#haven’t decided where conquest’s marking is yet

[xxrainshadowsxx]

Interpersonal Chapter 9

Jealousy, confessions, and Onceler's an idiot who puts his entire foot in his mouth. Also some more second hand embarrassment, but hopefully the ending makes up for that.

Monday was a special form of hell. You were waiting on pins and needles for the inevitable moment he came into your office. He hadn’t been in this morning, he’d been in a meeting that had been scheduled for weeks now so you knew it would be safe for you to slip into your office, but you had no idea when the meeting was supposed to end. He could be coming up at any second.

You knew you had to talk to him. This wasn’t something you could shove into your convenient “Let’s pretend this never happened” box. You should’ve talked about it that morning, but you’d panicked, hit your Emergency Button, and now the damage was done as far as that was concerned.

Your other problem was that you knew you should probably sort out what you were feeling before you said anything, but you had never been so confused in your life when it came to that. On one hand, you liked him enough to want to see where a relationship with him could go. But on the other hand, if it ended badly, he was powerful and rich enough to survive the hit to his reputation. You were not.

And you were in utter turmoil over it. You’d spent the rest of the weekend locked up in your room with a bottle of wine watching Titanic, Pride and Prejudice, and any other romance movie (because apparently you loved to torture yourself) while you agonized over what you were going to do.

You’d already outlined both the worst case scenario, and what would probably be the smart thing to do, but you didn’t much care for either option. Realistically, you knew you should look for a new job, quietly resign, and never see him again. That would be the responsible thing to do.

You hated that idea. Each time you thought about it, every cell in your body recoiled in disgust, screaming at you to not go through with it. It scared you a bit that you had such a visceral reaction at even the thought of cutting him out of your life, but that’s where you were. Quitting, at least for now, wasn’t an option that you could emotionally handle.

So that left you with only two choices: Decide this was a one-time thing and force self-control around him, or actually give this a try. Did he even want to give this a shot or were you just a conquest to him?

The door of your office crashes open, causing you to blanche. You can’t do this yet, you’re not ready, you haven’t made up your mind yet, oh God, oh God, oh God…

But there he is, in his usual green suit, those blue eyes that you knew so well immediately seeking you out and making a beeline for you.

“How’s your dad?” he asks as he takes a seat across from your desk.

Your dad? Oh right, that was the excuse you’d given him over the weekend. “Um, he’s okay,” you murmur, gathering some papers together to avoid having to look at him. “Aurora had to take him to the hospital Saturday morning, he had a fall, but it looks as though he’s going to pull through just fine.”

“Oh good. Glad he’s okay,” Mr. Onceler says before giving you that same smile that caused this whole mess in the first place. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat, but don’t allow yourself to do anything rash, like launch yourself across the desk and kiss him. “You’re wearing a thneed today,” he notes, sounding pleased.

Why was he focusing on that of all things? You had to wear one. It was too warm out to wear a normal scarf without getting weird looks; at least the thneed made sense. Glancing around to make sure you were well and truly alone, you quirk an eyebrow at him and pull the fabric to the side, exposing the long line of marks he’d made along your neck.

“Oh yeah,” he snickers as he takes in the sight of your thoroughly used neck. “I forgot I did that.”

He what?!

Your anger flares up as you glare at him, fixing the thneed to hide the marks on your neck once more. He seems to take no note of what he did wrong, though his jovial expression does turn into a confused one as you continue to pierce him with your icy stare.

“You forgot?” you finally say, your tone low and dangerous. “Well, I see how little that actually meant to you then.”

Now he’s really confused, and backpedaling fast. “Wait, that’s not what I–”

“Get out!” you snap.

“But–”

“I said get out!” He finally listens this time, but not before giving you that same hurt expression that he’d worn when you’d left his house without kissing him goodbye. You’d felt guilty about that at the time. Now you were glad you hadn’t.

You hope he was just being an idiot and didn’t realize the implication of his words. Because the worst case scenario, of this whole debacle, was that he did just see you as a conquest, a check off his to-do list, to be discarded after use. That’s exactly what his words had made you feel like, intentional or not.

God, you hope that’s not what he meant. But you knew your anger was going to make you do or say something you’d regret. You needed to be alone to calm down and to think… and you simply couldn’t do that with him around.

The next week passed by in a blur. You were so determined to avoid him at work that you were intentionally staying as busy as was physically possible. You’d even taken to going around to other departments and taking care of their busy work in order to stay distracted. You were definitely getting weird looks, but so far no one had demanded an explanation for your odd behavior. 

Of course, you still had to see Mr. Onceler; that was unavoidable. But you kept your interactions brief, to-the-point, and strictly work related. You were never able to meet his eyes, and he always tried to call you back whenever you left the room, but you remained steadfast. You knew all of your resolve would crumble if you allowed even a single moment of vulnerability around him, so you tolerated none.

