I would normally say basting is for cowards, if you want the points to match perfectly, this is a time when pinning will not really cut it. I just hand sew through each point where the seams join, go back through a couple of threads over, and tie it off. 

Then I put pins through the longer seams.

When sewing it with the machine, try to keep the lines as straight as possible, making turns only at the seams where you put a basting stitch.

Once both sides are sewn, press the seams open and topstitch to either side.

Repeat this step for the top centre seam. You can just pin baste this one if you would rather, because the angles match, but it is literally right there in the middle where everyone can see it, so if you are not confident in matching points, baste it.

Press the seams open and topstitch.

The technique is the same for the bottom centre seam, but topstitching all the way to the tip of the beak is not possible, so you will have to do the last bit of top stitching by hand.

It doesn’t matter so much if it is a bit messy, because it is not in a place where it can really be seen, but spitting the seam will help it hold its shape more nicely.

That is the pretty outside bit done.

Making and Attaching the Lining

To make the lining, use the paper pattern to cut two mirrored pieces of the top and bottom pieces, with whatever seam allowance you prefer.

The gap on the top piece will have a maximum possible seam allowance of about a quarter inch, but this is enough for a secure internal seam. The eye holes do not need a seam allowance.

Sew together the gaps in the top pieces, then sew the top seam of the top pieces and the centre seam of the bottom pieces together.

Open up both pieces and sew the sides together. You should have a lining piece that is a floppy, boring version of the outside piece.

I have not included a step for how to make a strap, because everyone has their own preferred methods, and there are plenty of alternative options. If you don’t want to worry about making strapping you can use ribbon or elastic, or put a small loop there to thread something through afterwards. Whatever the choice, pin to the centre of the back edges of pattern pieces #10, facing towards the eye holes.

Put the lining piece, facing right side in, over the pieced outer and the strap pieces and pin around the edges, lining up the four seams of the lining with the seams on the outer.

Sew around the edge.

Turn the piece right side out through one of the lining’s eye holes. You just sort of pull the pieced outer (which is currently inside) back a bit, until the tip of the beak can come through an eye hole, and then try to pull it through as gently as possible so that the raw edge of the eye hole doesn’t get too stretched and frayed.

Then push the lining back into the pieced outer body of the mask.

Pin around the edge, so that the lining is all tucked neatly inside.

Top stitch over the edge.

Eye hole time!

Pin the outer and lining together in the eye holes, and top stitch about 4mm (1/6th of an inch) from the edges. Trim any fraying bits.

Hand stitch 1 inch wide bias binding to the inner edge of the eye hole, just over the top stitch.

Flip the bias binding through the eye hole to the outer, fold the raw edge of the bias binding under itself, and hand stitch it down to the outside. Repeat for the other eye.

This next step is the worst bit, and if you have another method, go for it. Theoretically you could use something thicker that wouldn’t fray, like a felt or leather, so that you didn’t have to worry about lining the eye holes, but it depends on the look you are going for.

Cut out four circles from fabric, two of the biggest size, two of the medium size. Draw the smallest size circle in the middle of the back of the medium sized circle, and stack it on top of the centre of the big one, right sides together. From the fusible batting, cut two donut shapes of the medium size with the smallest circle cut out of the centre.

Using very small stitches, sew around the small circle drawn on the medium sized circles. Fuse the donut of batting to the back of the large circle, with the inside of the donut matching the sewn line. Cut an even smaller hole out of the middle, so that the seam allowance that remains is a slightly smaller width than the batting. Clip this into at least 12 pieces.

Press the smaller circle towards the centre, so that it can be turned in though the hole. 

This will take a lot of careful ironing and pinning. Let it sit for a bit, so that it learns to be there.

Then unpin it, but hopefully the little clipped bits will stay there. Fold the bigger circle down over them – you will need a lot of little tiny pleats – making the outer edge as round as possible.

Then press that smaller circle back down over the pleats, so that it is level with the folded outer edge. If it sticks over in any places, trim it back, but only just.

Pin this donut shape over the eye piece. The inside edge of the donut should be level with the inside of the bias binding, the raw edge up against the outer fabric.

Hand sew around the outer edge of the donut to the pieced fabric. Make sure that the raw edge from the smaller circle is under the donut, but do not let it flip out through the middle. On the machine, top stitch about a quarter inch from the outer edge.

This should catch the raw edge inside, and leave a ridge between the outer eye donut and the bias bound eye hole. From the inside, it should be possible to pop in a round lens from a pair of sunglasses, or an improvised lens such as a circle of clear plastic cut from the lid of an old takeaway container, or some transparent holographic vinyl, such as this stuff on amazon. Repeat for the other eye hole.

Hooray! You are all done!

I am really not sure on the efficacy of this as an actual viable mask. On the one hand, there are a lot of seams through which germs could pass, but on the other hand, the fact that the lining is a bit loose and baggy inside the beak might cancel that out.

Depending on your materials, it should be machine washable, although it will almost certainly look a lot less crisp.

I had a lot of issues with my lenses fogging up after a couple of minutes of me wearing it, but who knows, maybe I am just a very wet breather.

I am not going to charge anything for this pattern, nor am I going to place restrictions on what you do with the items you make. I do not control your right to profit from your work. All art is derivative, and you making your own version transforms this pattern. Don’t let assertions of intellectual property rights be another way you are alienated from your labour. If you decide to sell your work, demand fair remuneration for your time and skills. Someone offering to pay for the materials is not enough. If you have decided to take an activity you love and turn it into work, make it worthwhile.

On the flip side, please don’t try to sell this bit of writing or the PDF of the pattern net or these photographs. They are free for you and for everyone else. Resist society’s message that you should try to profit from your every action, and especially resist the notion that true success is achieved by profiting from anyone else’s labour.

If you want to discuss this stuff further, I would love that! I am researching the commodification of creative knowledge for my PhD, focusing on quilt patterns and designs. Message me @mctreeleth on tumblr and instagram or @sarasewsstuff on twitter for my uni email.

Edit: I have added in a link to a simplified version if you are going to make this with a single fabric rather than patchwork piecing. 

[masterxofxmasters]

(Written in collaboration with @shshshshshowrunner )

Showie and Xigdad

“Hello, Xigdad,” The Showrunner called over her shoulder as The Master walked into the little clearing she’d made. She wasn’t in that cloak she usually wore, instead wearing what looked like loose white linen clothing.

“Ah- guess there’s no need to announce myself.” The Master replied back with a yawn. He had barely made it on time to meet the Showrunner. Despite having arranged the meeting less than an hour before, he had found himself dozing off and on before she alerted him to her readiness. Yawning again, he crouched down beside one of the newly conjured trees, avoiding any thorns.

She glanced back at him, then summoned her keyblade.

The Master gave a low whistle, looking up at the weapon. “That’s it huh? Lovely design. Xigbar really did a good job of teaching you from what I’ve heard.” He leaned his head against his arm, propped against his knee. “You don’t intend to fight me here?” He teased.

She’d stiffened at his whistle, then relaxed, then stiffened again, “No. It’s a conduit. For casting. Can’t have anyone wandering in and seeing you, can we?”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She raised her face to the sky. After a few moments, the end of her keyblade sparked purple, then a purple glow raced down the white stripe before jumping the hilt and lighting up her arm. Soon, all of her was glowing purple.

She breathed out, pointing her keyblade at the sky. A forcefield- a smaller one- rippled just around the clearing.

“There,” she said, still glowing. It was almost eerie. “Now no one will wander in to- what did you call it? ‘Peep the horrors’? You’ll need to show me whatever injuries if I have any hope of healing them.” She stabbed her keyblade into the ground, and lit a fire under a cauldron he hadn’t noticed before.

The Master hadn’t so much as flinched during the whole display, but rather watched with interest. Once she had set up the forcefield and requested the removement of his coat, he nodded, obliging before pausing. Many eyes in an inky dark patch covering his neck and one of his shoulders gazed unblinking back at her. “Just a warning. I’ll have to remove my shirt as well, I don’t want to alarm you but it is important to see all of the damage.”

She waved her hand, “It’s fine.” She walked over to a patch of plants growing in tight rows, muttering to herself as she picked several of them and then threw them into the cauldron. She brought out a silver vial from a pocket and dumped in a glowing golden liquid.

She brought out another couple of vials and emptied them into the cauldron as well.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, as she consulted a small notebook she was holding.

“I’m making the strongest healing potion I know of,” she told him, still glowing purple. She glanced at him, “I’m not sure exactly how it will work on your physiology, but it’s worth a shot.”

“At this point, I’m down to try… well, just about anything.” The Master admitted, stripping off his shirt and throwing it aside to reveal that the mass of glassy eyes reached all the way down the left side of his body down to the bottom of his stomach. “It’s not just these eyes. Every black portion of hair and feathers are an issue as well.” As he explained this, his wings and tail took their form behind him, giving her a better visual. Yet again, there was an intense inky blackness forming on the tips of the wings and feathers to his left.

“I see,” she said. “And that's… darkness?”

“Yes- well- yes and no.” He sighed, letting her inspect the area. “It is darkness but it’s one that was caused by a result of getting hurt from an attack by darkness. It’s like a scar… a painful scar that spreads if it’s not taken care of.”

“Well, if there’s one thing this potion is good for, it’s healing old wounds. All wounds, really. And sicknesses. In organic creatures, at least.” She tilted her head as she looked at him. “I-” She hesitated, “I- don’t know how to convey to you… how valuable any information on Paphus is to me. Thank you.”

She turned back to the cauldron and pulled her keyblade from the ground, “I’m going to go into a trance now. After these next few seconds, I won’t be able to hear you. Anything to say?”

“Well it certainly is old.” The Master murmured before shaking his head softly. “But no. I don’t think I do.”

“Very well,” she said, before taking her keyblade in both hands and staring up at the sky. The glow increased in waves, and the wind in the force field- the small one- picked up. She began to tremble slightly- or maybe the more accurate word was vibrate. Yes, that was the right word.

She picked a wooden bowl up from the ground and dipped it into the swirling cauldron. She filled it, then turned to him, her eyes shining like purple suns compared to the more moderate glow on the rest of her. She crossed over to him, then knelt on the side of the majority of the wounds.

She said something in ancient greek- invoking the name of Hecate, then poured some of the boiling liquid onto an inky black patch.

The Master stayed relatively still during the entire process, transfixed in watching her magic unfold. It was certainly a different kind than he was used to seeing in most of the worlds he had been to. However, when the medicine reached the scarring, he gasped out, involuntarily jerking forward as the icy burning liquid enveloped the mass of eyes. Wincing, his main eyes shut tight as his fingers dug into the grassy earth beneath him. His skin hissed loudly, fizzling out a few of the newly formed eyes.

The bowl empty, the Showrunner stood on unsteady feet. He could hear her irregular breaths as she walked, entranced, over to the cauldron, and then back over to him. Unblinking, gasping slightly, she poured more of the potion over the scars.

The Master had barely enough time to recover from the first bowl of treatment before the next one started. At this point he could barely take it anymore. His back arched as he cried out in pain, sobs choking from his throat. Shit. Shit. Was it supposed to hurt this much? He couldn’t even open his main eyes or focus his others so much as check if it was working. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had felt so much pain- perhaps when he had gotten the scars in the first place.

He hadn’t heard the Showrunner get up, but he heard the sound of the bowl being dipped into more of the potion. The Showrunner said something that either wasn’t words or just didn’t make sense to him.

Then she knelt back down next to him.

He was shaking badly, teeth clattering together like branches in a storm. His breathing was ragged. He couldn’t steady it out, hell, he couldn’t even think. It was just an endless torrent of scorching cold agony.

Shakily, he reached out for her, grasping onto her arm. His voice was desperate and small. “Please.. please tell me- is it working?”

He felt a hand close around his wrist and squeeze slightly. Then she stood, filling the bowl before kneeling back down. He let his wrist go limp in her grasp, body hunching over itself. He felt sick. The pain had rampaged through him to the point of nausea. He heaved a few uneven breaths before straightening himself up once more in preparation. He would get through this damn process- even if it scorched him alive. Anything would be better than his body being taken over.

The process went on for what seemed like forever, burning and freezing away at his skin. After a multiple minute pause where no treatment happened, he managed to open his eyes as the bowl clattered into the bottom of the cauldron.

The Showrunner was shaking like a leaf, her clothes clinging to her skin. She tipped the cauldron over, then peered into it. He saw it was empty.

She turned around to face him, nearly keeling over before righting herself. “Ahh-” She shivered, “Iaah.”

She dismissed her keyblade and promptly collapsed onto the ground, shivering but- thankfully- awake.

The Master was barely conscious, himself. His shaky breathing was barely audible as he lay in a heap. He could still feel the burning radiating throughout his body, though now it was slowly beginning to fade.

The force field around them- the smaller one- flickered and died. So did the fire. He heard the Showrunner move, and when he briefly opened his eyes, he saw that she’d curled into a sort of ball, resting her head on her arm. Gently, he placed his free hand on top of her head and gave it a small pat before closing his eyes again.

Slowly, he began to speak.

“So. How does it look, kiddo?”

He saw her blearily open her eyes, then murmur, “Huh?”

“You know-“ he fumbled for words, gesturing his hand vaguely. “The scars.”

She muttered, “Oh. They’re kinda away mais pas all the way, vous savez? C’est, quoi, les new ones, je pense.”

The Master quietly muttered to himself, piecing together her words in his head until they made sense and gave a relieved sigh. Looking down, he saw that she was correct- Where the fresh scars once infected his body was once more his pearlescent skin and feathers while the older ones remained. “Well shit.” He laughed breathlessly. “That’s gotta be the best result yet. Good job!”

He felt her shiver slightly under his hand. “Mm. And you va trouver- sorry, you allez to ask about ma fille? Paphus?”

He nodded, now catching onto her French/English. “A deals a deal, isn’t it? I’ll figure out where she is. Don’t worry.” He peeked open his eyes, smiling softly down at her. “Nosing around is my specialty.”

She let out a small sob. Her eyes were closed, and she was laying in a ball near his leg. He was gentle as he ran his fingers through the top of her hair- as if she were a small cat. Seemed like his fatherly instincts were swinging back into full force.

“Sorry I can’t help you back like last time.” He admitted. “At least not at this moment… maybe in an hour I can if you’re willing to wait with me until then.”

“Je can’t move anyway,” she murmured. “And Braig’s asleeping.”

“I see. Well, might as well use this time to rest, hm?” The Master nodded, adjusting himself ever so slightly to make it more comfortable for the both of them. “I don’t think anyone will come wandering around here this late anyway… well… no regular human anyway.”

She made a tiny affirmative noise.

“Alright, cool. Cool.”

It was admittedly an oddly casual response given the massively exhausting moment that the two of them had but he couldn’t muster up much else.

Stretching out his wings, he wrapped them around the two of them, providing warmth and a bit of shelter and comfort. “Might as well get some shuteye then.”

She might have said something if not for the fact that she was already asleep.

Noticing this, he gave another small laugh followed by a yawn. “Right. After you I suppose.”

It wasn’t long before his eyes slipped shut, and sleep was soon to follow.

[DM]

@shshshshshowrunner

I’m interested in the healing abilities that you have. I have an… issue. Nothing has worked yet that I’ve tried. Maybe your powers might do something. Even if they don’t, you have my deepest gratitude.

Kayne has me covered with the pain that comes along with it so I should be just fine in that regard.

[ambiguouspuzuma]

In my own time

I hate change. Not the coins, though they clutter up my wallet with the train tickets, receipts and everything else, but the other thing. Flux. Tumult. They're really only other words for death: the loss of what once was, and its wholesale replacement by what is. Time passing is one thing, but tolerable if it brings more of the same - not an ending, but a renewal. Change is the permanent closing of a chapter, in a book you'll never have the chance to read again.

Uncertainty is even worse. The most stressful times of my life - waiting for exam results, the follow up from an interview, an offer on a house - have all come when I couldn't see the future. When I couldn't even predict it, not even in the mundane way we chart the coming of the winter months, the way a dark cloud heralds rain. That feeling of blindness to the danger - like a wild animal in a box, unable to see the way out. My idea of happiness is knowing what tomorrow will bring.

That's why time travel suits me perfectly.

It's expensive, as coping mechanisms go, but I don't know what I'd do without it. I can barely remember those days, before the discovery - back when every day was a new beginning, when life was a long and winding road with any number of horrors lurking behind its corners. A living nightmare. Call me a time travel addict, but I'm never going back to all of that.

As you might imagine, the government were cagey about it at first - they supressed the discovery entirely, outside of official channels, and we only found out about it some time later. Even then, all private use had to be officially authorised. It was only after a few years that the floodgates opened, after they realised it wasn't the instant recipe for anarchy they'd feared.

They tried using it themselves, at first, to see how geopolitical issues would play out, and found it was largely useless. The other side had it too, you see... and so if our lot changed their behaviour because of what they saw, so would every other country in the world, and thus the outcome would change again.

They'd all spend days watching each other's shifting strategies, only to finally learn that they couldn't know the future for sure after all. It was only once they settled on a path, and their opponents likewise finalised their response, that anything was actually determined. The cat's fate would only be sealed if they opened the box and looked. You know, just like how it was before. The old-fashioned way.

It wasn't entirely useless for official purposes, though. Although there was no single future - just a complex web of potential outcomes - the government agencies could use time travel to test things, all decisions being fed into this iterative model, and arrive at the optimum outcome. It's game theory, right? Nothing is certain where other actors are at play, but there's still a right choice that you can make.

Time travel made things... better. The world became more rational, and policies improved across the board. That was especially true for the non-moving parts, external variable like climate change, which world governments could chart and mitigate as required. Anyone could see the counterfactuals, the impact of one policy versus another, and there could be no doubt about the necessity to act. Even smaller scale natural disasters could be anticipated and avoided.

Some industries struggled, like sports betting companies, but none whose loss was really mourned. They rebounded, anyway, once punters realised the same thing that the governments had: if they were looking ahead, so were the players and clubs, and that changed the result. If one team saw they were about to lose, they could change their tactics to avoid making the same mistakes, but then the other side could look into the new future and respond in turn.

In time, clubs set up whole future scouting departments to build them probability models, the likelihood of one strategy being chosen against its chances of success, and a bet on the result would all come down to those odds. Just like it used to. Again, we reverted to doing things the old-fashioned way, and the dust settled on a world that functioned more or less the same.

But that wasn't true for everyone. For me, and others in my position, the discovery changed everything: the end of uncertainty, my anxiety in the face of looming change. The advantages of time travel were pretty much restricted to personal use - with any strategy negated by its opponent, other people remained as unpredictable as ever - but that suited me just fine. I was a nobody, after all. I had no rivals, nobody who would try to shape my path against my will, and I could use it freely without fear of negation. I just wanted to see my own choices, one or two steps ahead.