Still, thanks to the hectic work week you’d imposed upon yourself, you were thankful when the weekend hit and you could just relax. You slept in later than normal and were very much looking forward to a day without Mr. Onceler when the doorbell rang.

You poke your head out of your bedroom, just as Henry, your roommate, comes out of the washroom, towel drying his hair. “Were you expecting anyone?” he asks. You shake your head. “Weird,” he comments as he heads down the short flight of stairs to answer the door. “Hello?”

“Who the fuck are you and why are you here?” You freeze, now halfway down the stairs yourself and just out of sight of the front door. No way. There’s no way he showed up here…

“Um… I live here?” Henry says, clearly confused.

“You’re going to tell me I have the wrong address.” Any shred of hope you had evaporates. That’s clearly Mr. Onceler. And of fucking course he had to show up when your very male roommate had just gotten out of the shower, was not wearing a shirt, and was dripping wet. 

Mr. Onceler grabs Henry’s wrist and slaps something into his palm. “Is this her address or not?” he hisses. Henry, now looking quite alarmed, glances down at a slip of paper in his hand. “Yes, she lives here,” he answers. You resist the urge to face-palm.

“Then I repeat. Why the fuck are you here?” Mr. Onceler growls. As if this could get any worse, he apparently has a vicious jealous streak as well. Why wouldn’t he?

“I live here,” Henry repeats, sounding more and more bewildered. “She’s my roommate.”

“Why?”

“Why do you need to know?” Please just answer his questions, you silently beg. Don’t put him in a worse mood than he already is.

“Because if I feel like it, I could own this place within a week and get you evicted.” Christ, he is on some shit today. 

“Relax, man. We both just wanted cheaper rent.” You were going to owe Henry several bottles of rum when this was over. Several bottles. This had nothing to do with him, and yet he was feeling the brunt of your bosses jealousy for no crime other than existing.

“Fine. I’ll deal with that later. Where is she? I want to talk to her.” You immediately start shaking your head frantically and throat-slash yourself multiple times.

“Uh, she’s not here. I think she left a few minutes ago,” Henry says convincingly enough, but he gives you away when he turns his entire head towards you before answering.

“Liar.” Nope. You knew Mr. Onceler wasn’t going to buy it. “Well, if she won’t come to the door, time for Plan B.” You assume he walks away, because Henry shuts the door and instantly rounds on you.

“Yeah, uh, what the fuck?” he asks in an accusatory tone. You don’t even have a response, but it doesn’t matter since he doesn’t give you time to give one anyway. “Look, that’s your boss, right? And I’m assuming he’s the reason you showed up at noon last Saturday after not coming home the night before?” You shift guiltily, but again, he’s not looking for a verbal answer. “I don’t care, you do you, it’s not my business. But he’s making it my problem, and I don’t know why. Fix it. I don’t care how, just fix it.”

You sigh heavily. “I know, I will. I’m sorry, I had no idea he’d come here or that he’d get this jealous,” you apologize with a wince. Whatever words you had planned to say next are lost on the tip of your tongue as you hear the sounds of a distant guitar. You look around in confusion trying to find the source, but come up blank.

“That would be him,” Henry answers your unspoken question. “He had one strapped to his back.”

Fuck.

You dash back up to your bedroom. There’s a window that offers a perfect view of the street below. The downside is that he’ll be able to see you, but you figure that’s a moot point now. He’s already figured out you’re home.

Might as well just rip off the band-aid. You push the blinds up and throw open the window. There’s no screen, so you rest your face in your hands, elbows on the sill.

Sure enough, there he is, guitar in hand. He’s surprisingly normal looking today, wearing gray pants and vest of the same color, with a white button-up shirt underneath. For him, it’s very understated. He’s also right in front of you.

“I knew you were there,” he smirks, completely at odds from how aggressive he was with Henry. But you’re barely paying attention to what he’s saying. You’re being held captive by the horrid sounds coming from his guitar.

It’s not that he’s a bad player; from what you can tell he’s actually quite good. But he’s chosen to play a song that had haunted every pop station, every awkward middle school dance when you were in your early teens. You thought you were free of this enemy, but it seems it has returned to strike one final time.

“For the love of God, please tell me you’re not playing Beautiful Soul,” you groan, cursing Jesse McCartney to the seventh circle of hell where he belongs for inflicting this unforgivable sin upon the world.

“Yeah, I am,” he admits without a trace of embarrassment. “And I’m going to start singing it in a second unless you get your cute butt down here.” Goddammit. You can tell he’s one hundred percent serious. And your hatred of Jesse McCartney outweighs your need to keep avoiding that inevitable talk with him. You owed it to him, you owed it to yourself, and now you owed it to Henry as well.

“Gimme a minute,” you promise. You make your way towards the front door, pausing just long enough by the mirror on the back of your door to ensure your hair doesn’t look absolutely horrendous.