That's what I do. I look forward, in my own time, to check that nothing really bad will happen. No relatives falling sick. No sudden tragedy. Things that won't change based on my viewing, meaning I can sleep more comfortably, knowing exactly what the morning brings. And, if something bad is written in the stars... well, I'm hoping that the knowledge will take some of the blow. Another day to mourn, at least. To say my goodbyes.

Forewarned is forearmed, they say, and I do feel much happier for it. I'm glad to have a life without surprises - not avoiding spoilers, but welcoming them, because nothing spoils a life like living under a shadow. Not for me, the looming dread of what may come. I have made my peace with the devil I know, and all of that anxiety is gone: I am free to relax, to enjoy my time however I want, even if I already know how that may be. Call me boring, but I prefer that to the alternative.

[shiftylookingcrow]

A (not comprehensive) List of Little Self Care Things I Do When Everything Feels Like Too Much:

Bathing

Wash just your body, or just your hair. You may not be completely clean, but you ARE cleaner

Still feels like too much? No problem!

Take off any jewelry from your hands/wrists and wash your hands up to your elbows, just taking your time

Then wash your arm pits and groin, those are the stinkiest parts of the body

If you're feeling up to it, wash your face too

Once you're done washing, take your favorite body lotion and massage it in anywhere you washed

Shaving

Shaving takes time and patience (especially if you prefer to be mostly hairless), but you don't have to go through the whole process every time

Wanna wear that cute tank top/crop top but don't feel comfortable with how hairy your pits are today?

JUST shave your arm pits then

Wanna wear shorts/capries/a skirt, but feel your legs are too fuzzy?

Where on your legs do the cuffs/hem sit? JUST shave from there down

Facial hair looking kinda scruffy? Got an electric shaver? It won't give you as close a shave as a razor, but it'll help neaten you up a bit

After any shaving, get back in there with your lotion and work it in well

Laundry

Don't have the energy to drag that big basket you've been avoiding down to the washing machine? Out of clothes but need something to wear tomorrow?

Wash ONLY what you'll need for the next 1 or 2 days. A smaller load means less to put away after

Need a bra/binder/mask/etc for tomorrow? Wash ONE, then hang it to dry with a fan blowing on it.

The air movement will help it dry faster, and while it may not be 100% dry by morning, it should be dry enough to wear comfortably

This can be done for underwear and socks as well

Dental

Mouth feeling like sandpaper, but you still can't find it in you to go through the whole tooth care routine?

JUST brush your teeth before bed. You can floss in the morning

No energy to get in there and really scrub like your dentist told you to? Even just a quick scrub is better than nothing

You know those little Gum brand toothpick things? With runber bristles on them? They can't replace proper flossing, but the CAN at least get the worst of the gunk from between your teeth

Food

Hungry but can't bring yourself to put together a whole meal? That's okay!

Get all the fixings for a sandwich (bread, spreads, cheese, meat, etc), put them on a plate and eat that. You're still eating a sandwich, it's just not an assembled sandwich

Want a smoothy, but don't want to fuss with the blender? Put it all together as a yogurt bowl instead

Want a salad? Grab a couple lettuce leaves, a stick of celery, half a tomato, or whatever else you'd have in there, and toss it on a plate. Grab some dressing (or not) and you've got a personal size veggie platter

Cut an orange in half and eat the pulp out with a spoon

Cut an apple in half, and eat JUST one half. You can save the other half for later, or eat it right after the first if you feel up to it

Cutting a banana in half and squeezing out the fruit means you don't have to worry about those gross stringy bits

Simple Smoothie Recipe:

1 banana

1 egg

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 tsp honey/sugar

Milk (dairy, soy, almond, whichever)

Berries, yogurt, chocolate chips, jam (optional)

Directions

Put all ingredients except milk in a blender (or 4 cup measure if using a hand mixer)

Pour in milk until ingredients are ALMOST covered. There should be about 1 inch/2.5 cm of solid ingredients visible

Blender/mix for 30-60 seconds, or until desired consistency. Pour into your favorite glass, or drink straight from the container

Simple baked potato:

Clean a medium to large potato and use a fork to stab holes down the sides and at each end. Depending on the size, you should have stab your potato somewhere around 9-12 times.

Place the potato in the microwave just off of center, one end facing the center of the spinning plate

Microwave for 15 minutes, flipping the potato end for end after every 5 minutes

Put the potato on a plate with some sour cream or ranch dressing, and dip it like a big ol' french fry

House Cleaning

Feel like there's too many dishes? Pick ONE place setting (bowl, plate, knife, fork, spoon, cup), and ONE pot/pan, and clean those. Do the same at the end of each meal, and while it might take a while, you'll eventually get things down to a manageable level

Dust bunnies breeding in the corners? Pick ONE room or hallway every couple days and just clean there. ONE clean room is better than NO clean rooms

Your room is so messy you don't know where to start? Every time you enter your room, put ONE thing back where it belongs. Every time you leave your room, take one thing that doesn't belong out with you and put it where it belongs.

Sink looking kind of gross? Give it a quick wipe down the next time you wash your hands

Toilet needs a clean? Pick a part (lid, seat, back or bowl) and just clean that bit. Even if you're just wiping some of the dust off the back.

Scum ring building up in the shower/bathtub? Give it a quick scrub next time you bathe. Maybe you don't get the whole thing, but you DID make a start.

Fitness

No energy for a full walk? If you can, walk around your house/apartment building. You might not have gone far, but you were UP and you were OUTSIDE.

Can't get out for whatever reason? Are there stairs in your house? In your apartment building? If you can, walk up and down those a few times.

Not really able to do stairs? Do some simple stretches instead.

Reach down and try to touch your toes, holding for 20 seconds. Reach up over your head as high as you can, holding for 20 seconds. Repeat 5 times

Sitting in a chair, reach your right hand across your body and over your left shoulder and try to grab the back of the chair without lifting your butt. Hold for 20 seconds. Do the same with your left arm, holding for 20 seconds. Repeat 5 times

Standing, or sitting on a chair, gently pull your head towards your shoulder (right hand, right shoulder; left hand, left shoulder), reaching the other hand down towards the ground. Hold for 20 seconds, then gently push your head upright again (lifting your head with just your neck muscles can cause them to seize after a stretch). Repeat 5 times

Miscellaneous

Need to trim your nails, but don't feel like sitting through both hands? Pick one finger on each hand, and just trim that nail. Do another nail on each hand tomorrow, and another the day after that. You don't have to do them all at once

Having trouble remembering to drink enough water? Find a water bottle/mug/glass that you like and try to keep it near you as much as possible. I find actually having a bottle with me helps me remember to keep sipping.

Still having trouble with your water intake? Fruit and veggies (specifically like apples, oranges, tomatoes, bell peppers and avocados to name a few) have high water content and can help keep you hydrated

Even if you can't get to sleep, lieing in bed with your eyes closed is more restful than trying to wear yourself out by reading or something

Alternatively, doing some mild stretches, or a few sit ups/push ups/jumping jacks can help wear you out without engaging your brain too much

You are aloud to say "no". You don't even need to give a reason. If everything feels like too much, taking on more responsibility will only make it worse, which will only make your output poorer as a result.

A reminder that this is by no means a complete list, just some things I've found helpful in my journey through adhd, depression, and anxiety. Not all tasks need to be done all at once. Maybe you can't do much, but that doesn't invalidate the some you did. Just because you take longer to do a task doesn't mean your bad at it, or that it isn't worth doing. You'll get there when you get there.

Please feel free to add to this post, I'd love to see what self care tricks other people are using!

[rubeau-art]

For the writing prompts the 4 ! U choose the character 👌

I tried. I immediately got off track. But I am pleased with the result so y’all can have it anyway!

—-

Characters: Jax, Ori & unnamed Onyx Guard. Note: Anything spoken in the Trader Language will be marked with </>.

—-

Of course he would shift at the worst possible time. Of course he would be unable to find someone to help him when he actually needed it. And of course the last person he had wanted to see him like this had caught a glimpse as he had made a mad dash for cover into one of the locker rooms.

Jax had barely managed to squeeze himself under the door before finding a space to wedge himself under a locker. The cold metal dug painfully into his back and still he had no idea if he was tucked in enough to not be seen, but he also knew the officer had followed him in. The advancing dull clack of boots on the hard floor measuring out the seconds before he was found.

Just as the tip of a boot rounded the corner opposite his hiding spot, Jax’s vision was abruptly obscured by blackness. He clamped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from swearin. Jax could hear nothing over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears as a familiar, bright green eye opened up before him. A  faint rumble rattled through his chest and he nearly swore anyway. 

It was that goddamned Midra.

Ori had been sitting in the locker room going over the homework Justin had given him when the door had opened. He chose this room to study as he knew it was unused. He didn’t have to endure the withering looks most of the humans gave him as he passed. 

As such, the entrance of the Onyx officer had startled him quite badly, the fearful little Midra skittering onto the floor  and keeping low as he heard boots approaching. 

But that wasn’t the only sound he heard. His long ears twitched as a faint, panicked breathing caught his attention, sharp eyes catching the tiniest movement when he sought out the source of the noise.

Was that Jaxom? He narrowed his eyes at the tiny thin. He saw it slip and for a split second he saw a flash of dirty-blond hair. It was Jaxom!  The officer must have seen him! That was why there was a member of the Onyx Guard at the base in the first place. They had been sent to find out who ‘Atlas’ was.

Ori could feel his own panic rising. Jax hated him more than anyone else here. Blamed him for his parent’s death, his current condition, and because he had no other outlet, the war as a whole. Ori had come here to help him, and despite how the human felt about him, he wasn’t going to fail in his reason for coming here. He could not let the officer find him!

The Onyx rounded the corner and Ori dived over to where Jax was hiding, hearing the sharp intake of breath from beside his head before he saw Jax’s terrified expression so close to his eye. He let out a low rumble that was supposed to be comforting, but just made the miniscule human tense up.

The Officer stopped dead as she rounded the corner. Of all the things she had expected to see when she came in here, the base’s rogue Midra was not one of them.

She had of course seen him before when she had been taken around the base on the first day, and  been told he wasn’t to be treated as hostile. Looking at him now, she could tell he wasn’t like the Midra she had seen. The black, feline-esque alien was far smaller and more outwardly submissive than the others, and while she still held that bias towards him, seeing him pressed flat to the ground and staring at her with wide eyes gave her pause. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked, noting how the alien flinched when she spoke. 

Ori trembled under that gaze and hoped his poor grasp of the human language would be enough to keep him out of trouble. “Hiding…” 

“Hiding? From what?” For all she had seen and done since this war started, the Onyx officer had never spoken to a Midra before. The thick accent was a surprise.

“…You- a-all of you.” Ori tilted his head towards the locker, looking like he was trying to hide his face.

Jax could not let himself make a sound as Ori’s muzzle shoved him down toward his shoulder. What the hell was the alien doing? Jax tried to shove him away, but Ori pushed him within reach of his hands, a thick curved claw snagging Jax’s shirt making him finally stop struggling. 

Hidden between his body and the bank of lockers, Ori managed to tug Jax into the folds of his jumpsuit without the Officer noticing, feeling those little angry movements tangle into his fur as he shifted his weight to lean more against the lockers.

The Onyx regarded Ori with an unreadable expression, not sure what to make of him.

“I have been led to believe you are here to help the staff. Is this correct?”

With the tiny human stashed away safely, Ori sat up a little, long ears pressed flat to his head in fear. “Correct… Yes…” 

“Will you help me while I am here?”

The dark Midra’s tail flicked, ears twitching in surprise. “…you need assistance?”

This wasn’t what he expected. He expected more distrust, anger like so many of the others. But this woman from the Onyx Guard was calm and let him speak.

She nodded and crouched to be closer to his current level. “I am looking for something. Well, someone. I think you know who I mean?”

Ori dipped his head, looking away from her as she got closer to him.

“…Soldier…”

“Correct. If you know who it is, or if you see them. Will you tell me?”

Jax went still when the two of them started talking. Would Ori sell him out to the Onyx for the way he had treated him? He could hear the Midra’s heart beating faster than his own and wondered if he really was considering it.

“If I see… Yes.” Ori said it slowly, using the fact the Onyx couldn’t read his body language as well as his slow awkward speech to hide the fact he was lying. Badly.

“Thank you. Ori, was it?” The Officer made no move to touch him. While she might have offered a handshake to anyone else, her lack of understanding his race kept her from doing so.

He nodded again, his ears raising a little as the conversation seemed to draw to a close. The little Midra was eager to be anywhere else right now, especially with Jax tucked down his clothes. 

Without another word, the officer stood and turned to leave. She was sure the Midra knew something but until she knew more about him and the people here, there was no reason to press the frightened thing. Strange. Feeling compassion for one of his kind was new to her.

Ori waited for a moment, just to be sure the Onyx had left, then looked down as Jax tried to free himself, staring up from that dark fur. He looked angry… but it seemed to be different from his normal angry

He nosed Jax back down into his clothes. <Stay. I will take you somewhere safe.>

Jax had forgotten Ori was almost fluent in the trader tongue, and after hearing his broken English it was almost alarming. Like talking to a completely different person. He balled his fists tighter into that fur as he was pushed back down. There was nothing he could do to stop the Midra. He wouldn’t be able to shift again for a while and it wasn’t like he had any better plan to get out of here.

 Ori did up the top of his jumpsuit a little more,then padded silently out of the locker room. 

—

Jax kept still as Ori took him from the locker room and out into the base. He couldn’t quite understand why Ori would throw himself between him and the officer. It just didn’t fit with the conclusions he had come to about Midra and Ori in particular. He let himself get lost in his thoughts to distract himself  from the Alien’s bizarre, swaying gait.

<…Jaxom? Are you okay?>

Ori’s voice cut through Jax’s fragile peace and he jolted. When did Midra stop walking?

<Where are we?> Jax said cautiously. He didn’t think Ori would hurt him like this, but he couldn’t be sure.

<We are at your room. Is that okay?>

<…Yeah.>

Jax wriggled a little, trying to get himself free of the heat trapped within that fur. He felt Ori shift around him, then that strange, double thumbed hand settled in his vision. The Midra’s claws were nowhere to be seen, which was some comfort. Jax had experienced too many of those claws tearing into him. Were they retractable? Jax had never really stopped to observe, but it made sense they would be. He found he appreciated Ori had put them away for him.

<Why didn’t you tell her about me?> Jax asked quietly as he pulled himself onto that offered hand. He was glad to be out of that stifling fur and somewhere that felt safe, even with Ori there. 

Ori waited patiently as Jax climbed onto his hand, though his heart was pounding, waiting for Jax to begin shouting at him for one thing or another. He had not expected the quiet question that came instead, nor the confusion in the man’s voice.

<…I left the flotilla to help you. A promise to myself more than… you.> He spoke as he  moved Jax over to the bed. It wasn’t  the most gentle trip Jax had ever had, but it was quick and he was glad to be out of Ori’s grasp. 

Ori continued as he pulled his hands away and lowered himself to lean his chin on the edge of the bed. Those big green eyes looked over Jax before looking away.

<I know you hate me. And… Your condition is my fault. Hate me or not, I will help you. Undo the damage I caused.> His ears pressed down flat to his head again and a trembling whine accompanied his words. <...Are you afraid of me?>

Jax stared at him from where he sat, nearly drowned in the sea of his own bedsheets. He had heard these words from Ori before, but this time they actually hit him as holding meaning. And that last question, where had that come from?

He grit his teeth and looked away from that huge dark muzzle. 

<I’m not afraid of you… and I dont- I don’t hate you.> 

Ori tilted his head toward him, the little white dots of his eyebrows raised?

God this was hard for Jax. But Ori had just saved him and deserved some explanation for Jax’s shitty behaviour. 

<You represent a lot of things for me… It’s… It’s hard to look at you. I look at you and remember everything that’s  happened. The things that are still happening.> His voice wavered and cracked, < But you, Ori… I don’t hate you. I don’t know you enough to hate you. You came here to help and I’ve been nothing but a dickhead to you.>

Jax could feel the flush and dampness on his cheeks as all that anger and frustration he would have directed at Ori in the past came out with no direction. He wiped the stinging tears from his eyes, but there were only more there to take their place. Almost being caught had shaken him. Ori had been there. Had helped him, and was here now when his walls broke down.

Ori made a high-pitched chirrup in his throat as the tiny, usually angry human started crying. He had never seen someone cry like this! It was violent and painful, and it was Jax. He was frozen as he watched Jax curl into himself and press his palms to his eyes, harsh sobbing wracking the three-inch frame.

The Midra hesitated, then leaned forward, then very very delicately, licked the back of Jax’s head. It was the only gesture of comfort he knew.

Jax flinched and looked up at him sharply, his hair now stuck up at the back, but there was no anger, just surprise mingled with those overflowing emotions.

<I would like to know you better, Jaxom. It would be easier to help you.> Ori touched Jax’s side with his nose.

Jax sniffled, then snorted a tiny laugh as he pushed those long whiskers out of his face and wiped his eyes. <I don’t understand you.>

<We can understand. But… It will take time. And being around each other.> Ori smiled. Not a human smile as Midra didn’t show their teeth, but his eyes scrunched up in a rather cute fashion. <But… Everything can wait. For now… May I stay with you until you are able to shift?>

For the first time, Jax didn’t feel angry at Ori. He just felt tired, and honestly grateful the Midra had been so stubborn as to not give up on him. He found he did want Ori to stay right now. <Sure. I mean- You can stay.> He looked down, as though about to move to get out of the way, but Ori beat him to it,  carefully climbing up onto the bed, expertly avoiding jostling Jax too badly as he curled up around him. 

<This is the first real conversation you and I have ever had. It… It is like meeting again for the first time.> 

Jax surprised himself with how easily he settled after Ori had stepped over him and curled up on his bed. He was right. It was like meeting again for the first time. Jax had actually seen Ori as more than just the face of the enemy, and it had changed something. 

<I didn’t thank you before. Not for saving me, but for… you know. Coming here. It must have been a hard decision for you to leave everything behind like that.>

<I do not regret it.> Ori shuffled his head closer so his cheek was against Jax’s back.  Those words repeated in Jax’s head as the two lay there on his bed. Ori didn’t regret coming here. Didn’t regret helping him after he had been terrible to him. It would be hard to tell how things would be between them after this quiet moment passed, but Jax silently promised to make an effort to be better to Ori than he had been.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

WandaNat x Reader : Inhale pt. 2

Summary: She never ceases to surprise you.

Warning: Smoking, Cursing, One Suggestive Joke

Word Count: 1,998

Part 1

* * * * * *

The white paint stares back at you as you lay on your bed. Your view of the ceiling is obscured by the red ball you toss up into the air. It gets slightly smaller as it moves away from you, then larger as it falls back down. 

Your hand catches it and throws it back up into the air, repeating the same process as the tv plays on monotonously from the corner of the room.

Boredom has been washed over you for the past few days. Your girlfriends went on a mission last week. You were able to pass the time during the first week, keeping yourself distracted by hanging around the team, training with Steve, going for a run every time your fingers twitched towards the cigarettes you had hidden in your closet. All of that was failing to work right now.

It seems, though, that you don’t have to suffer through it much longer. F.R.I.D.A.Y chimes up after hours of quiet with an alert that Natasha and Wanda were back and heading to the room. 

You instantly perk up, pushing yourself to a sitting position on the bed and glancing at the door frequently, ready for your girls to walk in. Except they don’t.

The gleeful, happy to be home, response you were expecting is replaced by their clearly upset demeanors. A frown sits on Wanda’s face like you’ve never seen and Natasha’s expression remains neutral. 

They don’t acknowledge you save for a glance in your direction. Both of them go into the closet and quickly change into more comfortable clothes. In an instant afterwards they’re leaving out. And you’re left beyond confused.

With the possible reasons for their behavior and clear attitudes in your head, you don’t take offense to it. You give them some time to cool off, going back to tossing your ball in the air and catching it as you watch tv. 

Around an hour or two later you decide they’re fine now, or at least fine enough to talk to. So you get up, heading first to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold water and then to the general training room. 

The sound of familiar huffs and the pounding of fists against a leather bag let’s you know your assumption was right. Your redheaded love is off to the fair side of the gym, headphones in her ears as she beats on the punching bag. 

You smirk at the sight of her. Not only do her yoga pants and sports bra look great on her, you always find her focused and slightly aggressive expression kind of hot. She glances at you as you approach and you know she can hear you despite her headphones.

Stopping behind the bag, you lean on it, showing off your smirk to the woman.“ If you really want to work off your frustrations I can think of a good way to do so.” Natasha grunts, rolling her eyes and focusing on punching the bag. 

With a sigh, you move to her side, gently taking her taped up hands and moving in front of her. Forest green eyes look into yours and you give her your best encouraging smile. She knows what your silent question is and sighs.

“The mission went south. We suffered a civilian casualty and others got hurt.” Her expression and tone remain neutral but obviously she’s upset about this. It isn’t her first time dealing with this kind of thing from a mission but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t hate every bit of it. 

“I’m sorry to hear that baby.” You raise your hands to her arms and gently rub them, squeezing a little in between.

Natasha’s heart warms at your soft comforts.“ I’ll be okay. Wan is more torn up than I am. She-” The woman shakes her head,“ she blames herself.” 

You frown, prepared to ask for more details. Then you figure you can ask the girlfriend who’s more deeply affected by it. 

“I’ll go talk to her.” Natasha nods at your words.“ You gonna be okay?” A teasing smile forms on your lips.“ I know you’re my super tough ex-assassin but I’m here if you want to talk.”

Her lips tug up in the corner at your teasing words, but it quickly becomes a sincere smile when you offer your ear. Slowly reaching up, she runs the pad of her thumb along the apple of your cheek.“ I’m okay detka. I’ll let you know if I need to talk. Or your other services.” 

You chuckle softly and nod. Leaning forward, you press a soft, quick kiss to her lips and part, heading off to find your other girlfriend. The not so tough witchy one you love just as much. 

Finding the woman proved to be a little harder than you thought it would be. She wasn’t in any of the places you thought she would be in: the library, the theater, the common room. You wrack your brain for ideas as to where she is and when the last place pops into mind, you can’t believe you hadn’t thought of it first.

It’s a quick jog to the elevator and an even shorter ride up to the top floor. From there you take the stairs up to the roof. 

She’d stolen this spot from you a few months after you started dating. She and Natasha found you up there smoking once and through the year and a half she would find you up here, sometimes sneaking a smoke when you shouldn’t be. 

Her long brown tresses fall down her back freely, the rest of her beauty hidden as she faces away from you. Though you still find her insanely cute that she’s in your hoodie and some stretch pants. 

The long slow straightening of her form clues you in on her deep breath, her body relaxing as she lets it go. You only get a little confused when she pauses and does it again. A thought that you’re unsure of, but the physical cues make you curious. The familiar movement of her arm, the deep breath, the pause. 

“Wan?” You call with an indescribable look on your face. 

Your brunette girlfriend’s shoulders drop and she turns to you. Immediately your eyes focus on the small cylinder in between her fingers, watching as it rises and rests between her lips. 

She takes a quick pull, pauses, let’s a little smoke go, then it all comes out in a straight shot that disperses in the air. It’s such a smooth combination of actions that leaves you wondering if she’d done this before. 

Deciding to hold your comment on that until after she’s completely calm, you take a different route. Approaching her still pacing form, you cross your arms and ask,“ was it that bad?” 

A snort leaves her lips and she takes another drag.“ Worse.” 

“Tell me.” Your hand reaches for her free one and you pull her towards you as you sit on the ledge of the roof. 

Her hand squeezes yours. Your eyes drop from her green ones to her lips as they wrap around the cylinder again, cheeks caving a little, then her lips puckering slightly as she pushes the smoke out. 

“I heard Natasha get hurt,” she starts, fingers once again tightening around yours,“ I looked away for a split second and he got away. We caught him but not until after he shot the tires out on a car. It flipped and crashed into another one.” Her jaw clenches, eyes glossing with tears.“ He hurt a man and his son and- and killed a woman.”

A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you stand, pulling her a little closer to your form. You’d been down this road a number of times. Being on the Avengers team since the beginning almost, you know exactly what it’s like to make a mistake and have others pay for it. It was a deep hole that never ceased to make you hate yourself. But you didn’t want Wanda feeling that way. 

“Hey,” you reach a hand up to cup her cheek, looking into her eyes,“ I know that it hurts. And it’s easy to blame yourself. But it’s not your fault. He made the choices that resulted in that woman losing her life, not you.” 

“But I’m supposed to be the hero. I’m supposed to save people. And I didn’t.” Her accent thickens as she gets choked up, eyes glossing over.

You sigh, taking the cigarette from her hand and putting it out on the ledge, then pull her into your arms. Her head rests on your shoulder and her hands slip up to your shoulder blades.“ You are a hero. A great hero. However, you’re not a perfect one. None of us are. It sucks in situations like this but you can’t save everyone no matter how much we want to. It doesn’t make you a bad person or any less of a hero.”

From the flicker of emotions in her eyes, you can tell it’s still going to take some time for her to cope with this. Still though you see a glimpse of that soft look and you can also see that she believes you to a certain extent.

Raising your hand, you gently push the corner of her lips up. She whines and turns her head away, noncommittally pushing at your side. It makes you laugh and she presses her forehead against your chest.

“Wanna tell me where you got that cigarette from?” You ask. 

She pulls away, producing a pack of cigarettes. Brows furrowing, you flip the top up and count the cigarettes inside. There were four missing.

“Did you smoke four whole cigarettes before I got up here?” An incredulous tone laces your words, disbelief flooding your system. 

Has your habit rubbed off on her? You know she and Nat found it attractive but did that lead Wanda to try it? It’s a terribly unhealthy habit, which is why your girlfriends wanted you to stop, and you certainly didn’t want Wanda getting into it.

“No, I didn’t smoke four. I got these from your boot in the closet,” she tells you.“ Which means you smoked them.”

“I-” you try to think of what to say.“ That was over the course of a few weeks. I haven’t had one in months though.” You know you didn’t need to give her an explanation but you wanted her to know you were still doing well. 

Wanda and Natasha were very well aware of your progression towards quitting. They could even tell the difference in your behavior. Both women were incredibly proud and admittedly you were proud of yourself as well. You had confidence you would be able to completely quit in the fairly near future. 

The younger woman smiles softly at you,“ I know you haven’t. And you don’t have to worry about me starting. It’s actually very nasty and I didn’t feel it did anything for my stress.” 

“Good. I don’t want you forming an addiction and I don’t want to die if Nat found out you’d started by smoking my cigarettes.” 

“She knows now.” 

Nearly jumping a foot in the air, you turn around to see your other girlfriend smirking a little at you. A nervous chuckle leaves your lips and you scratch the back of your neck. 

Rolling her eyes, Natasha steps to the side to stand beside you and Wanda. Her hand slipping into yours, the other held up towards Wanda. 

Wanda sighs and places the pack of cigarettes in Natasha’s hand. The redhead pockets them then takes the younger woman’s hand.“ Neither of you smoke again.” She states plainly. 

Looking at Wanda, you both nod.“ Never again Miss Romanoff.” You and Wanda say simultaneously, bright smiles shown to Natasha.

It’d be harder than that for you but not impossible. Especially not with the support and encouragement of the two women you loved and needed the most.

* * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows​ @natasha-danvers​ @blackxwidowsxwife​ @yumusak-yastik​ @b-5by5​ @fayhar​ @lostandsearching​ @iliketozoneout​ @ecruzsalaz

[icerosecrystal]

An Unexpected Turn Of Events

Mominette Month 2021

Day 01 - Find A Child

Masterlist

Authors note: Hi, everyone! Just one quick to let you all know so that this fic is not confusing for you. This fic is a reverse Robin fic. In other words, Dick is the youngest instead of the eldest, and Damian is the oldest instead of the youngest. This same thing applies to all of the other bat children as well.

Marinette sighed in relief as she finished rifling through her purse. She had woken up late and had hastily left her hotel room for her consultation. She had thankfully not left behind anything that she would need during the consultation. Feeling a bit paranoid, she looked once more through her purse, and there was the tape measure, pencils, notebook, sewing kit, and the NDAs. She may or may not have flipped through the grimoire belonging to the guardians and found the spell for expanding the space in her purse to be the way it was for her yo-yo when she transforms into Ladybug. Unlike her yo-yo, the expansion was still limited. But the extra space was still beneficial.

As Marinette was walking, she pulled out her phone to look at the time. 9:50, she thought, leaves me enough time to get to Wayne Tower by 10:00 if I want to be on time. As she was putting her phone away, she felt something hit her legs and torso. She let out a slight oof at the unexpected weight against her lower body. As she peered down, she saw a cute boy, probably around eight years old clinging onto her legs. He had black hair, and as he looked up at her with teary eyes, she saw the most devastating sparkling blue eyes she had ever seen. His slightly chubby cheeks were flushed pink, and his nose also had a pink tinge to it. The flushness was probably a result of the choked sobs he was currently letting out.

As Marinette looked around, she realized that none of the nearby grown-ups looked to be his parents, nor did they look like they were missing a child. She bent down and smiled softly at him, hoping to calm him down a bit. After a beat or two, her smile seemed to do the trick, and his sobs reduced down to a few tears. Once she knew that he had calmed down, she softly whispered, “ Hey, honey. Are you lost? Do you want me to find your parents?”

He sniffled a few times before replying with a slight tremor in his voice, “Yes. Please help me find my Boose.”

“Your Boose?” Marinette questioned.

“Yes,” he slightly whimpered, “Boose is my new daddy. My other daddy and mommy had to say goodbye to me.”

Marinette gasped in shock at his words. This poor kid, so young, and yet his parents were gone. Dead. Marinette thought about the many akumas which her parents didn’t survive. She then shook herself out of her thoughts. Come on, Marinette. Stop worrying about yourself all time. Your parents are okay now. But this kid is lost! Get out of your head! Steeling herself, she gently asked him, “What’s your name, hon? Mine is Marinette, but you can call me Mari..”

Surprised by the kindness and warmth in her voice, he stuttered out, “Richard… but I like Dick better. Richard sounds old. I’m not old!” He then shyly added, “It’s nice to meet you, miss. You have a pretty name.”

Marinette smiled as she saw his confidence growing with every word he spoke. Marinette laughed aloud at the words he shyly said, “It’s nice to meet you too.” She then questioned, “Do you remember where your daddy is?”

Dick was now bouncing on his heels, and he squealed out in excitement, “Yes! My daddy is in the big, tall building with the huge ‘W’ on it!”

The corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. Dick’s excitement was infectious. His words then caught up to her. Well! It looked like luck was on her side after all! She would have enough time to get Dick back to his dad and still be on time for her consultation. She stood back up and then smiled down at him, “Well, I’m heading there too! So why don’t I take you back to your daddy?”

Dick nodded his head rapidly before holding her hand with his much smaller one. They then started walking towards Wayne Tower. Dick continued to babble on about the most random of things. He talked about his grumpy older brother, who it seemed begrudgingly liked him. He also discussed the many pets his older brother had. It also seemed like Dick’s adoptive dad had a slight problem with adopting too many children from what could be told from the many siblings that Dick mentioned.

When the door of Wayne Tower came into sight, Dick stopped talking, allowing them to walk in comfortable silence. As she was about to speak to ask him where in the building his father worked or the name of his dad, Dick blurted out, “I like you, Miss Mari. Can you be my mommy? I don’t have a new one yet!”

Marinette stopped in shock before trying to stutter out something, anything, but all of her words were incoherent. What do you say in response to a question like that, she thought to herself? She saw Dick looking at her for an answer, and after a while, he decided to pull out some puppy eyes. Shoot! Marinette thought. I need to say something to stall for time. At least until I get him to his dad. She reassured him, “I am thinking about my answer, Dickie! But how about we first get back to your daddy, and then we talk about it?”

Dick contemplated her words before nodding in agreement and practically bouncing through the doors. Marinette sighed in relief and also walked through the doors. Her head was down as she speculated what she should do about Dick’s question. Suddenly, a rough voice spoke up in front of her, “Hello. Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I presume.”

Marinette lifted her head, and there in front of her was Bruce Wayne, her newest client. And clinging to him was the very boy that was holding her hand just seconds ago. She suddenly remembered hearing something about Bruce Wayne adopting the son of some acrobats who were in an accident. The name of the kid was Richard Grayson! She hadn’t made the connection!

Realizing that Bruce was looking for an answer, she hastily stuck out her hand, stuttering, “That is correct, Monsieur Wayne. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

He stared at her hand before gently taking it and raising the back of her hand to his lips. “Please, the pleasure is all mine. Let’s make our way upstairs.”

She blushed at his gentlemanly actions before squeaking out a small, “Let’s.” The three of them climbed into the elevator and went to the top floor of the building. The doors of the elevator opened up, and Bruce gestured for her to go first. She did so and looked around at the beautiful interior of the building that she had not yet noticed. Bruce then opened up the door to what seemed to be his office. Inside she saw there to be seven kids. She smiled at them in greeting. Most of them smiled back at her. The exception to this was what looked to be the oldest and one of the younger ones. (Damian and Jason, if you didn’t figure it out.)

Marinette felt Bruce step closer so that he was next to her before he spoke once more, “These are all of my children, biological, adopted, or otherwise.” He pointed to the man with stunning green eyes stating, “This is my oldest son, Damian. He’s 22.” Damian gave a tight-lipped smile in response, along with a slight tilt of his head.

Next, Bruce gestured to what looked to be the second oldest saying, “This is Tim. He’s 18 years old.” He was sipping coffee and giving the briefest of nods to her. He looked seconds away from collapsing.

He then acknowledged a blonde girl, remarking, “This is Stephanie, but she likes to be called Steph. She’s 17 years old.” The girl seemed to be bouncing in place and close to bursting from excitement.

He pointed to a rough-looking boy stating, “This here is Jason. He just turned 15. He’s a few months older than the next youngest.” The boy smirked at Marinette in acknowledgment of his introduction.

Bruce finally gestured to a girl with Asian features saying, “This is Cassandra or Cass. She’s 14, but like I said, a few months younger than Jason.” The girl seemed to be peering through her very soul. After gazing for a few seconds, she hummed in what Marinette deemed to be satisfied as if she liked what she saw.

Bruce then turned towards her, “And you’ve already met Richard or Dick. Thank you for bringing him back.”

Marinette smiled in acknowledgment of his compliment before replying, “It was nothing Monsieur Wayne. He was all alone, so I had to help him. But he was delightful the whole time. Now as for what I came here for, what type of clothes have you been looking for–”.

But before she could continue, Dick blurted out, “Daddy, I like Ms. Mari! Can we keep her? I want her to be my mommy!”

The result was instant. The room burst into a flurry of noises, each of Bruce’s kids trying to speak over one another. Marinette was blushing very brightly. In fact, from how hot her face felt, she was sure that she was inventing new shades of red. Marinette looked over to see Bruce’s reaction and squeaked when she saw him staring at her with a sharp, analytical gaze.

Marinette took a few breathes to calm herself down. She then softened both her gaze and voice as she addressed Dick, “Dickie, honey, as much as I loved meeting you and talking with you, I, unfortunately, cannot be your mommy. Bruce is your daddy, and he will someday find a lovely lady who will be your mommy.”

At her last sentence, all or most of the kids seemed to have snorted in amusement. It seemed as if they disagreed with her statement. Dick looked sad and seemed to be growing teary-eyed. Marinette looked over to Bruce for some help but only found him concealing the amusement that he was most likely feeling quite well. If she hadn’t been Ladybug, she probably would have never noticed the slight bit of emotion peaking through his mask. She glared at him reproachfully as if saying, this is your kid, so you need to help me convince him that I would not make a good mother.

He rolled his eyes in return as if trying to say, Don’t kid yourself. You would make an excellent mother. And you’re already attached to him, don’t deny it.

As Marinette sighed in response, Bruce turned away from her towards Dick and knelt to his level. He then gently said, “Now Dick. Miss Mari can’t be your mommy.” Marinette started nodding as if agreeing with Bruce’s words. But then stopped when he continued, “But she can visit you and maybe one day be your mommy.”

Marinette opened and closed her mouth, no words coming out. Before shyly looking down before raising her head, stammering, “Well, I guess I could visit.”

All the kids started cheering in response. The exception to this was Damian. But the corner of his lips was slightly raised as if the start of a smile. Dick bounded over to her, hugging her and babbling out everything he wanted to do with her. And in all the chaos, Marinette’s and Bruce’s eyes met. They both exchanged small smiles.

Marinette then clapped her hands together, reminding them, “I do still have to do a consultation with all of you. So how about we do that, and then we can do something fun together?” Seeing everyone’s nods, Marinette then continued with the consultation. But unbeknownst to anyone in the room, their relationship would change drastically in the coming months. But ultimately, it would change for the better.

One Year Later

It has been a year since the faithful day when Dick requested Marinette to be his mom. And since then, they only seemed to grow closer. She had met Alfred, Bruce’s Psuedo father and the children’s pseudo grandfather. She thought that he was extraordinary. And honestly godsent. She also experienced a lot of adventures with the Waynes. In fact, after only four months of knowing each other, she figured out that they were the Bat-Family. She had caught them once after patrol and raised her eyebrow as if demanding an answer, and god did she get an answer from them!

Marinette and Bruce had also started dating. This change in their relationship occurred a few weeks after she found out their identities. They were now engaged to be married in a few months. All the children had warmed up to Marinette over the months, even Damian, who always withheld his emotions. But they had all come to see her as their mother figure and were ever so grateful for her. And so they wanted to do something for her birthday.

The very morning of her birthday, everything went wrong. Marinette woke up to quite the sight. All over the kitchen was what looked to be cake batter. It seemed as if they were trying to put the baking she had taught them to good use, but they had also made the cake batter explode. Marinette and Bruce stared at the mess before they both started laughing. Marinette had a light, melodic laugh, while Bruce had a very gruff laugh.