He’s waiting for you outside, and he’d adjusted his guitar so it’s now across his back instead of in his hands. “Look, I know you’re probably not happy to see me, but I wanted the chance to explain myself,” he says in a rush, like he’s afraid you’ll start shouting at him again. You suppose you can’t blame him for that.

“Go ahead,” you say, keeping your tone neutral.

He takes a hesitant step towards you. "I never, not once, intended to come off like I devalued that night in any way," he murmurs, more earnest than you've ever heard him before; it's impossible to doubt the sincerity lacing every word. "That was–and I mean this–one of the best moments of my life. And I don't just mean because of the sex. The sex was great, don't get me wrong, but the emotional connection I feel with you… I've never felt like this about anyone before." He's right in front of you now, just a heartbeat away, and you're trembling like mad. Very slowly, still testing the waters, he cups your face between his hands. "I've completely fallen for you," he whispers. "My heart belongs to you. And I want to be with you, no matter what the cost is. That is… if you'll have me."

You step back as you process his words, and quickly default to sitting on your front porch steps when you find your legs can't support you any longer. You hug your knees up to your chest, still trying to comprehend what just happened.

He lets you have your moment, but looks more nervous than you've ever seen him before. You finally look up at him. "It's a bad idea. You know it's a bad idea," you whimper. The words taste like vinegar coming out of your mouth, but they need to be said.

"Why?" he presses, and you can hear the desperation even in just that one word.

"People are going to talk," you attempt to explain, starting to get frantic now. "And they're going to come after me. It's going to be a goddamn witch hunt."

He sits down next to you, taking your hands in both of his in an attempt to calm you down. "I won't ever let that happen. I'll protect you," he vows.

You're shaking your head before he can finish his sentence. "You don't get it. I'm talking about afterwards. If we try this, and it ends badly, I'm going to be the one who falls." You stand up now, pacing back and forth, too worked up to sit still. "If it works out, I'm a gold-digger. If it doesn't, I never get another job in my life. Either way I face the lynch mob. Any way you look at it, I lose, because if we do nothing, I lose you!"

You freeze for the umpteenth time that day as the enormity of what you said hits you. Until now, you'd been unable to figure out what you'd wanted to do, let alone how you felt. But now that you've verbalized your fears, though the future is still murky, one feeling now shines crystal clear to you.

You spin back around to face him. He's gotten to his feet again, seemingly about to walk to you, but stops short. "I can't handle it. I can't lose you," you finally admit.

Both of you close the rest of the distance as if acting with one mind, lips crashing together with a fervent need. And nothing has ever felt more right, more like home, than his lips on yours, his arms encircling your body, your hands tangled in his hair.

You reluctantly attempt to move back when you become aware of where you are. "We're in public. People could see," you remind him, speaking against his lips.

"Let them talk," he decides before returning his full attention to kissing you again. You oblige him for a few moments before gently pushing on his chest.

"We do still have some things to talk about," you admonish him gently. His mouth twists; he's clearly disappointed, but acquiesces and goes back to sit on the steps with you, though he keeps a firm arm around your waist. You don't mind that. You find it comforting.

"Look, I'm obviously not planning on an ending, but I'm not expecting you to put a ring on it yet either," you start slowly, doing your best to collect your thoughts. "And if this does end badly, you know that I'm going to be the one to suffer."

"You don't know that," he argues. You just sigh.

"Yes I do," you say miserably. "Just watch what they'll say about me when the press finds out we're dating." You don't miss the way his eyes light up at your words. You can't ignore your own butterflies when you say it out loud, but you force yourself to press on. "I know I have the most to lose here. Why do you think I was so desperate to get out of your house after we slept together? I knew I shouldn't have done that."

"That was just as much my fault as it was yours," he points out. "And I hope you don't regret it, because I certainly don't. But I thought you left because of your dad?" You just give him a look. "Oh," he mutters as he puts it together. "Should I be mad about that?" 

"I wouldn't blame you if you were," you shrug helplessly. "But the point is, if this does end badly, it might be nigh impossible for me to get another job. My reputation will be the one that's forever stained."

He twists his body so he's fully facing you, taking your hands again. "I promise you, whatever happens, even if it ends with us on non-speaking terms, I'm going to do everything in my power to protect you and your family from that. You didn't choose to live with your life open to the public. I did. You should not have to suffer for my choice, and I'm going to make damn sure you don't."

Your lower lip trembles and he opens his arms just in time for you to dive headfirst into his chest. The comfort he's given you has been more than you could have ever asked for. Not only have his promises managed to calm your fears, but for him to also think of your family in the middle of all of this… it's no wonder you fell for him.

He continues to hold you quietly, without complaint as you take in all that's happened in the last few minutes; he just rubs his hand up and down your back slowly as you take as much time as you need.

"There's still the issue of my NDA," you mumble as you gather yourself and finally extricate yourself from him, though you do rest your head on his shoulder.

"What about it?" You give him a strange look out of the corner of your eye.