Marinette beckoned all of them forward for a hug before proclaiming, “I love that you all were trying to do something for me, but none of you had to do anything. But it’s the thought that counts, so thank you. But next time, please stay away from the kitchen.”

She then shooed them on their way before getting two mops, handing one to Bruce as she passed by him. She kissed him on the cheek before starting to clean up the mess, Bruce following her actions. She then quietly snickered, “Well, this was quite a sight to wake up to on your birthday. I would have thought that today would have been relaxing.”

She looked up to see Bruce shoot her a small look before shaking his head in amusement. “Mari, darling, when has our lives with them ever been relaxing? They are always getting into trouble.”

She snorted in response, “Yes, well, they get it from their father.”

Bruce glared at her lightly before pulling her into a deep kiss, “I don’t know. Their mother seems to be just as chaotic sometimes.”

She shook her head in amusement, pulling herself away from Bruce’s embrace and questioning, “How is this even my life anymore?”

He chuckled lightly, alerting her that he was about to sass her in some way. “Well, from what I remember, about a year ago, you came across this kid that–”

Marinette held up a finger to his mouth, stopping him from uttering another word. She was also glaring at him reproachfully. “Yes, I do know-how. I was there. Now go away so that I can clean up the rest of the kitchen. You’re distracting me.”

He let go of his mop before giving her another deep kiss and then darting away. As he strolled out of the room, he shouted over his shoulder, “Oh, I know how distracting I am. I am well aware of how irresistible I am, ma coccinelle.” He could hear her spluttering in response before yelling back at him, but he continued on his way to his office. Along the way, he chuckled to himself.

Back in the kitchen, Marinette was glaring at nothing. She was also plotting ways to show her fiance who the irresistible one was. She then sighed in happiness. Yes, her life was amazing. A year ago, if someone told her this would be her life, she wouldn’t have believed it. But now she was living it, and god was it amazing. Funny what finding a child will do to you, Marinette thought to herself before carrying on with her task of cleaning up the mess her kids had made. Yeah, life was amazing.

2,683 words

I actually got it done!

~ ❄ Crystal ❄

@mominettemonth

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[deepdarkdelights]

10 Years (Jungkook x Reader) (10 Seconds Part 3)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 14.4k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Manipulation, Murder, scenes of Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Past Trauma, Mentions of Past Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Torture (not depicted), Cult Like Activity, Forced Relationships, Smut, Blood (lots of it), Fear, Contraception 

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

Preview:  He was made for sunset, his skin was practically glowing in the golden filter of light. You had never wished more in your life that he hadn’t met you the way he did. The more time you spent with him the more you wondered what it would have been like if he had talked to you that first day of classes. Would he have still gone this far? Those were dangerous thoughts to be thinking, but when he was this gentle with you it was hard to stop the prick of tears at the corners of your eyes. He confused you so much, and you knew what this was. Acting can sometimes feel more real than it truly is.

A/N: SURPRISE! HAPPY HALLOWEEN BABIES! Just for you, here is part three! I spent a whole week dedicating hours to write it so I could have a treat ready for you this Halloween! To date, this is my favorite chapter and I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did!

Read Part Here (1) // Read Part Here (2) // Read Part Here (4)

You had pissed him off, that much was obvious. His fingers were still curled into the fabric of your underwear, one flex away from ripping them off. His jaw was tense and his cheeks hallowed in irritation as he fixed you with his intense glare. Jungkook was many things to you, the number one being your source of immeasurable fear. In that moment though, your glare was just as harsh; you were just as angry as he was but for far different reasons. 

You were angry, but you also weren’t stupid. You knew that this could go one of two ways. You could fight back and piss him off further resulting in another punishment or him taking you anyways. Or you could play his game. 

For once, you thanked God that you were such a fucking crybaby because letting all your pent up feelings out was going to be good for what you were going to do next. Your lips trembled as your eyes watered, brimming with tears that threatened to wet your flushed cheeks. You clenched your eyes shut as a choked cry left your lips, your hand coming up to harshly smack his chest. 

“You don’t really love me!” You cried, trying to roll onto your side and away from him while curling your hands into your near naked chest. 

There was a pause of silence between the two of you, his confusion palpable. You pulled your legs free from him and curled up into a ball, loud sobs leaving your chest that sounded more animal than human. As your cries grew louder he finally snapped out of shock, his hands desperately reaching for you as you shrunk away from his touch. 

“Baby, baby!” He called, his voice sounding more hurt each time you rejected him; shrinking into yourself further. “Of course I love you, how couldn’t I?”

“No!” You yelled, sounding more like a petulant child than a scorned lover. “All you want is to use me, you don’t care about me!” You cried dramatically, turning onto your stomach so you could bury your face in your forearms. 

It was like all of the events you had endured were becoming fuel for you, each horrible thing he had done to you spurring tears upon tears to help your performance. You would make him believe you, you had to if it would buy you some time. 

“That’s not true! I love you more than anything, I just wanted to show you how much I love you, baby.” He said, his hands sliding over your waist and under your stomach to turn you over to face him. Your eyes remained clenched shut as he rolled you over, your face wet and hot from the tantrum you had thrown. You almost had him, you could feel him walking straight into your trap. You had him right where you wanted him. 

“You don’t care,” You sobbed, shaking your head. “You only want to have sex with me. You don’t even care about what I want.” You sniffled, bringing your shaking hands up to cover your tear streaked face.

“Fuck, that’s far from the truth. Please tell me what you want, baby. Please, I’ll do anything for you.” He whispered, his much lager hands gently curling around your smaller wrists and prying them from your face so he could catch a glimpse of you. 

Your heart pounded harder at his words, your first thoughts heading towards your freedom. But you quickly stunted that thought, you knew when he said “anything” he meant “anything but that.” You would have to make do with what you had, and your first mission was to keep yourself untouched by him. 

He brought your hand up to his face, pressing light kisses to each finger as soft pleas fell from his lips. He really was at your mercy, intoxicated by your scent, touch, and doe eyes. All it took was a few tears to have him like this for you. But you still knew better, you knew there was a beast lurking beneath the surface of those innocent round eyes and bunny-like smiles. You wouldn’t be fooled by him.

“I-” You began, a hiccup breaking your voice. “I want to save myself for marriage, I always have.” You said, forcing yourself to remain still as he ceased pressing kisses to your knuckles only stopping to raise your hand to cup the smooth flesh of his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut as leaned into your palm, breathing in your scent just by your pulse.

“So, you’re my good girl then? No one else has touched you?” He asked, long lashes still grazing the dips beneath his eyes. 

You nodded in affirmation only to realize he still couldn’t see you. “Yes, no one has.” You agreed.

A sigh of relief had him falling limp against you, removing your hand from his cheek so he could press a kiss to the center of your palm. His demeanor had shifted so quickly even you were surprised. He gently looped his arms beneath your waist and dragged the two of you up into a sitting position, sliding you onto his lap with ease and pressing your chest to his own. It was horrifyingly intimate, the feeling of his bare chest flush against your barely clothed one. He was warm and strong and would have been comforting had the circumstances been different.

That was something you thought often: had the circumstances been different. But they weren’t. Jungkook was as selfish as he was lonely, and because of that he was delusional and overbearing. Sometimes his presence closed in so tightly on your own you felt as if you couldn’t get a single breath in. And because of that, you longed to be miles away from him. He was suffocating you so slowly and ever so painfully. 

His fingers wove themselves into your hair, guiding you to rest your head on his shoulder as he held you close. “I'll wait for you, and only for you.”

Hook, line, and sinker. 

He held you to his chest for a while and nothing was said between the two of you. There was only the steady rise and fall of your chests against one another while his fingers carded through your hair. Your eyes had fluttered shut yet your body was still tense, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be touched in this way. But you knew you could never fully let your guard down around him, he was far too unpredictable. But all that time spent with him had been in your favor, now you knew what made him tick. And you were going to exploit that.

Jungkook pulled you away from his body, his eyes tracing your face. He gently cupped your face in his hands and pressed a delicate kiss, so light it was barely there, to your lips. You could feel him sigh against your lower lip before he reluctantly pulled away. He had to prove to you now that he wasn’t solely after your body, although that was an added benefit for him. He could wait, just for a little while longer.

He leaned over the side of the bed and scooped up his previously abandoned shirt, guiding your arms through the sleeves and pulling the collar down over your head. He couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of your head popping up and out of the shirt, your figure drowning in his clothes. His eyes strayed, following where the hem of his shirt laid at the tops of your thighs. You were so tempting, it was no wonder you thought he was only after your body.

Before he could get too distracted he leaned over you and yanked the chain of the lamp, effectively drowning the two of you in a deep pool of darkness. You froze for a moment, your heart thudding as you lost sight of him and what he was doing. You couldn’t see him, but you could still definitely feel him. His strong arms had already curled around your waist, yanking you down on top of him. You yelped in fear as you once more collided with his chest. The man was like a fucking brick wall. You could feel the ginger brush of his fingers around your wrist, guiding your hand to rest on his bare chest as he tucked your head into the crook of his neck. You were sure if anyone were to walk in you would look like lovers. How far from the truth they would be.

You were shaking now, the reality of what has almost happened finding you in the seclusion of the dark. But you had to remind yourself, you had outsmarted him this time. You were finally beginning to understand the game: fake it til you make it. If you could play along for long enough then you could find your way out of here. And you were more determined than ever. 

“You cold, baby?” Jungkook asked, breaking the silence first. He must have felt you shaking. 

You nodded in response, trying to play off what you were actually feeling. Fear. Jungkook grasped the edge of the blanket and pulled it up higher, pressing the two of you together beneath the warmth of the covers. You closed your eyes once more, and this time you tried to pretend he was someone else. Anyone else. It was much harder than anticipated, you knew his scent, his touch, and his form. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get rid of him. 

But you would try. 

You could feel sleep coming for you, the crash of emotions you had survived finally taking their toll on you once more. 

You had made it 10 days, how much longer would you have to last? 

“Baby,” Jungkook hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

Long enough to escape, that was for sure. 

~~~~~~~

The next day, things already seemed to be so different. To say you were surprised was an understatement. The ten days of hell you had endured with Jungkook could have been a dream for all you knew. He still was the same way you remembered him to be, clingy, whiny, and overbearingly affectionate. But for the duration of that day, nothing he did had the same sexual undertone you had dealt with for the past ten days.

You were relieved, it seemed like you were finally getting a hold of your horrible situation. Well, for now at least. Jungkook was going to be far easier to fool than his father. And you couldn’t lie, his father terrified you to no end. He had trained Jungkook’s mother into absolute obedience with his unrelenting and ruthless nature. You were sure that if anyone was going to be able to spot your fakery from a mile away, it was going to be him without a doubt. So you had one choice, you were going to have to sell it good. 

And that meant having to do things you really didn’t want to do. 

Very quickly, you found yourself taking on the role of a traditional housewife. Jungkook had made it clear before that that was something he didn’t expect from you. All he wanted was you, or so he claimed. He said that he liked doing things together, he didn’t want you being forced into the traditional role you never truly wanted. But you knew what his father expected, and if you were going to win this game you were going to have to sacrifice a few of your pieces.

And you also knew that if you could keep this charade up for long enough, you could fool them all. It was only a matter of time, and you were willing to give up a few days, weeks, or months to find your freedom again. And if that meant making meals with Jungkook’s mother, cleaning the house, and folding fucking laundry you would do it all with a smile.

Days were passing faster and melting into weeks, and at this point you couldn’t really tell how long you had been missing. You wondered if your family was looking for you, if your friends missed you, or if everyone assumed you were dead in a ditch at this point, your flesh melting away and returning to the earth from which it came from. Sometimes, you even wondered if that would have been better. To have been discarded and left to disappear if it meant you didn’t have to pretend to be something you weren’t and if it meant that you wouldn’t have to live in fear of being punished for a misstep or cower under the sharp glare of Jungkook’s father. But you were determined, fucking terrified but so determined to make it out of this alive. 

The call of your name pulled you from the lull of your thoughts. You shook your head to clear you from your daze. Your hands were plunged under warm soapy water, a plate held in your motionless hands. 

“There you are, I thought I lost you for a moment.” Jungkook’s mother giggled, her small hands delicately drying the plate in her grasp. 

You gave her a gentle smile in response, lifting the plate from the water and giving it one more rinse before handing it over to her. There was one upside to this endeavor, you had someone you could call a friend. You liked her, it was hard not to with all of the time you spent together. Her warm, motherly nature was comforting in a place like this. And it made you miss your own mom even more.

“Jungkook seems happier lately.” She mused, gazing out of the window above the sink. You followed her line of sight, seeing Jungkook and his father outside on the back deck with the red flare of a cigarette tucked between his father’s lips. 

She wasn’t wrong, ever since you had started playing along he seemed more relaxed, happier even. Even now a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he listened to whatever his father was saying. But you could tell he wasn’t really listening, his eyes had that far off look to them like he was somewhere else entirely.

“I guess I have you to thank for that,” She said softly, setting down the freshly dried plate to turn and look at you. “I’ve never seen him so happy before. Jungkook was always a quiet child, he kept to himself for the most part. But you bring out parts of him I rarely got to see.” She smiled.

Yeah, the depraved parts are what you brought out. You let out a gentle sigh, welcoming the faux smile you had grown accustomed to to settle on your lips. “I wish we could have met on different terms.”

That wasn’t a total lie. 

“I know, sweetie. The first couple years are always the hardest.” She replied, lightly resting her hands on the tops of your shoulders with a tender smile. “It just takes some time for people like us, outsiders, to get used to their way of life.”

This wasn’t the first time she had told you this and it most definitely wouldn’t be the last. Sometimes you forgot she wasn’t just a mother, she was a person who has been brainwashed so meticulously you had no doubt all of the work that had been done on her had no way of coming unraveled. And you would be damned if you were going to let that happen to you too. You liked her a lot, and she liked you too. But you had no doubt in your mind that if it came down to it, she would never help you escape. Most likely, she would turn you over to her husband and son. You couldn’t trust anyone, not even the person who had once been like you.

“I hope so.” You lied through your smile, gently squeezing her wrist in affirmation. Ever since you had stopped crying, it had become easier to lie. 

The sliding glass door off of the kitchen slid open with a click, the scent of cigarette smoke wafting into the kitchen. Jungkook’s father stood in the doorframe, peering into the kitchen and settling his gaze on you and his wife. He fixed you with a stern look, the look in his eyes practically freezing you to your spot like a deer in headlights. 

The only ones you were fooling were Jungkook and his mother. That much was obvious. 

“Baby!” Jungkook called, his bunny smile and doe eyes catching your attention from behind his father's shoulder where he was standing on the porch. 

He looked so relaxed compared to the first few weeks you had spent with him. Had you already lulled him into the belief that you were finally becoming compliant to his demands? You couldn’t be too sure. He was leaned back against the deck fencing, his elbows propped up behind him on the top of the fence. His one leg was a little stretched out in front of the other one as he looked at you, the golden cast of the setting sun bathing his lithe form. He looked like any other normal guy on vacation at the lake: a pair of ripped jeans tucked into thick boots and an open flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Your eyes lingered over the tattoos that decorated his arm, he really would have been any girl’s dream guy. It was a shame that he had to warp that into a nightmare.

Jungkook’s smile widened eagerly as he motioned for you to join him. Outside. 

Your heart began to flutter in your chest, it felt like the wings of a hummingbird thrumming in anticipation as the latch of its cage was lifted. You tried your best to calm yourself, you remembered what happened the last time you had fled into the woods, it had only taken mere moments for him to find you once again. You had not a doubt in your mind that Jungkook knew these forests better than anyone. You couldn’t run, not just yet. You hadn’t fooled everyone. You were sure that a better opportunity would arise. 

You took a calming breath and quickly dried your hands off before approaching the door. Jungkook’s father remained in the doorframe, his presence casting a shadow over you. He scared you far more than Jungkook did, and for the first time in your life you were willing to run into the arms of your captor if it meant he would keep you out of the way of his father’s wrath. That was the one thing you were sure of when it came down to it - Jungkook would protect you if he was in love with you like he claimed to be.

Your head was bowed low, your eyes fixed to your bare feet and the tile beneath them. You looked like a rabbit - you remained still like it would stop the curious predator from approaching. 

“Don’t try anything if you know what’s good for you.” He whispered lowly, his voice was gravelly and deep in his chest. The smell of smoke wafted under your nose as he stepped to the side, allowing you access to the deck. You flinched from his sudden movement before hurriedly rushing past him and outside. 

The fleeting sun felt so good against your skin, your chest heaved as you took in a deep inhale of the fresh air. It felt like layers of clothes and weights had been removed from your body and the oppressive weight of Jungkook’s father’s stare was confined to the inside of the lake house. This was the freest you had felt in weeks, or what had most likely turned into months. Time was escaping you faster and faster every day.

You jolted in surprise, your eyes fluttering open as Jungkook’s fingers grazed the smooth skin of your hand. You hadn’t heard him approach in your moment of euphoria. He looked down at you with a gentle smile and a gleam to his chocolate brown eyes. He was made for sunset, his skin was practically glowing in the golden filter of light. You had never wished more in your life that he hadn’t met you the way he did. The more time you spent with him the more you wondered what it would have been like if he had talked to you that first day of classes. Would he have still gone this far? Those were dangerous thoughts to be thinking, but when he was this gentle with you it was hard to stop the prick of tears at the corners of your eyes. He confused you so much, and you knew what this was. Acting can sometimes feel more real than it truly is. The last thing you wanted was to fall victim to Stockholm syndrome. And you knew you weren’t, he still made you uncomfortable and he had done awful things to you. Thoughts like those could override any one of his sweet, innocent looks. For now. If you didn’t act faster, time would grasp you in it’s clutches. 

Jungkook raised his hand to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking the flesh of your cheek as his other hand came to rest on your waist. He looked at you like you were the center of the universe, like nothing else mattered to him anymore. His touch was warm but his gaze was uncomfortable. You didn’t want him to look at you like that, like he was in love with you. Not after everything he had done. 

But you also couldn’t deny that there was a part of you that understood him. His father was fucking horrible and he had you, his wife, and his son all under his thumb. Jungkook and his mother were captives just as much as you were. That was the only sympathy you had ever felt for him.

Jungkook’s eyes had slid shut, his large hand encircling your wrist and raising your open palm to his lips to press a light kiss to the center of your hand. That was something he had started doing, but you never dared to ask him about it. You had assumed it was his way of keeping himself together, like he was taking a small hit instead of drowning himself in ecstacy. It was like he was pacing himself with you.

“Walk with me?” He whispered, his eyes slid closed as he breathed in your scent, the two of you encompassed by the light of the setting sun. 

“Okay.” You answered softly, trying to keep your legs cemented to where they were before they took flight and had you fleeing the lake house once again. 

Jungkook smiled at you again, his fingers hastily lacing yours with his own. His tight grip would be enough to keep you grounded for now. 

He led you down the steps until your feet met the soft grass once more. The cuts to your feet had healed and the feeling of the grass between your toes was soothing and comforting. Jungkook’s grip was loosening and  allowing him to gently tug you in the direction of the lake. You had only seen it from the windows of the house and just barely when it was illuminated by the moon that night you had tried to flee for the first time. You pushed down the thoughts of escape as your pace began to match his, your hands hanging between the two of you and swaying gently as you approached the little beach at the edge of the large, blue lake.

Your eyebrows began to knit together in confusion as you caught sight of the full stretch of the beach. There looked to be a little porch that began on the grass and stretched over the sandy beach. It had a wooden terrace stretching overtop decorated with fairy lights and was exposed to the sky above. You could see there was a thin air mattress set on top of the deck area covered in various pillows and blankets with a cooler set aside. It was insanely intimate and bordered on romantic. Had he set this up for the two of you?

You shivered in discomfort, unsure of what to do. Maybe you should suggest walking down by the water, you really didn’t want to go over to that “love nest.”

“Arms out.” Jungkook suddenly said, sliding in front of you. You looked at him in confusion until he set his hands on your arms and raised them up by your sides. He wordlessly slid the flannel off his shoulders and began to help you slip the sleeves onto your bare arms. He thought you were cold again. At least you could use that as an excuse during your ploy.

The shirt was big on you which was no surprise at this point. All of his clothes were baggy on you, most of them were baggy on him too. You looked like a child who had gotten into their parents closet. But the look in Jungkook’s eyes spoke volumes. It was a possessive thing, he liked seeing you in his clothes, he liked it when his scent lingered on you. He liked that he had you where he wanted you. Little did he know, you had him where you wanted him as well. 

Once he was done fixing his shirt around you he smoothed the collar down and sent a smile your way. “Come on.”

Jungkook tried to walk forward, your grip on his hand stopping him short. He pivoted on his heel, the sand kicking up slightly. “Baby? What’s wrong?”

Your teeth sunk into the flesh of your lower lip as your eyes focused on the sight of a little crab crawling quickly across the surface of the sand. “Can we go over there?” You asked, jerking your head in the direction of the lake. 

Jungkook turned, his dark eyes settling on the waves rushing over the shallow drop off of sand. “Hm, not today. It’s pretty cold, I don’t want you to get sick sweetheart.”

“I won't,” You tried once more, your eyes wide and pleading. “Jungkook-”

“We’ll go tomorrow.” He cut you off, his eyes boring into your own. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know that this wasn’t up for debate. If he wanted to do something that badly, he was going to do it. He gave your hand a firm tug and pulled you into him, his arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders and tuck you into his side.

You didn’t look at him as you walked, your eyes fixed to the sight of your toes turning over the sand as you walked. But you could feel his stare burning into the side of your head like it always was. Every time you thought just maybe he couldn’t be that bad, he reminded you quickly of what your situation was like. He has the final say in everything, whether he agreed or disagreed with you. 

The two of you stepped up onto the little wooden terrace, Jungkook taking a seat on the mattress and pulling you down in between his legs allowing your back to lean up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and set his chin on the top of your head. The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon of the lake casting an ethereal glow over the water. 

You were glad you didn’t miss this sight, you supposed. It was probably the most uplifting thing you had seen in a long while. It wouldn’t be long now before the sun disappeared and it would be dark across the lake. Already the lights strung up above you seemed to be growing stronger as the sun faded away. 

You could feel Jungkook’s hand coming up to play with your hair, his touch the most delicate it had ever been. It was so gentle that if you closed your eyes you could pretend it was just the wind ruffling your hair. He spoke your name softly, the hand that had occupied your tresses caressed the length of your arm and settled on the top of your hand. Your brows knitted together in confusion as you felt his other hand flip yours over and settle something in the center of your palm. It was smooth, cold, and metallic to the touch with hard edges. 

You dropped your chin and searched for whatever it was he had just given you. He laughed softly, cupping your palm shut so that you couldn’t see.

“Ask me.” He simply said, his eyes aglow with mischief.

“Let me see.” You said, trying to pry your fingers open beneath his hold. It was no use.

“Try again, maybe a little nicer this time.” He teased.

 You huffed in frustration, already over whatever he was up too. “Jungkook, give me back my hand, please.” You said, adding more emphasis than needed on the “please.”

He chuckled low in his chest and released his grip on your hand. Without thinking you uncurled your fingers and looked at what he had given you. On sight you felt a wave of nausea roll through your stomach, your heart dropping in your chest. 

Sitting delicately on the smooth skin of your palm was an engagement ring. 

You couldn’t move, you were frozen in absolute fear. The only thing you could feel was the violent thudding of your heart in your chest and the beginnings of a cold sweat on your neck. You had either played your part too well, or Jungkook was more than aware of what you had been doing. You couldn’t rule out his father either, he was just as likely as having a hand in this. 

“I’ve waited for ten years to ask you to marry me, and I can’t imagine a better time than now to finally ask you.”

You were spiralling, you could feel the beginnings of a panic attack coming. Your vision was focusing and unfocusing, the sound of your rapid heartbeats pounding in your eardrums. Were you having a heart attack? It felt like you were having a heart attack. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like your lungs were swelling and cutting off any oxygen that tried to slip into your mouth. 

But there was one thing you could focus on, he said ten years. That math didn’t make sense, when the two of you had first met in highschool and that was only four years ago. 

“Ten years?” You echoed, the panic clear in your voice. How many more secrets was he harboring?

He hummed in response, his slender fingers picking up the diamond embedded ring from your grasp. You hadn’t realized how tightly you had been holding it until he took it from you, the diamond had made little incisions in your palm that were running with specks of blood. 

“I first met you when we were freshmen, but I first saw you when we were little.” He reminisced, a far off look in his eyes as he toyed with the ring. “I just caught a glimpse of you, but that was enough. You were wearing a white sundress and the cutest little butterfly sandals. I remember I asked my mom if you were an angel. She told me no, but I told her that I was going to marry you anyways because you were so pretty. And I kept my promise, didn’t I? 

You could feel yourself fading faster than the sun, you were so confused and panicked your body was on the brink of shutting down. You could feel the burn of bile rising up your throat as he lifted your left hand and gently slid the ring down your ring finger.

“You don’t have to say yes, but you can’t say no.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. “That’s how it works in my family.”

~~~~~~~

You don’t remember much of what happened before you passed out, but you did wake up wrapped in Jungkook’s arms in his bed under the blankets. And that goddamn ring was still on your finger. And if things weren’t already bad enough, then they were bound to get worse. You were getting “married” in only a few days. 

To say that was jarring didn’t even cover half of what you were feeling. Not only was Jungkook trying to keep you bound to him in every way possible, but it was going to happen and fast. You tried to calm yourself by remembering whatever ceremony you were going to go through would not be legally binding. You wouldn’t actually be married in the eyes of the law. The two of you would have to get a marriage license and have it approved with witnesses, and there was no way you wouldn’t get help if you were dragged to a courthouse. Jungkook was persistant but he wasn’t stupid. This would be purely symbolic, and nothing more. But that thought did not drive away your stress or the butterflies in your stomach. 

And of course your short days full of trying on various dresses and hairstyles did not help one bit. Jungkook’s mom was excited, her face aglow with pure happiness as she chose dresses on your behalf and made even more decisions regarding  the ceremony on your behalf. Apparently, that was tradition. The “outsider” was rarely involved in situations like these, the mother in law and the prospective spouse took care of everything. You were too sick to your stomach to do anything, no matter what you said you knew that Jungkook wouldn’t listen to you. He had waited ten years to propose he said, there was nothing that would stop him from finally getting what he wanted. And once the two of you were “married” you were out of excuses to deny his advances. You were so fucked. 

Maybe you should have ran into the woods again when he had taken you out of the house. You should have just thrown caution to the wind and tried again. No, Jungkook would have caught you. You knew that. Maybe it would have been better to lay yourself in the lake and float away into nothingness. But you knew, no matter what you did or where you went Jungkook would follow you to the ends of the earth. He was inescapable, and the thought of that left you with an intense feeling of claustrophobia. Much like the prey you were, he would hunt you down and corner you with no possibilities of escape before going in for the kill. 

It still wasn’t time to run yet, you had convinced yourself of that. Now really would be the worst time to flee with the influx of members of Jungkook’s family arriving for the “wedding” that was to take place. Just the thought of that word had your stomach churning in unease.

His family was much larger than you expected and, to your horror, they all were just like him. Every single one of them knew about your predicament, and in fact amongst them were people like you who had been dragged into this life. Amongst the supposed wedding party were kidnappers and victims who were all coming to celebrate another successful hunt and capture of a prize. 

It only took five days to gather everyone and everything for the ceremony. It had all been rushed in order to get you to this point where you were once again in the room you had first woken in when Jungkook had taken you. Or, as his mother liked to call it, the bridal suite. The room itself hadn’t changed though, the walls were still that off white color, the barred windows still surrounded my lacy, gauze curtains, and the bedspread was still baby pink, white, and frilly. The only difference was the wedding gown hanging from a hook on the bedroom door.

You ran your fingers through your freshly washed hair, knotting the tresses in your hold and tugging in anxiety. Your leg was bouncing rapidly, how had it gotten to this point? How were you supposed to go out there and do this? You couldn’t. Not when you were about to be surrounded by kidnappers and their pets kept closely to their side. 

A knock to the door had you rocking back in surprise, your head jerking up to see who was there. The door remained shut and silence followed suit. You looked on in curiosity until a voice called your name through the door. 

“Are you decent, sweetheart?” It was Mrs. Jeon. 

“Yes.” You replied, your voice cracking. The shower you had just taken wasn’t enough to hide all of the crying you had been doing all morning. But at least you didn’t have to see Jungkook, that was one upside. He refused to come near you until the ceremony, he was a firm believer that it was bad luck to see you beforehand.

You were grateful. 

You heard the click of the lock being undone before you saw the door swing open and Mrs. Jeon pocket the key she held in her hand. She looked happy, far more excited than you had anticipated. She was already done up for the ceremony, a formal dress laid over her figure and her hair twisted into an updo. She was naturally pretty and you could see what resemblance she had to her son. It sent a chill down your spine.

Not much was said between the two of you as she ushered you over to the vanity, gently gripping the tops of your shoulders and guiding you down onto the stool. Her work was done quietly and delicately. And you were so out of it, you didn’t pay much attention. Your eyes were dull and unfocused, staring into the mirror but not processing what you were seeing in the slightest. 

“Sweetheart, what I’m going to tell you will be very important so I need you to listen closely.” She hummed, her hands fluttering around your face as she began to lightly apply makeup. “Have you ever been to a wedding?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as she gently applied eyeshadow to your lids. “Yes.”

“Good, then you already know what to expect. But, there are going to be some changes.” She said, tilting your head back with a feather light touch. “During the ceremony, don’t say anything.”

“What?” You asked, your face tensing in confusion. You felt her hands gently tap your cheeks, a silent way of signaling you needed to relax the muscles of your face. 

“Jungkook will take care of everything, vows and all. You just need to be there as he does so.” She explained. That made sense in some twisted way. If no part of the ceremony involved you talking, then you couldn’t exactly say no. “The objections will be left out as well.”

How ironic. 

“Other than that, things will go exactly how you expect them too. As long as you do your part, everything will be just fine.” She smiled as you opened your eyes once more. 

You felt her hands lightly smoothe your freshly styled hair, a fond look gracing her kind features. You felt a strange connection to her, you supposed it had to do with your shared experiences. She was taking on the role of a twisted mentor, imparting some of her “wisdom” onto you to help you as best she could.

The part you were most scared of came next, the dress. You tried your best not to look at yourself as the chiffon and lace slid smoothly over your bare skin. It was cool to the touch, light and airy unlike most dresses you had seen brides wear. By all rights it was stunning, you only wished you didn’t have to wear it if it meant that you would be walking down the aisle towards a man you never dreamt of being yours.

You wore no veil, and for that you were thankful. You couldn’t stand the thought of Jungkook having to lift it from your face like you had seen done before time and time again. Instead, a halo of white carnations and fabric butterflies graced the crown of your head. They were real, their scent fresh and welcoming. A part of you ached at the thought of them withering away, their stems having been sliced apart. They were beautiful, but would only be that way for a fraction of time.

You seated yourself on the edge of the bed, your bare feet gently grazing the silk of the comforter. Your heart was pounding wildly, this was a different type of fear you had never felt before. It was the anxiety of having to provide a performance for all of Jungkook’s family and the knowledge that you couldn’t run. 

Mrs. Jeon knelt down to the floor, a soft groan falling from her painted lips as she felt the ache in her knees. She reached a slender arm out underneath the bed, retrieving a white box tied closed with a satin ribbon. You looked on in curiosity as she carefully untied the bow and set the ribbon on the mattress.

“I wore these, Jungkook’s grandmother wore them, and the women before her.” She explained as she tugged the lid of the box free.

Upon seeing what laid inside the box, tears immediately began to prick at the corners of your eyes, your heart pounding wildly against your ribcage. Your shaky hand came up to cup your mouth to stifle any cries that attempted to escape. Held between the soft hands of your captor’s mother was a set of leg cuffs, each cuff meant to be sealed around your ankles that were held together by a length of chain that would prevent you from taking the strides you would need to run. They were treating you like a prisoner. 

“I-I can’t put those on,” You choked, “Please, please don’t make me do it.” You sobbed, shuffling away from her as best you could. 

“Oh, sweetie.” She cooed, setting them back down into the box and bringing you into her motherly embrace. “It’s only for a short while, I promise they’ll be off by your first dance. And they’re not as heavy as they look and no one will see them under your dress.”

“I don’t want to.” You sniffled as her fingers gently tapped away the tears in an attempt to stop your makeup from running. 

“I know, neither did I.” She sighed, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Jungkook thought you didn’t need them but my husband thought it would be for the best.”

You froze at what she said. His father wanted this. 

“He’s a man of tradition for sure.” She giggled, rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to relax you. “It’ll be quicker than you think, trust me.”

There was no room for debate, you had learned that quickly with the Jeon family. They always got their way and never took no for an answer. You experienced that first hand. So, all you could do was close your eyes, clench your fists, and tense your jaw as she snapped the cold metal cuffs around each of your ankles. 

“See? Not so bad.” She hummed before taking your hand and helping you to stand. “Everyone is waiting on us, it’s best we don’t keep them waiting any longer.”

She guided you out of the room, the sound of the chain connecting your anklets dragging over the wood of the floor sent a cringe to your face. They were loud. From what you knew, the ceremony was to take place outside right in the fringe of the forest. At least there would be grass and maybe then they wouldn’t be as distracting or cacophonous as they were now. At least that was what you hoped, it was like if you pretended they weren’t there maybe they would actually disappear. 

You didn’t make it far before you felt that familiar, sharp glare digging into you. His father was already here. 

“Now, since your father won’t be able to give you away we’re going to. Isn’t that nice?” Mrs. Jeon smiled, a sharp contrast to the stoic face of her husband. 

The thought of having to wrap your arm around his own nauseated you more than anything. Being with Jungkook was like heaven compared to his father. You feared his hold and gaze to the point that you craved Jungkook’s touch. Anything was better than having to be that close to a man so evil. 

You didn’t respond, fear having paralyzed your throat. It didn’t matter what you said, it was going to happen anyways. That much you knew to be true. 

The three of you linked arms, you in the middle of the parents of your kidnapper. Mrs. Jeon held your left arm gently, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh of your forearm. Mr. Jeon gripped you tightly, his hold unrelenting and harboring a warning. You wouldn’t be surprised if once he released you his fingerprints would be left behind as purple marks to your skin. 

As the three of you began to walk and exit the lake house, your inescapability became far more apparent. You could see the large crowd of people waiting for you, their eyes burning into you. From the large group, everyone was lining the aisle with their arms linked like they were creating a chain of people in preparation for you. With a horrifying realization you came to understand what they were doing. They were forming a wall on either side of you, creating a tunnel to walk through that would prevent you from escaping. 

They had planned everything out perfectly, years of trial and error and countless “weddings” allowing them to perfect their formula. They knew what they were doing and had no intention of letting you go. They were all sick every single one of them. 

And what was most likely the most upsetting sight was the children in the group, even they  

joined in on the human paper chain. They were little blank slates, perfect models that were trained from day one on what their way of life would be. You couldn’t help but see Jungkook reflected in their gaze. In your mind you could picture him as a small boy, large brown doe eyes watching a bound bride floating down the aisle in her white dress. It was no wonder he was so fucked up, and evidently those children would grow up just like he did. 

This was the first time you thought about fixing Jungkook, as you were walking through the tunnel of people, white petals crushing beneath your feet, and the drag of the chain between your legs like a snake slithering through grass. This was the first time you had even considered that to be a possibility. 

Your head lifted as the thought entered your mind, your gaze flicking around until it settled on him at the end of the aisle under an arch of moss and carnations. He was dressed nicely, but not in a tux like many grooms had been. He wore dress pants, held up by a set of suspenders over his shoulders. The top few buttons of his shirt had been left undone and exposed some of the smooth, tan flesh hiding beneath the fabric. He had also rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, his arm of tattoos proudly on display. He looked relaxed despite the excited smile that lit up his face and the gleam of adoration in those dark eyes. Even you couldn’t deny how attractive he looked like that.

A firm squeeze to your arm had your teeth sinking into your lip as the three of you ceased walking, Jungkook mere steps away from you. This was the first time you wanted to run towards him instead of away from him because it meant you would be able to escape his father. 

“Behave.” His father whispered just beside your ear, his voice deep in his chest and laced with warning. 

Without another word, his hand slipped down your wrist and guided your hand into his sons. And just like that, he and his wife turned and took their seat. And you could finally breathe again. For now. 

Jungkook was smiling at you, that familiar bunny like grin gracing his lips. His hands cradled your own, holding them between the two of you. You were sure he thought all of his dreams were coming true. He tense his fingers, giving your hands a firm squeeze of excitement. You had never seen him happier.

You could see an older gentleman beneath the makeshift altar, you assumed he was there to “officiate” the proceedings. You couldn’t help but zone out, the sight before you was distracting. The makeshift wedding his family had created would have been something out of a dream had this all been voluntary on your part. Forest weddings had always appeared to be so beautiful, and now that you were here you couldn’t help but agree. Strands of green moss formed a canopy above the wedding party, delicate vines of white flowers hanging from above and all around you. The aisle you had walked down had been made of moss, grass, ferns, and flat stones littered with white flowers and petals. 

It was absolutely breathtaking, and you knew once the sun went down and the fairy lights flickered to life it would be even more stunning. 

You were suddenly snapped out of your daze as you felt Jungkook's hand cup the side of your face before leaning down to you and pressing his lips tightly to your own. 

You had missed the entire thing. 