"There's a very specific clause that says I'm not supposed to have any contact with you at all after I don't work for you anymore," you remind him. "And I'm going to have to quit. That's not even a question."

"Oh yeah." He frowns as he mulls over a few options on how to sort it out. "I'll take care of it this weekend. Just make sure you bring your copy to work on Monday, okay?"

"I still have to work on Monday? You can't accept my resignation now?" you tease in an attempt to lighten the mood just a bit.

"No, because as you've pointed out, then I couldn't talk to you. Or kiss you. And I like doing both," he says, kissing the tip of your nose quickly to punctuate his point.

You sit in calm serenity for a couple more moments before he reluctantly gets to his feet. "As much as I'd love to spend all day with you, I really do need to get to work on fixing your NDA," he says regretfully.

"I get it," you tell him, though you're not happy to see him go either.

"Give me your phone real quick? I'll give you my personal number at least," he offers. You hand over the device and he punches in the details. "I'm not great about answering that, but I'll do my best for you," he promises.

He pulls you close and gives you one last, lingering kiss before brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, smiles in that way that makes your heart melt, and heads to a car parked on the street that you hadn't realized was his.

"I'll see you soon," you murmur as you walk with him to his car. He put his guitar in the passenger side, then climbs into his own seat.

"Definitely," he agrees. He rolls down the window and starts the engine, but turns back to you. "By the way… you do taste like cherries." With one last grin, he drives off, leaving you shaking your head on the curb.

Cheeky bastard.

[surveillance-0011]

Misc horseman centric headcanons

Death is the “unofficial leader” of the bunch. He’s the only one who is competent in his current state and he has the most experience and status.

Death was the first to have his role bestowed upon him. Then War, then Conquest and Famine (though idk which of these two joined before the other). Pestilence was recruited after Conquest left.

The ritual of becoming a Harbinger (at least like officially) involves being marked with a distinct symbol relating to whatever their respective concept is. More specifically, it involves branding with a painful fire-based spell. The mark is permanent and will come back with every revival, even if the body part branded is destroyed or otherwise damaged in a way where it wouldn’t logically ever show up again.

It’s slightly different in Pestilence’s case- he has three different symbols, one on the back of his neck and one on each wrist. They were there way before he became a horseman, oddly enough. Only the ones on his wrist were “activated” though.

Conquest actually quit due to a falling out of sorts with the other three, then subsequently became imprisoned due to crimes that he committed.

Death was hoping Pest would just be an honorary member, but he ended up becoming part of the group for good. Nether of the two were pleased.

War’s marking is the symbol of Mars and it’s on his left thigh. Famine’s is balance scale on her right shoulder and Death’s is an hourglass on his left shoulder.

If Death were ever unable to lead the Horsemen when needed, it’s decided they’ll just work together but most of the authority will be shared between Conquest and Famine. Conquest would handle anything related to combat and defense while Famine would handle any social events or whatever

The Horsemen don’t consider themselves to be aligned with demons, but they work with them and are technically on the side of the Beast and Satan, save for Conquest, who hates most demons.

Famine actually “works” as a “merchant” - she barely does any work and when she does try to sell shit she fails miserably. The scar on the back of her head is from an angry customer splitting her head open with a wine bottle she was selling.

War enjoys spicy food. He can handle a good amount of spice and he rarely ever passes up the chance to eat something spicy. He also eats a lot of meat.

Famine on the other hand cannot stomach anything with above mild spice. It’s like the one type of food she won’t eat. She does like cinnamon.

Famine lives for autumn. Death likes winter. War and Conquest prefer warmer weather and their favorite seasons are summer and spring respectively. Pestilence doesn’t care all that much because he will never be comfortable.

Conquest tends to the “Home” area and is one of the few Basement Dwellers to not only be aware of Dogma’s existence, but to meet it face to face. The others know about Dogma but haven’t met it. Conquest assures them all its better that away.

Conquest hates Azazel and Judas. The only reasons he doesn’t hate the other demon children is 1) they aren’t as infuriating to deal with 2) He’s a little scared of Apollyon and 3) he’s technically related to Lilith and would rather not put up with her father’s wrath.

To explain that: Most posthumous bosses are the equivalent to “tainted” versions of the original. They all came through gradually around where isaac’s home is, even before a house was even there. Conquest is War’s variant. Adversary is the Dark One’s counterpart obviously. War is distantly related to Dark One, though he’s more of an in-law ig (War is Samyaza’s son and raised by Samael, DO is one of the og Lilith’s children.) Lilith is Dark One’s bastard daughter that he ignores.

Adversary takes care of her instead, kinda sorta.

But yeah Conquest knows he couldn’t do anything to Lilith without Adversary tearing him a new one so he just. Doesn’t. Also he pities Eve and her too much with how sucky their lives have been so he’s just like “no thanks I’d rather keep what little serotonin I have than throw it away by tormenting you”

They all have a sort of love hate relationship with the Headless Horseman. He’s not awful but he mooches off a lot their fame and power for his own gain. He’s also very unpredictable so they’re put off by him.

They know about the Neo Horsemen! Aaand they fucking hate them so far. Pollution accidentally made an enemy of all of them on day one by thinking they were all friends already and “playfully teasing” them (read: insulting them nonstop) right in front of everybody. Meltdown thinks this hatred is mutual but Pollution still thinks they’re buddies.

War owns and knows how to use a sword. Conquest is an archer. Famine has some sort of mace/flail and/or some sort of dual wielded weapon and Death uses his scythe and dark magic. Pestilence owns a gun or maybe some sort of blunt weapon. Nah the gun is funnier I’m most likely gonna go with that.

The Neo Horsemen also all own weapons but more modern or just varied equivalents. Pollution has one of those fancy knives, maybe some sorta switchblade and uhh idk abt MD or even the others I’ll wait until they’re all released to decide lol

[mxchellesworld]

swim

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings; smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, degradation, light choking, creampies, slight thigh riding

Synopsis; during a night out with your friends you spot a tall man in a dark suit with an even darker look in his eyes

a/n; this is literally just smut with very little plot lmaoo uhh i’ve been struggling in my smut writing/writing in general so here’s this, hope its not completely trash and you enjoy!

fic inspired by swim by chase atlantic, bc god knows i can't write anything original sdhfdh

***

It was 10 o’clock when your girlfriends rounded you up for a night out, hopefully full of sweet drinks and good company. By 11:30 you were happily buzzed and the feelings of warm bodies around you brought a heat to your lower stomach. Maybe tonight you’d go home with someone, wake up the next morning with that delicious sense of soreness between your legs. The only task at hand was finding a companion.

Once the current song ended you walked over to the bar grabbing a water and taking a seat next to your friends.

“How are the prospects lookin tonight y/n/n?” Jessica, the short brunette you’d known for years asked. Being around her had rubbed some of her boldness onto you. Hopefully that could make an appearance tonight.

“No luck so far,” you sighed “but my eyes are wide open.” You brought the straw to your lips, gulping down the cool water as you looked around the dimly lit room.

“Woah check out suit and tie over there. He’s been checking you out for a while,” chimed Erika. While she has happily taken, that didn’t stop her from going out with you guys and pushing you into random laps.

You looked up to see the darkest pair of brown eyes on yours. Maybe it was the lighting but here was something in them. Lust perhaps? His eyes travelled down your frame as you stood up. The tight lilac dress you had on hugging each of your curves perfectly.

"I'm gonna get some air, let me know if you guys wanna head out," you said never letting your eyes drift away from the handsome stranger a few feet away.

Once outside you let your back hit the brick wall. The music from the building could be felt vibrating through the cracks. You looked up seeing the stars barley visible through the city lights.

"Contrary to popular belief you can never see millions of stars, they simply aren't close and bright enough. On a really exceptional night, with no moon and far from any source of lights, a person with very good eyesight may be able to see 2000-2500 stars at any one time."

You turned to see the same man from inside. He was gorgeous, a light stubble grazing his cheeks, long hair falling past his ears. He was a lot taller than you had thought probably taller than 6'0 but all that made you think about was him towering over you.

"Did you make that up off the top of your head? Or do you approach all your conquests with astronomy facts?"

"That depends do you usually let strange men corner you behind bars or am I just special?" he said walking closer to where you stood.

"Touche Mr."

"Doctor actually."

There was a brief pause where you both let out a giggle. The dark eyes from before seemed lighter and you cold almost make out a blush on his cheeks. The lack of alcohol on his breath told you it was from the conversation, though there was nothing to be flushed about yet.

“But seriously a pretty girl walking out to a back alley late at night is just a recipe for disaster,” he finished scanning both ends.

“Well do you plan on hurting me doctor?" you said coyly. You did you best to flutter your lashes looking up at him.

"Is that what you want?" he said letting one of his hands tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. That same hand ended up resting loosely around you neck making you gulp.

"Yes," you breathed out, "please doctor."

He wasted no time in crashing his lips to yours. You moaned into his mouth as he slid his thigh in between your own. His unoccupied hand went down to your hip, slowly guiding the pace of your frantic rutting.

Your lips parted as your head tilted back onto the brick wall. A symphony of whimpers leaving your mouth.

"Look how desperate you are for me. I haven't even done anything and you're already such a mess," he said leaving wet kisses, cooling on your scorching neck.

"Oh fuck doctor," you said clinging onto his arms, "need y'to fuck."

The power he had over you turned your brain to mush. It was sad how quickly he had you melted in the palm of hand without even doing much but kissing. At this point you didn't even care. The only thought swimming in your head was having him inside you.

A pout formed on your lips as his hands dropped from your frame. However it was quickly wiped away as you heard the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling.

"Is this what you needed baby? You need my cock to stretch you out?" he said pulling your hips closer to his.