You could vaguely hear the cheers of his family behind you as he held you close, kissing you surprisingly hard in front of his entire family. You could feel your stomach tightening in anxiety and your face flushing with heat in embarrassment. You felt him pull back for a moment, hot air brushing over your lips before he reconnected with you again, and again, and again until you grasped the fabric of his shirt and pulled him away. 

He smiled at you in satisfaction as his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. He was showing off, letting everyone know that you were his and that there was nothing you could do about. 

Your heart was in your stomach, the dread piling up as you felt him tugging you back down the aisle. He giggled as you almost tripped, his strides too long for you to keep up with when your gate was impaired by the length of chain connecting your ankles. Without a word he turned and scooped you up in his arms, ironically carrying you bridal style back towards the lake house where the “reception” was to be held. 

You turned your head to look over his shoulder, your eyes widening as you watched his family rushing after the two of you in what could have very well been a stampede. Your eyes lingered on a few of the people coming after you, it wasn’t hard to see who was an “outsider” like you. They had that same hopeless hollowness to their eyes, their will having dried up a long time ago. You could feel your heartbeat quickening as you caught sight of one woman. She walked quickly, trying to keep up with the man beside her as she adjusted the infant in her arms. She looked tired and depressed beneath her layer of makeup. You could see the strain of her smile smooth away when her eyes connected with yours. You could see the message she was sending you clear as day without saying a word. 

“I’m sorry.” 

~~~~~~~

The reception was the most normal part of the wedding and something you were more familiar with. The only change was instead of the garter removal, your leg cuffs were removed. There was a part of you that was glad you were spared the mortifying experience of watching Jungkook’s head disappear under the chiffon of your skirt and feeling his lips drag across the length of your leg as his teeth pulled the garter free from you. 

Although, the leg cuffs were just as horrible and embarrassing. You were certain if you didn’t calm yourself down you would be throwing up all over the pristine white dress you wore. You could visualize the pure horror that would spread across Mrs. Jeon’s face.

You were sure that that wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened though. But tonight you had been doing your very best to hide your disdain for everyone there, you still had a part to play regardless of the situation you had been put in. You didn’t have to look happy, you just had to hide your fear to the best of your ability. 

That was easier said than done. 

It was when Jungkook left you alone with his sister that your facade began to crumble away. 

“Jimin, Taehyung!” He yelled, his eyes lighting up as he darted away from the table you were seated at in excitement. You watched him race across the room to the two men he had called for, locking them into a tight embrace. 

Your legs twitched, the thought of fleeing always at the back of your mind. Now would be the worst time of all times, who wouldn’t be able to see the only one dressed all in white sprinting into the woods. The last thing you wanted to do was start a hunting trip.

The soft delicate call of your name reminded you that you were still in company. The empty seat that Jungkook once occupied has been filled by the slender form of his sister. She looked just like him, but softer and feminine. She had a gentle smile fixed to her lips that reminded you exactly of her mother. There was not a single bit of her father in her, genetic wise.

“It’s nice to meet you,” She grinned. “All of these years Jungkook wouldn’t shut up about you and he only lets me meet you once you’re getting married, that little punk.”

You bit your lip before you could spit anything back. You could feel the blood leave your face as she spoke. It always disturbed you when you remembered for just how long Jungkook had been waiting for you, watching you, longing for you. 

“Hell, he was the first person I introduced to my boyfriend.” She said with a roll of her eyes, “I mean of course I couldn’t take him on my own, he was much too heavy for just me alone.”

Your heart stilled as you slowly turned your head to face her. “Too heavy?” You echoed, hoping she didn’t mean what you thought she did. 

“Mhmm, the first time I saw him was at the gym. He was just so much bigger than me I knew I couldn’t take him home on my own. So, I called Jungkook. He made things so much easier, he really is such a good brother to me.” She said with a fond smile, her eyes seeming to glaze as she reminisced. 

All this time, you had assumed it was only the men of the family that partook in the kidnappings. But no, it was anyone who was an “insider.” Anyone who was born into the family. That explained how Jungkook had made no mistakes when he took you, he had practice with someone much bigger than you were. You quickly reached for your glass of wine, chugging back as much of it as you could to calm yourself before you slipped into another attack. 

“He’s right over there,” She sighed, nodding in his direction. “Jackson and I have been together for about six months now, he’s a tough one to train that's for sure.”

You followed her gaze, your eyes settling on the man that stood mere inches away from her father. He was undeniably handsome, but you could still see the fear etched deep into his face as he stood next to Mr. Jeon. You were confused why he was still there, he was strong so he had to be capable of escape. In fact, you were sure he could take down Jungkook’s father quite easily. That was of course until you realized what his handicap was. You were confused for a moment, it looked like he was wearing a choker perhaps. But, upon further inspection you realized what it was. A collar. 

Jungkook’s sister hummed to herself, setting her clutch down on the table next to you before she undid it and pulled out a small remote. “It’s harder for women like us in this family. Subduing guys like Jackson isn’t easy. But one controlled shock works wonders.” She laughed, a sadistic smile curling into her mouth as she stroked the remote. 

So, that was the part of her father she inherited. 

You could see the horror on Jackson’s face as his dark eyes connected with the remote she held between her dainty fingers. Without her even saying a word he was rushing to her side in fear of her even thinking about pressing a single button on that remote.

You were light headed, the sudden realization of just how horrible this family was allowed the glass of wine to slip from your fingers, the dark red liquid spilling over some of the white carnations that rested in front of you decorating them in jagged, red stripes.

“Baby?” Jungkook’s voice called to you, and for the first time that word was comforting to your ears. In comparison to his sister, you had lucked out when it came to the Jeon siblings.

You sent him a strained smile as you lifted the stem of the wine glass and set it back up right. Your gaze lingered on the stained carnations, a sour thought entering your mind as you realized their purity had been stained, and no amount of cleansing would ever get it back. 

“Don’t worry, Jungkook. Your wife and I are going to be best friends.” His sister smiled as her hand curled around Jackson’s.

The two of you looked at one another momentarily, and in his eyes you saw a mutual message. 

“Please, help me.” 

~~~~~~~

You didn’t know how much more you could take, that was for sure. Everyone there was beyond messed up and sent your heart racing just at the sight of them. You were relieved when the crowd began to drain, leaving only a few people loitering around as the night dragged on. 

You had tackled so much in one day, but you knew there was still more to come. 

As the last people headed to their cars, Jungkook’s mother grabbed you by your hand and led you into the house, leaving Jungkook and his father and his two friends outside.

You stumbled after her in confusion, shaken up by the pace she had set. She led you back into what had originally been your room and shut the door tightly behind the two of you. She leaned against it with a gentle smile to her face, but you could see something else in her eyes. She was concerned. 

“I wanted to give you your wedding present here.” She said softly, crossing the room to the dresser pushed up against the wall. 

“I don’t need any presents.” You replied, your teeth gnawing at your lower lip in stress as you thought of what was to come. You knew you couldn’t hold Jungkook back any longer now that you had run out of excuses.

“I think you’ll need this one.” She said, her voice cracking as she slid her hand behind the dresser and pulled something free. She hid the gift behind her back in both hands as she made her way back to you in complete silence. 

Without a word, she raised your hand palm facing the ceiling and set a container in your hand. On sight you immediately recognized what it was. 

It was birth control. 

“What?” You whispered in pure shock, popping it open to make sure it actually was what it appeared to be. 

You raised your head and your eyes connected with hers. She wore no smile like you had seen her with so many times. Her face looked tired and her eyes were clearer than you had ever seen them before. For a moment, she seemed normal. She seemed to be just like you. No words passed between the two of you, all you needed was to see the expression you had witnessed twice earlier that day.

“I’m sorry.”

“Please, help me.”

And now, “I understand.”

The four of you were all the same, people who were suffering and couldn’t escape. She understood better than anyone what you were going through, and she wasn’t as broken as she had originally let on. Some of the original her was still there, a soft ember of a fire that had been snuffed out years ago.

No words passed between the two of you, none needed to be.

~~~~~~~

You heard Jungkook enter before you saw him, your back facing him as you were settled on the edge of the bed. You could feel the bed dip as he climbed on, crawling over to you until his arms could wrap around your waist and his chin could rest on your shoulder. You could smell the wine on his breath as he chuckled.

“Hello, Mrs. Jeon.” He mumbled, pressing his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder with a hum.

A chill ran down your spine at his words, they were foreign to you, they just didn’t seem right because you knew them to be false. He raised his head, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw and turn your head to face him. His fingers lightly stroked the skin of your cheek as he leaned in uncomfortably close. You could tell he was buzzed, a lazy smile stretching across his face as his eyes traced every curve and detail of your face. He looked positively enamored. 

Without any warning he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your own for a moment before pulling back for a breath and leaning in again, and again, and again. 

“I love you.” He whispered against the shape of your lips, his fingers gingerly stroking your cheek as his chest shook with each inhale. It seemed like he could never get used to the feeling of your lips, so warm, soft and wet. How could he not be intoxicated by you?

His tongue gently stroked your lower lip, a whine breaking free from his throat as you kept your lips together, refusing to let him in. Instead of growing frustrated, he let out a soft sigh and pressed another brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, laying a trail of kisses down your cheek and jaw before settling on your neck.

You clenched your jaw, your fingers twisting into his shirt as he began to leave hot, open mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin of your neck, low groans bubbling in his chest from the mere taste of your skin. You could tell how needy he was from the way he harshly sucked purple bruises into your neck, his tongue swiping over each fresh mark with a sweet moan at the end. 

“Love you so, so, so much.” He whispered, his fingers trailing behind your back to pluck at the tiny pearl buttons holding your dress together. You tensed up, but you didn’t push him away. He didn’t stop his assault on your neck as you felt each button springing free, the front of your dress becoming looser and looser with each motion. 

A soft gasp escaped your lips at one particularly harder suck to your throat causing Jungkook to shudder against you as he heard your light cry. He pressed his forehead against your own for a moment, collecting himself while his hands still tried to unloop the back of your dress.

“I wanted you the moment I saw you walking towards me, you looked so perfect, so beautiful. Just like an angel.” He said, his voice shaking as his lips trembled. “I’ve been waiting all day to have you like this, and it was worth the wait.” 

His fingers trailed up the exposed skin of your back, goosebumps raising in their wake. He gently traced the lace of your straps before pulling them down, shimming the delicate fabric free from your torso. His breath caught in chest at the first sight of your bare breasts, the cut of the dress in the back being too low to allow you to wear a bra. 

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned, the tips of his fingers ever so lightly tracing the tops of your breasts. He was pacing himself for your sake, but it was becoming harder and harder for him to keep a hold of himself, especially with the ever present tightening of his pants at the back of his mind. 

He suddenly pressed his lips back to yours once again, this time more frantically and harder than before. His hands came up to your shoulders, pushing you back down into the mattress beneath you. He was breathing much heavier now, unwilling to part from your lips as he tried to roll the fabric of your dress down your hips without leaving you. 

He groaned in frustration against your mouth, pulling back to roughly pull the dress down your body and toss it over his shoulder into the recesses of the room. He sat on his knees, towering above you and staring down at you with a carnal look in his eyes. He hastily began removing his own shirt, his irritation growing as he struggled with each button in his haste.

With a final grunt, he pulled his shirt free and tossed it to join your discarded dress. You froze as your eyes trailed over his naked torso, your heart thundering as your eyes settled on his chest. A fresh clear wrap was sealed against his chest over his heart. You could feel your body tense up as you took in the new ink that had been etched into his skin. He had tattooed your name on his chest. 

Jungkook looked back at you in confusion, unsure as to what caused the look of pure fear to seep into the once passive and smooth features of your face. He followed your line of sight ending on the new piece he had.

 “Do you like it?” He suddenly smiled. 

“I got it as my gift to you. You’ll always be right here,” He said, interlacing your fingers once more and resting your joined hands on top of his heart. “I’ll always love you, my good girl.”

All you could do was clench your eyes shut, it was your only way of taking yourself out of this situation. You could feel his bare chest press against yours, his long fingers tracing over every curve of your body as he shook in excitement. How long he had waited for this moment. To have you in every way possible. 

“It’s alright, I know what to do.” He whispered as you jolted from the feeling of his hand grazing the hem of your underwear, “Let me take care of you, sweet girl.”

You shuddered as he slid them down your legs, another article of clothing that was meant to join the floor. You were tensed up tight, your legs clenched shut in anxiety as you felt his gaze burn into every feature of your naked body. 

“So perfect,” He hummed, “So beautiful.” He cooed, resting his head on your chest as he rubbed slow circles in your thigh, each stroke sending him closer and closer to the juncture of your thighs. 

“Jungkook!” You cried as you felt him force your legs open in one strong pull. 

“Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” He replied before quickly reaching down and stroking the length of your untouched cored. You shrieked at the unfamiliar feeling, clamping your legs closed around his intruding hand. 

“Come on, baby.” He said, coaxing your legs open. “I need to get you ready.”

All you could do was lean your head back into the pillows, squeezing your eyes shut and clenching your jaw as he continued, his fingers ever so lightly coming up to rub firm circles into your clit. You choked a moan back, thighs trembling as you tried your best not to snap them shut once more. 

“So good for me,” He cooed, sucking hickies into the hollow of your collar bone as he pressed his fingers down harder, your hips jerking instinctively up towards the pressure. “So pretty, my wife. Mine.”

He was unrelenting, his tight grip on you sure to reappear as bruises tomorrow morning. He didn’t allow you to hide your desperate whines or shocked gasps from him as he continued to pleasure you, the feeling sending tingles straight from your core all throughout your body. As much as you didn’t want to be with Junhkook, you could admit you were happy he at least knew what a clit was and made this a lot less horrible for you. 

You winced at the feeling of his finger gently prodding at your entrance, a thin layer of wetness coating his finger as he pushed in. You jerked and tensed your muscles at the foreign feeling, trying to pull back and away. 

“Relax. I need to stretch you out.” He said firmly before leaning down and wrapping his lips around one of your sensitive nipples, your tight walls relaxing at the new feeling. And, without warning, he slipped his finger in and began to stroke deep inside you, parts that your own fingers would not be capable of reaching. 

“Fuck!” You cried, tossing your head back as he quickly found that part that made you feel incredibly hot.

“That’s my good girl, fuck.” He groaned into your blushing skin as he thrusted his finger in, grazing that spot that made a new wave of wetness come gushing out. 

“Jungkook!” You groaned, your hand coming between the two of you to lay limply at his chest as you twitched in pleasure. 

He groaned in response, sucking the hardened peak of your chest harder as he continued pumping his fingers, slowly pressing in a second. You whine at the stretch, shaking as you felt his hips begin rutting against your leg, his mouth popping free from you as a needy whimper leaves his throat. 

“I need you so bad, baby.” He whined into your skin, choked groans shaking his chest as he quickened the pace of his hips against your leg and the pace of his fingers strumming against your walls. 

He easily, and embarrassingly, slid his fingers free from your heat, a string of your desire following his retreating digits. Without saying anything he quickly brought his fingers to his mouth and began to suck them clean with enthusiasm, his body shaking like he was in ecstasy just from the mere taste.  

“So fucking sweet.” He moaned, his hands frantically grasping the hem of his pants, shuffling them and his underwear down in one motion. 

You could feel the heat rising to your face at the sight of him, your eyes falling shut once more as your thighs fell closed. He was fucking huge and you didn’t think you could take him. That didn’t really matter now though, did it?

His hands slid down your hips, rubbing small circles in the hallows before he gripped each leg and forced them open and around his slender waist. You kept your eyes clenched shut as you felt him reach in between the two of you, the head of his length brushing against your slick entrance. You were tensing again, anxious for what was to come. You were sure it was going to hurt. You felt his hips push forward and the head of dick just barely slip in as you bared down in fear. 

A soft groan escaped him, his head dropping to your throat. “Baby, you gotta relax for me.”

You whined in response, your body still wound up tight. You could feel him sigh into your throat before his hand lightly caressed your leg and made its way back to your core, his fingers returning to rubbing those firm circles into your throbbing clit. Almost immediately, your walls began to flutter around nothing at the sensual touch, your lips parting as you trembled in pleasure.  And, before you knew it, he forced himself all the way in in one motion. A sharp cry left your mouth as you flung your arms around his neck, tears pricking in your eyes at the sudden flash of pain that invaded your senses. 

Jungkook was shaking above you, his eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy as he forced his hips to remain still. 

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip so hard you could taste your own blood on your tongue. You groaned in discomfort, your cheeks feeling wet as a few tears escaped. You felt incredibly full, so full that it hurt. 

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered open, and upon seeing the tears streaked down your face he quickly tried to calm you. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay.” He whispered, pressing kisses to each streak of tears. 

“Doing so well for me,” He cooed, his fingers quickly circling around your clit once more to work you through your discomfort with pleasure. “Such a good girl.”

As soon as he felt you begin to relax around him, your hips jerking up into his touch, he began to pull his hips back and slowly slide back in at a frustratingly slow pace. His jaw clenched as he kept himself under control, restraining himself from abandoning all restraint and just railing you like he wanted to.

But, once he felt your hips rolling up into his with that sweet whine of your voice he couldn’t help himself. Before you knew it, his hands were laced with your own and pinned down to the mattress, his pace quickening as higher, breathy moans left his chest, his lips leaving hot, wet, kisses to your neck before he rose his head and connected your lips again. 

You moaned into his mouth, surprising yourself at the sounds you were making. His tongue rolled over your lips and without restraint you parted your lips for him. A deep groan left his mouth as he curled his tongue against your own and pumped his length deep into you with a smooth pace. The only sounds filling the room were choked moans and the slap of skin against skin. 

You were already getting closer, the prepping he had done earlier bringing you to this point, the knot in your stomach tightening with each brush of the head of his dick against that spot deep inside you. Your legs tightened around his waist, your fingers gripping his own tightly as he filled you so good. Your walls were clamping down tightly around him, the feeling just far better than you had expected it to be. 

You could do this, you could use this to your advantage. 

One particularly hard thrust had you crying out against the wet, puffy flesh of his lips. You were sure tomorrow both of you would look like a wreck. Jungkook freed his hand from yours, returning to the soft bundle of nerves that begged for his touch. You cried out at the feeling of his length thrusting in and out of your wet core and his dexterous fingers rubbing firmly into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He rambled, snapping into you harder and harder as he felt your warm walls begin to tremble around him. You were going to cum, he could tell. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Show me how good I was, cum all over my cock for me like the good girl I know you are.” He panted into the shell of ear, pressing down harder and fucking into your pliant body faster than before, drawing sharp cries of pleasure from you that you couldn’t keep in any longer.

“Cum for me, please cum for me.” He was practically begging you, you could feel his length twitch inside of you. He was on the edge just like you were, but he wanted you to let go before he did. 

And you did. With a loud cry your back arched, pressing your chest up into his own as you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. Pleasure shot straight from your core and all throughout every nerve of your body, your walls fluttering helplessly around him. You could feel his thrusts become less paced and more frantic, his eyes clenched shut as he chased his release. And the feeling of you tightening so painfully around him was enough to do him in. With a loud moan he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, his hips working himself into you as he came in spurts, your body flinching at the unfamiliar feeling as you tried to catch your breath. 

He whined as he continued to come, filling you up with each pump of his cock. His hips were shuddering with each thrust until he finally fell limp against you. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He mumbled, pressing lazy, wet kisses to your already marked up skin. He still hadn’t removed himself from you and you twitched still from the aftershocks of your orgasm. You feel his cum and his cock still inside you, like he was trying to stop any of it from dripping out. 

“I love you, baby.”