You looked up at him for permission before you reached forward to pump your hand along his shaft. He lifted your right leg, hooking it over his arm as he pulled the thin material separating the both of you to the side.

Guiding his length to your glistening folds was a sight you'd want engraved in your brain forever. The first intrusion of his fat tip in your tight hole had you mewling a mix of curses and his title.

All you could do was wrap your arms around his neck and hold on for dear life as his thrusts gained speed. The sound of your skin slapping luckily wouldn't have been heard through the door with the loud music playing inside. But anyone who walked by the alley or decided it was time for a breath of air would surly be in for a show.

"Fuck you're such a good little whore for me," he said gruffly against the skin of your shoulder, "letting me fuck you out here where anyone could see."

Your pussy clenched at his words and your moans amplified as he continued to pound into you. The curve of his cock hitting the spot inside of you that had you seeing all the stars in the sky contrary to what he said before.

"More doctor! Please wanna cum," you whined.

He made a noise of disapproval before pushing you back farther into the wall. At this point you and the red bricks were one. You were sure to have crescent marks on how hard he was holding up your thigh.

"Greedy little whore aren't you," he gritted out, "You take whatever I wanna give you."

"Please I need it! Need t'cum please please please," you rushed out bucking your hips to meet each one of his thrusts.

His hold on your hip got tighter as he started drilling into you. You could feel his heavy breathes on your shoulder and the way his cock was throbbing inside you ready to fill you up.

Your mind was dizzy. It felt like you were in a bubble of him, the scent of his cologne trapped in your senses. Your nerves were on fire, any pressure on your neglected bud would be sure to set you off.

It was as if the gods had answered your prayers when he spoke, "I can feel you clenching around me baby. Go ahead and touch yourself for me," he rasped out.

Reaching between yourself you felt the slippery mess where you both connected and started rubbing at your stiff clit. Your fingers sent lighting strikes through your body, breaking the damn that was building in your lower tummy.

"Gonna cum! I'm oh god cumming doctor," you all but yelled out. If people walking around the corner were unaware of the spectacle they sure would be now.

"That's it.. such a good girl."

Your arms around his neck let up as you pulled him in for a sloppy kiss. His lips swallowing the moans you let out as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

"Where do you want-," he tried to speak out but you cut him off.

"Inside," you begged, "Need to feel you cum inside." His thrusts turned frantic as you spoke against his lips. Pleading for hum to fill you to the brim with his seed.

You sighed as you finally felt the warm liquid coat your walls, his thrusts continuing to pump into you.

He pulled out stepping back to watch the creamy mess spill down your center before be swiped it away with his fingers, bringing them up to your awaiting mouth.

Happily you took his fingers in your mouth, moaning around them at the salty taste of your mixed release. You looked up at him keeping your gaze on the sliver of brown around his dilated pupils.

_

Walking back into the bar Jessica and Erika's eyes nearly popped out of their heads as they took in the limp in your walk and your disheveled hair.

"You whore!," Erika screamed out greeting you with pats on the shoulder.

"Shut up," you said looking down feeling the heat rising to your cheeks.

Jessica giggled handing you her compact mirror, "Yeah I bet we're not the only ones who called her that," she finished with a raise of her brow.

Looking back up across the bar you saw the same dark eyes from before staring at you with a smug smile, proud how much of mess he left you in. If the little business card tucked in your bra told you anything, it was that the stunt from outside would be far from the last.

[sweetbunnykook]

Only You (9)

Word Count: 13,197 // [SPOILER IN WARNINGS] angst (mention of double homicide, gore/blood, miscarriage, mistreatment of a corpse, panic attack), smut (period sex, cunnilungus, blowjob, throatpie, body worship, mommy kink), brief fluff, toxic relationship, manipulation

Photographer!Jungkook X Noona!Reader

Summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.  

A/N: If you are still reading this series, I wish you the best of luck. Please leave a review if you can and let me know your thoughts. - 🐰

You were every mother’s blessing – kind, caring, intelligent, obedient. She watched you stumble and fall many times but you manage to catch your footing with a smile. Despite your yearning for independence, your mother kept you in her embrace as all mothers do. In some ways, it would be loving; things like helping you choose the venue for your wedding and holding your hand while you inquire about using chiffon instead of silk for your veil. You were such a wonderful daughter that she didn’t wish for a son even when you decided to carve your own path rather than follow your father’s footsteps into medicine and entrepreneurship.

It’s why your mother sits in the parking lot of your apartment complex, dumbfounded beyond belief, teeth gritted. She looks up at your window to see Jungkook staring back down at her, unable to read him. She holds his steel hard gaze, daring him to look away or pull the curtains close.

He doesn’t take the bait.  

Pulling the shifting gear and rolling out of the parking lot, she peels her eyes away and takes several deep breaths.