~~~~~~~

When you woke up the next day you were incredibly sore and wrapped up in Jungkook’s embrace. You were sweating, you noticed. Even in his sleep his grip was unrelenting, strong, and inescapable. 

You had hoped after the wedding his parent’s would have finally left, but that was far from the truth. They were still there, and each week you waited for them to come and tell you and Jungkook that they were ready to go home. You wanted them to leave, but another part of you was still deeply worried for his mother. Her behavior had returned to what you knew, she smiled often, she gushed over her husband, and she coddled her son. There was no sight of the woman you had seen the night of your wedding. 

The only reminder you had of your encounter, was the birth control stashed safely behind the dresser in the room that was never used. You snuck in there every day at the same time to take them in secret.

When your period came a few short weeks after your wedding, Jungkook was visibly upset. He didn’t say anything but you knew what he was thinking. He was hoping the various times you had sex between the wedding and your period would have you fall pregnant. He pouted about it, but simply remarked that the two of you would have to try more. He took care of you, bringing you chocolate snacks, heating pads, and plenty of cuddling. Although you never asked for that last part.

You thought you were going to be safe, that this was the one thing you could get away with this time. It only took a few weeks for everything to fall apart.

You were in the shower when the shouting started. You paused for a moment, tilting your head in the direction of the bathroom door. It was a male who was shouting, but over the sound of the water you couldn’t tell who it was. It was the loud shattering that spurred you into action. In seconds you turned the water off and frantically dried your body, throwing on a hoodie and some sweatpants. 

You swung the door open and walked and quietly as you could down the hallway. The yelling was coming from the kitchen. You pressed yourself against the wall and peered into the room.

It was Jungkook’s father screaming at his mother. It looked like she had been making dinner, various pots settled on the stove as well as a kettle. There were ceramic shards littering the floor, you could only assume a plate had been thrown. 

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, you are the only person in this house who could have done this!” He screamed, slamming down a container onto the counter causing his wife to flinch back in fear. 

It was your birth control. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t figure it out? It was a little strange that she was going in there every day at the same time wasn’t it?” He asked, his voice deathly calm. His wife didn’t respond, her gaze pinned to the floor. 

“Fucking answer me!” He screamed, whipping another plate at the wall right beside her head and shattering it into pieces. 

“It was strange.” She echoed, her eyes glazing over. 

“Don’t play games with me, I know damn well she didn’t get them, Jungkook didn’t, and neither did I. If you want your punishment to be easier than tell me the goddamn truth right now.” He snapped.

She was already gone, her mind somewhere else as he screamed at her. You couldn’t stop the torrent of tears from rushing down your face as you witnessed her shutting herself off. Years of toture had made her good at dissociating.

The first hit is what broke you. Without thinking you ran right in between the two of them, wrapping your arms around her as the two of you fell to the ground, cries of pain bursting from your mouth at each hit you endured. He was ruthless, his anger quickly being directed at you. Each punch and kick to your body bringing new blossoms of pain. You stayed firm, your body wrapping around hers to stop the torrent of attacks from reaching her. You could do it for her. 

You felt fingers weave into your hair, pulling you sharply to the ground and causing you to cry out. You struggled as he began to drag you away from Jungkook’s mother by your wet tresses, he was heading to the deck. You had no doubt in your mind he was going to take you outside, torture you, murder you, and dipose of you. 

“Jungkook!” You screamed, thrashing around desperately. “Jungkook! Help!”

You never called out to him for help, never. And that was why he came so quickly. The minute he entered the kitchen his demeanor completely flipped. His eyes settled on his mother, her body laid limp to the floor as she gazed off into nothing. And then he found you, your body being dragged and his father's hand knotted in your hair with marks littering your face. He suddenly reminded you of the Jungkook that took you the first night. His eyes were pitch black and the anger was bubbling just under the surface. 

Your head fell as his father released your hair and you quickly began to scoot back and away from him. You settled yourself in the corner, lifted Jungkook’s mother into your embrace and held her tight. 

As soon as the two of you were safe, he snapped. He grabbed his father by the neck and threw him to the ground, the two of them devolving into a writhing mass of punches and kicks. You could see instantly that Jungkook was going to win, there were no doubts in your mind about that. He had his father pinned quickly and was beating the ever loving shit out of him.

“How fucking dare you!” He was yelling, his face red as he repeatedly laid into him, each hit becoming more brutal than the one before. “How dare you hit my wife! My mother! Fuck you!” He screamed, letting out every ounce of rage he had been holding in. 

You could hear the kettle begin to whistle in the background, the pitch slowly rising as your pulse thrummed strongly. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the sight before you, you didn’t know if Jungkook was going to be able to calm down. He was enraged. 

His father was laying still underneath him, his face bloodied and the only sign of him being alive the rise and fall of his chest. Jungkook finally stopped, sniffing as he rolled off of his father, his knuckles split and covered in blood. But he had stopped far too soon. His father suddenly lurched, dragging him to the ground and wrapping his hands tightly around his son’s throat. 

You watched in shock, Jungkook’s body squirming as he tried to escape, his eyes darting around to try and find you. And, for some reason you don’t exactly know, you reached onto the counter, wrapped your fingers around a knife and slid it across the floor into his waiting hand.  

You snapped your eyes shut as you began to hear the loud grunts of pain from his father each time the knife struck his body. You held Jungkook’s mother close, your hands covering her eyes so there would be no chance of her seeing. The kettle was whistling painfully loud, your heart beating violently as you listened to what was happening. 

And soon, silence fell over the room. You opened your eyes and watched as Jungkook pushed the lifeless corpse of his father to the floor. He rolled over and looked at you, his face, neck, and hands coated in thick, wet, blood. He was shaking as he came down from his adrenaline high. He dropped the knife from his grip, tears suddenly pouring from his doe eyes as he crawled across the floor to you and his mother. 

Loud, pained sobs wracked his chest as he threw himself at you, crying into your neck as he held you tightly.The scent of blood was thick in the air, the sticky, crimson fluid staining your skin as he gripped you tightly to him. He was inconsolable, sobbing like a child as he refused to let you move. 

There was a corpse in the room, copious amounts of blood, Jungkook, you, and his mother. 

You raised your hand and gently began to stroke his hair, curling your arms around his shaking, blood soaked body. You lightly pressed a kiss to the top of his head in an attempt to soothe him, rocking him back and forth. 

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It’s okay.”

[jaeminscoffee]

Apologize | L. Hc

Pairing- Lee Haechan x reader

Genre- Initial angst, smut

Word count- 5.54k

Warning(s)- thick skinned oc, ego problems, argument, Hyuck almost hit's Y/n, angry/rough yet slow sex, riding, orgasm control, stern and slight brat tamer!hyuck, overstimulation. Lmk if i missed out any.

Synopsis- Why do you have to apologize when clearly Lee Haechan is to be blamed too?

Awkward. 

That's how you'd coin the atmosphere around you and your boyfriend the past dating weeks.

Guilty.

That's how you'd felt ever since the day you'd decided to act out. For being a hypocrite and for being a pain in the ass. 

Embarrassed. 

That's how you'd felt after realising that you'd lashed out on him for no rational reason. For losing your temper at him hanging out with a female who'd coincidentally been your rival. She loved him, and god knows if she still does. 

Worried. 

You're anxious that your pettiness would drive him away from you to someone better, possibly the said rival and so you're worried. 

But would you want to play the saint's role and go apologize? No. 

You can't, not while knowing what his reaction would be. Knowing Lee Donghyuck, he'd get cocky. He'll do anything and everything in his power to indulge you in embarrassment. Guilt trip you a while later and demand you'd be a good girl from then forth. Why would you want to do that? Come to think of it, he's one to be in fault too. 

Knowing full well that you'd have a distaste towards Lena, Donghyuck should've known better than publicise the fact that he'd openly hung out with his girlfriend's rival. 

He owes you an apology too when you word it that way. 

Haechan's mood can be summarized in three words, confused, frustrated and disappointed. 

You are the only one glowing in his eyes and he made sure you'd know that. And for someone like him being treated with such disrespect, he was fuming. 

It's not that he intentionally went ahead and planned a hangout with Lena, it just so coincidentally happened that one of his groupmate's her boyfriend, so meeting her was inevitable and Haechan was more than ready to explain it to you, in a calm, civil manner. 

But you just won't listen. 

Not to mention the holiday you'd planned all over last week for a road trip with the gang now seems to be the last thing on his mind now when that was the same thing he'd been so hyped up about. 

You just had to spoil it all for him. 

That explains why Haechan's furiously throwing his clothes into the baggage in order to calm down before whatsoever he's about to face while planning out a strategy to talk things out with you before the trip. 

Surely, his ego's too big to apologize that quick but at the same time, he wasn't petty enough to spoil the atmosphere during the trip, the gang didn't deserve that.

And so with one last cloth thrown into his luggage, he seals the zip and grabs his car keys from the side table with a new-found determination to resolve the conflict before the traveling that's going to take place in three hours to four from now. 

Haechan's going to make it right and he'd make sure of it.

You weren't expecting Haechan's visit at the same time you aren't shocked that he's entered your private space with no prior notice, you'd given him the spare keys afterall. 

"Y/n, we need to talk" 

You hear him close behind you but you pay no mind, continuing to walk back and forth from your wardrobe to your bed, where your package lay spread out, folded in a neat manner and ready to be put inside the luggage you'd get along for your vacation later that evening. 

"Y/n, I said we need to talk." Haechan says with a lot more sternness than before, his voice octaves lower than his usual bubbly voice. 

"I think the talking can wait until later, Donghyuck." you reply with a flat tone, calling out his governmental name in order to irk him up.

"No it can't. Speak it out, love. Let's resolve this now" He reached out to hold your forearm to turn you around so that you're facing him, the look of distaste on your face adding up to his rotten mood. 

"What's there to talk about, Hyuck? I'd told you time and time again that i don't like you around her and what do you do? Go hang out with her! Oh to have a boyfriend who actually listens to you" you peel yourself away from him as though his touch disgusts you. 

It didn't. 

It's just the courage that you'd gathered up to make sure you'd ask for forgiveness on call before the trip was all thrown out of the window due to Haechan's surprise visit. With him in front of you right now, you could do nothing but blurt out the words coming up first without censoring it and you were aware of that. 

That Haechan's ready to put up a fight. 

"She just so happened to be in the group, Y/n i told you that a hundred times already" 

"And she just so happened to be the same person who'd been nothing but rude to me because you chose me over her, totally understandable" you reply in sarcasm. 

"What do you expect me to do then? Ask Sungchan not to bring her along?" He replied with the same venomous tone you carried, slowly growing tired of this pointless argument. 

"No, Haechan. I would've appreciated it if you'd come and told me yourself that she was there! I hate that I had to find it out from Jaemin who didn't even know I was kept in the dark from that information! That made me feel like I knew little to nothing about you!"

"You know that's not true, princess.." Haechan answered with a softer tone, feeling guilty at the fact that your voice had grown smaller and smaller with each passing word. 

"I do not know what's true at this point, Hyuck. I don't even know if you love me enough to let me what's going on in your life at this point."

"Don't cross the line, Y/n."

His voice goes back to the sternness it first carried as a warning. Getting mad at him for not informing you things is one but questioning his love was another. That's not a topic up for speaking. 

No one can question his feelings, which is so genuine that if a stranger were to walk past the couple you two make they'd know from the first look that Haechan's head over heels for you. He'd kill anyone for you, that's how much he loves you. 

"I'm crossing the line? Me? Are you sure, Donghyuck? Because from how I remember it, you did it the first time by hanging out with your girlfriend's enemy without her knowing! Do you even know what would've been my possible thought process at that time?" You ask furiously, 

Haechan was dubious to pose out an answer, so he just let you continue your rant. 

"Do you know how i felt when i saw the story you'd put up with her right next to you being all clingy? How I felt when you didn't pick up my calls or reply back to my texts when I tried reaching out for some sort of assurance that whatever you have with her is platonic and that you're still mine? How i felt when Jaemin was going on about how much she'd been laughing at all you were doing and how you'd enjoyed the reaction?" Your voice quivers the more you continue.

"The answer is no. You don't know anything so just, stop trying to spoil this trip for me and let's take a break. We need it." 

"Break?" Haechan inquires with extreme shock evident in his voice.

"Yes, a break. Maybe that'll help you realise who you actually have feelings for." 

"Y/n that is so uncalled for, you're making a mountain out of a molehill! Why are you making such a big deal out of this?" You flinch at the sudden raise in his voice which had your knees buckle due to the loudness, which, for that matter, you'd heard only once before when you were being careless with dangerous kitchen tools. 

"This is a whole load of bullshit, doll. Do you not trust me enough?" Haechan nears you, his voice dropping low due to frustration, hurt, and disbelief. He'd never seen you be this petty before. 

You back away with each of his step forward, "Maybe I don't! Which is why i think i deserve a bre-"

"Come again?" He strides closer, his gaze growing darker, more stern, angry, with each step. In an utter furious state as you for starters, were questioning his feelings. And now had been questioning your trust for him. 

"I said I don't know if I trust you enough now, Haechan! I'm telling you i need a brea-" 

"Enough!" He took one last step and you'd had no space between you and him, with the wall behind you acting as a barrier to block you from escaping. 

The sudden act of force posed to your body by Haechan practically slamming you onto the wall made your back and the back of your head hurt from the impact, and a groan escapes your lips, but all the softness was long gone from Haechan's features as he didn't show any signs of inquiring if you're okay or not. 

No.

He seemed like he would murder you if you'd dare speak up now. You'd successfully pushed his last button. 

"You're being over dramatic, darling. One, don't act as though you've never hung out with the guys I'd specifically asked you not to. Two, yes, i hung out with her and so what? Was it a date? Was I the only one there alongside her? No. It was a group meeting that, for a matter of fact, I'd invited you to join but what did you do? You said you didn't want to tag along." 

"What's gotten into you, doll. You've never reacted this way before" Haechan reaches out to caress your cheeks, which made you flinch at the contrast of his actions, his words and his expression at that point of time. 

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." You don't. Which resulted in him harshly grabbing your chin, tilting it up to see a slight quiver on your lips. 

"And speak up. You seemed to have a lot to question just a moment ago, what happened now?" See, this is exactly what you hated. That one way or the other, he'd have you cornered, feeling small with him clearly making it evident who has the upper hand. 

"Nothing, Haechan. Nothing happened. I did have a lot to question and i still do, don't think i'd get scared of you by you acting all barks and no bites. I still need a fucking break why don't you understa-!" 

The grip he had on your chin tightened, his other hand raised in reflex, hovering in the air as though it's ready to strike you any minute.

"Know your limits, Y/n. This is pointless and if you're still sane enough to be considered the Y/n i started dating then you'd know you're being irrational and it's starting to fuck me up." 

"And? You're going to hit me for that? You think i'm not the Y/n you started dating? You're no less than me, Donghyuck!" You try pushing at his shoulders in order to create space, that only makes Haechan drop his hands from your chin to your hands, pinning it to the walls, hard enough to prevent any movement. 

"I'm not going to hit you, doll. You know that." Haechan sighs.

"Do i? Do I really?" You're practically shaking part from fear, part from anxiousness and part from the fact that you know you're making things harder to settle down. 

"I'm telling you, it was nothing but a harmless hangout and I'm sorry for not letting you know, but..can we just move on? Forget this? This is so pointless." 

"Must be pointless enough for you, Hyuck. Not for me. I mean it when i say i need a fucking break or else I'll make shit even worse. I'm heading over to Jeno's, meet you at the campsite." You jerk yourself away from Haechan's vice grip. Giving him one last look with those broken eyes of yours, you head over to your luggage and grab it, before heading out of the door in a quick movement, preventing Haechan from even blurting out the first syllable of your name. 

When he hears the door slam all the way from the living room, he loses it. 

"Goddammit, why did you decide to act up now of all times."

You're actually happy the group is big enough to take two travel vehicles because you didn't bump into Haechan after that heated argument you had back at the apartment. 

You, Jeno, Jaemin, Mark and Jisung went out in one car while Renjun, Chenle, Shotaro Haechan and Sungchan followed close behind in the second vehicle. 

You'd almost completely forgotten about all that took place with the guys constantly cracking out jokes, lame one considering Jeno, Mark and Jisung's dynamic had been put together to make this really chaotic, pointless yet hilarious conversations. 

"No, dude literally. Sung has a point! Waffles literally are just pancakes with abs-Y/n stop giving me that look" Mark tries justifying. 

"Mark, you're making my head hurt please stop." Jeno lets out a sneer from the driver's seat while Jaemin, who's seated beside you, pats your head in pity. "I go through this all day every day, love. You'll get used to it eventually. If you don't, though, we'll plan a strategy to just lock Mark up in a freezer or something." 

"Seems like a plan to me" you shrug at Jaemin, leaning down to rest your head on his shoulder as your neck had started to cramp from the funny positions you'd craned it in to get into a comfortable position. 

Jaemin welcomed you with a gleeful squeak, pulling you closer by snaking his hands between your body and the seat to wrap it around your waist which only made things more comfortable for you. 

A tiny nap before the actual escapade wouldn't hurt now, would it? 

"Guys! Chenle's on facetime! Say hiiii!" you hear Jisung say in a sing-song voice, but you did nothing to get up to greet the lad, instead snuggling closer to Jaemin when you felt his other hand come up to your head and thread through the tresses. You let out a sound of appreciation which made Jaemin's chest rumble from the chuckle he'd let out. 

"Oh man! I wanted to show Y/n this cool beetle we caught." 

Haechan, already sour from the incidents prior, had been uncharacteristically quiet. When inquired about he'd say "Ah, i didn't sleep at all last night so I'm feeling a little blue". The boys had granted him permission to just recharge and sit back while they made the road trip spicy. 

Obviously, Chenle wanted to show off to his best friend that he could still be the life of the party with or without Jisung's presence and so decided to facetime the guy. 

Curiosity strikes Haechan at the sound of the younger's idea and sits up straight in order to look into Chenle's screen while still making sure he is out of the frame. 

"Y/n's asleep?" Renjun inquires from Chenle's other side, peeping into whatever's being displayed on the screen. The image of you all cuddled up with Jaemin filling it up. 

Haechan could do nothing about it, other than fume silently in anger while the guys coo at your cuteness, "You need to wake her up soon though, we're 5 minutes away from the cabins," Sungchan says from the driver's seat. 