There is no way on God’s green Earth that you fell in love with a middle-class photographer. Of all people, of all the men in your circle, affluent men coming from money both new and old, you couldn’t have fallen for a lowly photographer who doesn’t care about you enough to know his place and leave you be. How could Jungkook not know that you aren’t meant to live like this? How could he be so selfish as to hope for marriage when he could barely afford the ring he wants to slip onto your finger?

Your mother throws back her head and cackles. The only reason you were able to study abroad during college, the only reason why you could walk into an upscale neighborhood and look like you belong there, is because she followed the natural way. She never loved your father, not even once, but he was a good husband and an even better financial asset. Not only did she not have to lift a finger after tying the knot, but she also became part of the untouchables.

There’s a sense of power and invincibility that comes with wealth. It comes softly, like a whisper of wind that keeps a dandelion intact; it’s invisible to the eyes but she can feel it when she shakes hands with politicians, celebrities, businessmen and women, important people doing important things.

It took nearly twenty years of work. Getting close to the Kims, making sure you attend the same school as their children, running into Namjoon when you visit their vacation home, and letting his parents witness what a great wife you would be for him – it was all going so well. Puberty treated you well enough too that she didn’t need to consider getting you minor cosmetic procedures when you graduated high school. Sure, you could lose a few more pounds, but you were healthy and fit to give the Kims, and her, the grandchildren who will guarantee a new generation of wealth and prosperity. Gone are the days when she could only dream about creating the perfect family, respected by the social circle and the general public. You, her lifelong project, made it all come true.

Yet, life proves to be cruel once again.

As soon as she set her eyes on Yori she knew she was trouble. She didn’t object when you stayed out later and wore a bit more makeup than what was deemed graceful for a woman of your age. She knew that if she’d raised her voice, you would be compelled to rebel (it didn’t help that you were as stubborn and thick-skinned as your father). However, she wanted to warn you, just a tiny bit, that Yori is the kind of girl whose eyes strayed to find a new target and you were a hair away from standing right in the middle of that mark. She knew, because Yori had the kind of eyes she had as a twenty-year-old woman who climbed that very same social ladder.  

You were such a good daughter, so intelligent and transparent, that she believed you would have the backbone to come into your mother’s arms at the first sign of danger. It looks like you were just as clueless as the rest of the sheep you called your bridesmaids.

A Jeep honks from the next lane as she swerves into the street and bangs on the steering wheel with the heel of her hand, her Cartier bracelets clanking together in unity. The light turns yellow and she stomps on the accelerator, lurching the vehicle forward.

At the end of the day, she knew it was her fault. She could have warned you earlier, planted seeds of doubt in your mind, even pull Namjoon back into your arms if you realized soon enough; but alas, your day was chosen to be one of desolation and misfortune. Her poor daughter, the apple of her eye, the one precious gem of a person who would propel the family into royalty, whisked right away from under her nose.

She shakes her head, tires screaming as she veers into the next semi-busy lane, watching the sun disappear into the horizon as the familiar roads darken.

Letting you mourn on your own terms was the biggest mistake of her life, second to not following her gut feeling and keeping Yori away from you. She knew about this photographer lover of yours who has the face of an angel and seem to follow you like a puppy wherever you go. From a distance, she’d watched you wrap your arms around him and kiss him with such fervor in a public space she felt bile rise for the first time looking at you – her most precious creation acting like a hussy for all to see.

The boy seemed to be in love with you as much as you depended on him. She waited until you would be sick of him like the ones you took to bed after the wedding night (yes, she knew about your shameful conquests). She waited countless nights, praying that you would come to your senses, that you won’t refuse her advances, until months later she sees you living with him and sharing meals and completely forgetting about her. Yes, she had been mainly focused on making sure the investors haven’t pulled out and that you still had a name for yourself after the wedding. It wasn’t an ideal response as a mother because you needed help and she knew you’d throw a hissy fit but you must understand that while you had been taking men to bed, she had been busting her ass saving what’s left of the family pride.

The Kims also attempted to salvage your reputation, but they won’t do so at the cost of Namjoon’s name. The true reality is that parents will only care for their own blood in the end.

It’s why she finds herself confused and drenched with sweat when the car halts in front of the white villa lined with jasmine bushes. There’s a new gate installed, probably to keep away reporters during the first few weeks after the wedding incident hit the papers, and it momentarily angered her that she must now ask an intercom to enter a space that should have been a gift to you from the Kims.

Her hands tighten around the steering wheel with the intent to squeeze something warm and pulsing. She still remembered the day Yori knelt on the floor of your dressing room and she still remembered the strands of hair that squeezed her fingertips as she tore the whore’s flower hair clip off her head. The yelling, the panic, the uproar, the whispers that came from the guests – it was humiliation to the tenth degree.

Wiping the bead of sweat off her temples with the back of her hand, your mother hushes the engine and places the key in her coat. She steps out of the vehicle and marches up to the gate and buzzes in, huffing when her heels wobble on the cobblestone steps.