"I'll just carry her out, I'm pretty sure I'll be sent to the depths of tartarus if I woke up this sleeping beauty. " Jaemin hushes with a lopsided grin and Haechan well, seemed like he'd rupture any moment. 

Hypocrite. 

You'd woken up minutes before reaching the destination due to the rocky ride. 

Jeno had decided to derail at the last minute, exclaiming he'd found a shortcut to the place when in all reality, it was a longer route. You weren't complaining though.

The view change definitely helped you calm your wits, almost as though you never were in a bad mood so you'd decided to leave that behind for your city life and just decided to go with the flow of nature from this point forward.

And you'd only silently hoped your boyfriend would've been doing the same.

"You okay, princess?" you snap your head to look at Jaemin who'd broken you out of your trance. "Yeah, why'd you ask?" you reply, smiling at him. 

"You seemed a little lost..?" he states almost as though questioning himself whether they're the right choice of words. "Oh? I guess I'm just in awe of the view, it's ethereal" you look out of the window once again, Jaemin following you suit. 

"You're in awe of the view when you get to see yourself in the mirror everyday? Wow." Jaemin smiles at you with a teasing glint evident on his face. 

"Yo if Haechan would've been here you'd be spitting out your death rights" Jeno voices out with a chuckle. "Nah, Y/n would stop him from murdering me, I've got free will" Jaemin replies, shooting you a wink. 

You smile at their tactics with a shake of your head and just hope to spread this same joy to Haechan, and apologize, and get it over with, just like how he'd wanted. You're thankful to have this time off from him, the boys helping you unknowing of your fight with Haechan.

You're going to make this right. 

Sungchan and team reached first a few minutes away from the campsite near to where the cabins were located, oblivious to the fact that you guys had derailed. 

Haechan hadn't spoken a word ever since he saw his girlfriend all over his best friend, much to Renjun's dismay. 

Renjun didn't bother inquiring though, no matter how enthralled he'd been, he kept quiet to himself because from the looks of Haechan's face, there is a high chance that his neck would be snapped if he tried talking to the lad. 

Haechan still didn't utter a word even while helping unload the trunk as he'd not want to come of as a useless ticking time bomb so he decided to power work and lend an extra hand, also being the first to stomp his way towards the cabin he'd be sharing with you, mindful to not lock it incase you'd arrive. 

Oh now you owe him an apology, alright. 

You'd reached not that long after the first group of guys. 

You were a little disappointed that the pretty motions of the trees flying past you had come to a static. But nevertheless, content at the sight of nature all surrounding you.

You make your way towards the cabin you'd be residing in after the guys constantly insisting that they do not need your help and that you deserve to rest up. 

You open the door without thinking much, a smile of bliss apparent on your face only for it to morph into a petrified look at the sudden moment of you being pulled into the room and the door aggressively being slammed shut. "Ah!" 

"Did you have fun?" You open your eyes to see Haechan, a little too intimidating for you to keep an eye contact, talk to you with a smirk on his face. 

"I asked did you have fun, doll face, i need my answer to that" his other hand comes up to your cheeks, caressing it just like how he'd done this morning, this time, with much more softness that before which had a sick feeling boil up at the pit of your stomach. 

"H-huh?" you question, genuinely confused on what he's talking about. 

"Was it fun having full attention of your boyfriend's best friend? Was it fun throwing yourself completely at him? Hm?" His gaze darkens, scaring you a little, "Haechan what are you on-"

"Save it. Strip." 

Haechan orders while walking away towards the bed after making sure he'd shut the bolt tight to prevent anyone from barging in. 

He seats himself down dead in the middle of the bed, waiting for you to comply with a raise of his eyebrows. "Hyuck, let's talk this-" 

"Talking things out with you had never been an option, love. I need to show you who's in charge here all over again. So, be quick, strip before i do it myself." His voice carried a threatening tone to it, which stopped from rebelling against his words, knowing you'd just be digging your own grave then. 

You slowly reach out to the buttons of your shirt with trembling hands, unbuttoning them one after the other at your own pace which seemed to slow for Haechan. "Faster. Leave the skirt on." 

Haechan puts out his next order, leaning forward to rest his elbows over his knees, his eyes following the moment of your hands which were now tugging your shirt away from your body. 

"Oh, Y/n..You were all over Jaemin, your body flush against his when you'd worn no fucking bra inside the shirt?" oh no.. 

"Drop to your knees."

"Hyuck, listen to-"

"I'd not talk if i were you, darling. Do not fucking speak unless spoken to or you're just going to make things worse for yourself. Drop." He said with a lot more sternness and venom, the tone in his voice almost making it seem like he's disgusted with your entire being. 

Oh how the tables have turned. 

You do as he said and drop to your knees, not caring of the fact of how your knees scrape against the wooden tiles. "Crawl up to me." 

You don't fight it, your entire being wanting to shrink and just disintegrate into dust from all the embarrassment you're being put through which, weirdly, only added to the growing arousal between your legs. 

You slowly crawl up to him, not too slowly, being mindful not to piss him off any further. The uncomfortable feeling on your knees and the stickiness gathering on your panties were given a blind eye as your main goal remained to not tick Haechan off anymore. 

"Good girl.. So you can follow orders when asked to, huh?" you somehow managed to make out that he wasn't really posing the question at you so you decide to stay silent, eyes on his shoes and your hands on your knees. 

If you were to describe the look Haechan carried the exact moment with you kneeled down in front of him, you'd describe it as one that the hunter carries while his prey falls right into his trap. You felt small. 

"Look at me, doll" He leans forward further as you silently look up at him. 

A fond smile makes its way onto Haechan's features at your subtle innocence. He reaches out to grip your chin in a firm yet soft grip, tilting your head further up. "How pretty.." 

His palm engulfs your entire face as you lean into his warmth, forgetting ever so slightly about the grave trouble you'd gotten yourself in. His fingers trail up the side of your face, the thumb soothing your lips. A firm press following right after in a silent order, you comply. 

You open your mouth a little wide for Haechan to slip his digits in, which he does. You raise your gaze higher to look at him before wrapping your lips around his fingers, sucking it as though your life depends on it. 

"It's a pity I have to ruin you so that you'd know just how bad you've been." he growls, pulling you up with a sharp tug of your chin as you lift yourself off the ground and onto Haechan's lap while he crashes his lips on yours. 

You let out a whimper as the rushed kiss you two share, your hands finding home at Haechan's shoulder to keep yourself anchored, only for him to grab both your hands and lock it behind your back with his own. 

The kiss is messy, very sloppy, rushed and anyone crazy enough to be watching it would know who has the upper hand as Haechan lowers his lips to your jaw, scattering red-purple marks all over. His free hand goes up to your hair, brushing the strands out of the way in a very contrasting manber from his roughness at your jaw. 

He makes a makeshift ponytail out of your hair and yanks it back hard enough to expose more of the neck as you let out a sound of pain. "Haechan, slow down p-.. Please" you whine out 

"Don't fucking tell me what to do, love." He bites particularly hard at your soft spot, making you bite down hard on your lips to stop any extremely loud, pornographic sounds from escaping your throat.

Haechan wasn't having any of that bullshit. 

With a swift move, you're under him. Your panties are long thrown somewhere behind your boyfriend, your skirt still in place but lifted up to your torso to expose your glistening flower to him. 

You felt helpless. 

All exposed to him, all worked up from just a short make out, eyes blown out from pleasure and neediness. You must've looked pathetic in his eyes.

"Please.." you beg for nothing in particular, just getting the sudden feeling to be Haechan's good little girl else he would snatch away all your source of pleasure with just a blink of his eyes. 

"Hm? Please what, darling?" His fingers graze over your wetness, letting out a smug 'tsk' as your essence spread all over his fingers. 

"Pl-please!" you choke out and the feeling of his warmness touching you where you needed him the most, slightly embarrassed at how sensitive you'd gotten just from a little manhandling from his end. 

"Go further than just a mere please, Y/n. Or is it that you're already too far gone to say shit that's coherent?" he thumbs at your clit with all the wetness that's collected. 

"Good. I like you just like that. Dumb, needy and an obedient little girl. Will you be nice throughout your punishment and not make it harder for the both of us, love?" 

You moan out in reply when you feel a slender finger of his slip into your hole with ease. "Yes! Yes, I'll be good, just please.." you whine in submission. "Please don't stop.." you become breathless pretty quick. 

"Oh I won't, doll face. Don't worry about that." Haechan states as though he has something planned for you, which is part true. But he also wouldn't dare stop as he watches your expressions morph into a state of bliss. 

"Haechan..!" you jolt when he inserts a second finger, picking up speed, which pulled you dangerously close to your first high. 

"Oh my? Cumming already? I thought you were better than this, babe" He talks as though he isn't just drilling his digits into your wetness. 

The adding of pressure on your clit was the last string to topple you over to the edge, your hips lifting high off the bed, eyes screwed shut as you indulge yourself in pleasure, only for you to choke out a cry when you feel Haechan throw a hand over your hip, pinning to the bed, his head now between your legs, lapping out the last bits of your orgasm. 

"Hyuck, wait! I'm sensitive!" you reach out to place your hand on top of his head, not sure whether you want to pull him closed or tug his head away. 

You feel his lips form a smirk, his free hands moving down to insert digits in you while his tongue worked magic on your clit.

"That's the point, darling. Now stay put or I'll make sure you come more than just twice."

You pull yourself out of your dilemma and tug him closer, hearing him mumble out a "good girl" against your clit. 

There's something so sinful about the squelching sounds of his fingers driving in and out of you, the way he laps at your clit, making sure to slurp all your essence up which had the knot tighten at the bottom of your stomach once again. "Close again?"

"Uh-huh!" you let out in a screechy voice that would've had you cringing if you weren't so far gone into pleasure. You hear a growl from below you, the last anchor being left off the hook. 

"Good, let go for me." 

And you oblige. You twitch in overstimulation as Haechan slurps up your essence all over again, leaving you drained, tired and twitching beneath him. 

Haechan pulls himself up once he's satisfied enough, his chin glistening, a lopsided grin present on his face, "Taste yourself for me" He mutters quickly before clashing his lips onto yours while he keeps himself hoisted with one hand, the other working on removing his jeans. 

He shifts your position again after quickly making a move of discarding his shirt across the room, leaving him to be as bare as you.

Haechan pulls you up, making you sit up as he watches you basically drool over his shaft, his smirk only growing wider with pride. "Hungry for more, babe?"

You nod enthusiastically, not trusting your voice. And you thank the lords as Haechan didn't force you to speak up this time, "Then you have to work for it, darling. Go ahead, ride me." 

You waste no time and get to work, shocking both yourself and the lad at your tireless nature as you pump him a few times before aligning his member along your entrance, you don't plan on going slow as you just sit yourself down, engulfing him completely inside you, earning a satisfied groan from Haechan. 

Haechan brings his hands to rest them upon your hips as you slowly lift yourself up once again, reaching out to hold his shoulder for support before easing down, you feel his thighs twitch underneath you. 

"Oh love, you're amazing" Haechan praises you as you bounce to keep the motion going, picking up the pace to make him feel better as his fingers dig into your sides. 

"Hyuck.."

You soon grow tired though, your legs giving out from tiredness, causing you to slow down, "Hyuck, i can't.. I-i'm tired" you almost let out a sob. 

"Aw my, my poor baby.. Too bad, i can't help you here, love. Work for the pleasure, work to please me, come on, don't disappoint me all over again, doll" 

You let out an actual cry out of desperation, using the last bit of strength you could muster up to keep the action going, gasps and breaths of exasperation leaving you with each bounce. 

The look of complete submission, wanting to please him and determination made Haechan growl as he feels you clenching around his members, making him unintentionally buck his hips up to meet your hips in the middle, earning a yelp from you. 

"Haechan, I'm close..pl-please" you cry out louder with each of yours and Haechan's hip moment, the melanin of his skin covered in sweat, glistening in the dimly lit cabin, his face morphed into that of utter bliss and the sinful sounds he let out makes you grow frantic.

"I can feel it, darling. I can feel it. I'm close too. Let go for me" 

You cum with a loud cry, as your actions seize up completely to help you calm down. You jump when you feel his palm come in contact with your ass, 

"I asked you to cum, baby. Not to stop. Keep moving just a little bit more, I'm almost there" He growls at you, both his hands finding refuge on your ass. 

"I can't, I really can't! Hyuck,-" You cry out real cries, fresh tears falling out, 

"Move." Haechan commands paying no attention to your pleas. After all, this is your punishment. 

You bounce up slowly again, your entire lower body protesting in pain, as you sob, working up the heat beneath once again. 

The sight Haechan got pulled him ridiculously close to his high, your hair disheveled, tears running down your face, sobs leaving your throat as you try your hardest to keep moving. 

Haechan wanted you to come one last time.. 

So the moment he felt himself twitch inside you, he removes one hand from your bottom and brings it to rub your clit in rapid motions. You're sensitivity getting the best of you as you drop down on him completely with a cry loud enough you're pretty sure the others heard you. 

You both end together, with a loud growl escaping Haechans throat as he lazily thrusts up to ride his high out, immediately stomping when he hears your cries and how you've shut your legs tightly close

"It's okay, it's over, baby, you did so well.." he's quick to pull you into a warming embrace, cooing at you, wiping your tears away. 

He doesn't speak up for a while, humming soft tunes to calm you down. 

"Hyuck.. Listen I'm sorry-" you start with a hoarse voice.

"Shh, no. You don't have to apologize for anything, just rest up, hm? I'll wake you up before dinner"

[readerinsertfanfiction]

The Stages of... - Nobunaga

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku 

Character: Nobunaga Oda 

Prompt: Happy birthday @mineko811​ I hope you have a great day and that you are in overall in a better place! Enjoy some stages of Nobunaga’s relationship progression in a modern AU! 

Warnings: Mentions of fire, smoke, crowds and food. 

Word count: +1K

Masterlist

🖤 (black heart): First Impression

“Who are you?” The question came bleary, eyes blurry from daze as you wondered how anyone could sleep through this ruckus and smoke. The music had stopped, the people were crowding if not in panic, and if it wasn’t for you doing one last glance over the bar no one would have noticed the man in black slumped in a corner.

“No time,” you told him, pulling him up by the arm as you dragged him towards what you hoped was the emergency exit. “Just hold on,” you encouraged the stranger as you stumbled, praying that this one good deed wouldn’t go punished.

Nobunaga thought you were foolishly heroic for pulling him out of the bar like that. With the fire blazing as the business went down. But he wouldn’t be able to tell you so for a little while.

💜 (purple heart): Introduction

“Nobunaga Oda,” he introduced himself with confidence a few months after. Your blank stare told him that you had no idea who he was, or what he wanted from you, earning another side smile.

“You saved me in that bar,” he told you, and the recognition that lit up afterwards relieved him. It had taken some string pulling to track you down from his hospital bed, Hideyoshi refusing to let him go until all of the scans were clear and his injuries had healed. Luckily there was Mitsuhide and his questionable sources, which eventually led him to you. You who had already forgotten his face and had moved on with your life.

“I want you at my side,” Nobunaga claimed, and your face fell as your mouth dropped, taken aback at the man who had taken an interest in you.

💙 (blue heart): Understanding

“Why are you chasing me?” you had asked him one day and Nobunaga had shrugged at the question, acting casually about it. It had been something so integral to his life that the man had nearly forgotten how uncommon it was for anyone else.

“I felt that I can trust you,” was his answer, and your eyes narrow at the man still dressed in black, a little confused and not entirely sure what to make of it. You had met Hideyoshi, you even met Mitsuhide. If he didn’t trust them, who did he trust?

It dawned upon you that, even in the modern world, the proverbial sword in the back was just as common as the fact that war had moved itself from the field to the mind.

💚 (green heart): Friendship

“Tickets?” Nobunaga smiled impishly while leaning over your figure, “is this a date?” he tried to tease.

To this you let go of a sigh, eyes rolling as you pushed him back. “No, I thought it would be nice to go with a friend,” came your response. It earned you another look from the man, the same type of confusion he had felt the first time he met you, back in the bar.

“Friends?” he had repeated after you, as if the word was new to him and the way his expression softened up at the words stilled you for a moment.

How a man of his range and position could be so clueless about the smaller things in life was beyond you. Was this the result of his environment, where it was encouraged to work until the late hours and even to death? Or had he simply never allowed himself the chance to indulge in life?

“You are my friend, Nobunaga,” you had determined, which earned you another impish smile, but this time it was more genuine.

💛 (yellow heart): Crush

He knew what your name was, which didn’t make him automatically a friend. He knew where you lived, but that didn’t make you more than a person to him. Nobunaga had employed his network in various ways to find out who you were, but none of the information delved from there told him who you were, as a friend, as someone he could potentially consider wanting to be more than friends with.

You had your insecurities, the bouts of heroism just being rare examples in which your fears were discarded by your own senses. And though Nobunaga hadn’t experienced much of the world you came from, nor did you know much about his world. But he was willing to learn about it if it meant that it could help you.

“You carry the world too heavily on your shoulders,” Nobunaga told you when your guard slipped and the man realised how much he hated to see you upset, how much he wished to see you smile instead.

“Not all faults need to be sought within yourself,” he continued when he didn’t know what to say anymore and thought how great it must be if he could draw you into his arms and comfort you with a hug.

🧡 (orange heart): Confession

“Look, bubbles!” you exclaimed, and your finger popped the gas filled bubble that floated about in the air, releasing the smoke trapped within. The sweet scent of the soap added to the dry ice made the whole experience of the fair even more surreal as Nobunaga watched you within the crowd, tiptoeing just that bit to reach for another bubble.

“What do you want to get next?” you questioned, still distracted by the boo bubbles surrounding you, but arm already pointing into the direction of yet another food stand up ahead. You had made your choice already, just as you had dictated the beat of this visit in overall, but Nobunaga was of the mind to change that.

Catching your arm with his hand the man felt like the two of you were alone within the massive crowd passing by, the majority not caring for the couple staring deeply into each other's eyes as he sought you out, the stern face blooming into another mischievous laugh.

“Your heart.” Was his quip response and he could feel you warming in his hands as he pressed another hand against your back to keep you upright.

❤️ (red heart): Lover

“I love you.” Nobunaga was the first to take the three words into his mouth, stilling you as you stared at him, still a little unsure and mostly surprised to find what he felt for you.

Hands intertwined the man had taken you out to dinner, picking a trendy restaurant for casual dining rather than the high-end places he tended to go to for his business meetings. Somewhere with food meant to fill the stomach and meant to leave you satisfied, rather than to be conversed over.

Now, in the cool of the evening that August night Nobunaga had led you to the balcony, his usual implike expression was replaced by something warm and filled with adoration and love as he showed you the sight up ahead. But you knew this was just the start of everything as the man counted down the second towards the new dawn, drawing you in for a kiss.

“Happy birthday,” came his wish, and a promise for the day was only just starting.