A few heartbeats later, Yori’s voice pours through her ears and reached into the crevices of her scalp like a dull headache.

“Hello?”

She leans forward. “It’s me.”

There’s a long pause before the gates click open and the stone stairway up to the front door reveals itself with a moist gleam. The garden sprinklers die down just as she steps onto the platform and makes her way up to the front door where Yori is leaning against, one hand on her stomach, the other hand tucking her fringe away from her face. She notes that the knitted silk dress, tied above the swell of her belly, is from the latest Prada collection.

“What a pleasant surprise,” she smiles. “Come in. Welcome to my home. I apologize for the mess…I had a baby shower earlier today and help is gone for the rest of the week.”

Your mother wanted to rip that smug grin off her face but she kept her eyebrows still and her lips soft.

“Excuse my intrusion.”

She walks into the spacious living room, eyes quickly glancing at the stacks of presents on the couch and the empty bottles of sparkling water and champagne sitting on the coffee table. She can recognize, just from the color of the boxes, that the gifts were not cheap. Had you married Namjoon, this would have been your palace.

“I’m in the middle of decorating the nursery. If you don’t mind��” Yori says, not bothering to look back as she makes her way up the stairs. She didn’t have to turn around to see that steam is coming out of your mother’s ears. “Can you help me with unrolling the mat in the hallway? I can’t bend over very well.”

Your mother trails behind in place of answering, watching Yori’s hip swing side to side as she makes her way up the stairs and then turn to leer down at the older woman. It’s a bit laughable, Yori thinks, as your mother pretends not to ogle at the stacks of Tiffany blue boxes tucked beside the living room couch like shoeboxes. Her face flushes when she meets Yori’s eyes once more but she doesn’t comment as she follows the young woman into the hallway just a few feet away from the stairs. Her head turns at the smell of fresh paint to see the nursery on her left, the door left open as if the room expected her arrival.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

Yori fixes her fringe once more. “He needed to attend a conference in Ginza. I’ll tell him you stopped by.”

“There’s no need.” She leers at the stacks of presents next to the crib. More aquamarine boxes, all neatly stacked according to size with the smallest at the top.

The younger woman leans against the tall, heavy vase next to the wall leading into the hallway to the East wing. “If you say so.”

There’s no reason for your mother to be here. It should be you instead, coming back to tie loose ends and perhaps inquire about Namjoon’s injuries if you cared enough. Compared to your mother, you didn’t have much of a backbone when it comes to relationships and it makes it so easy for men to take what they want and go. It’s what made you a bore, what gave Yori the power to pull Namjoon right into her bed and have him calling her name like a prayer.  

“Did you forget basic manners?” Your mother finally snaps, beady eyes darting from side to side to admire the nursery that could have been a snapshot from a furniture magazine. “Not even offering a glass of water?”

Yori only smiles, motioning to the unrolled mat slumped against the wall, adjacent from the staircase.

“I assumed whatever you wanted say would be quick as you came uninvited. You’d probably think the water is poisoned even if I offered any way.”

The older woman glances at the rug – no doubt imported from Dubai with its elegant coloring and silk touch – then walks over to it before tracing her fingers around the rolled edges. She shouldn’t have accepted to do such demeaning housework but given how she pulled into the driveway unannounced and that the woman is heavily pregnant with no help around, it was only fair. She may have left behind her patience with Jungkook but not her manners.  

“Why did you have to pick that day to tell her?”

Yori’s eyebrows raised just slightly before falling back down to its former position. She puts a hand over her stomach and walks towards the giant vase again, rubbing her fingers over the cool lacquered surface. Namjoon’s parents had a thing for porcelain she just couldn’t wrap her head around.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you wait until the marriage ceremony to tell her you were screwing her husband?”

“Husband?” She cocks her head to the side with an incredulous widening of her pupils. “Last time I checked he only had a fianc��e he rarely saw who ran away with some pretty photographer the first chance she got. I’d say that’s far from married.”

Your mother shakes her head. “Answer the question,” she looks down, chin trembling. The world is falling apart, her dreams are nothing but a pebble in quicksand, and you no longer cared. “Please.”

Yori watches, in a way one watches a fly buzzing around a piece of fruit, the older woman bring her hands together in front of her like it has taken all her energy to ask such a question. Maybe for a moment she considers telling the woman the truth. She considers telling her that you broke her heart first, that you had the world succumbing to your every need, that your mother’s greed doesn’t only belong to her but you too because you made Seokjin your lap dog while Namjoon promised you a future. She considers telling her about the night she saw you laying like a swooning damsel in distress as Seokjin – the only man she had to beg for attention – suckle your tits like you were getting paid for it. She considers telling your mother that her daughter is the two-faced whore here, not her. She considers telling her that you touched what belonged to someone else first.

But what difference would it make? What would it change? The baby is still due in a handful of weeks, Namjoon is set to take over the company once he gets his shit together and his nose heals, and you’re perfectly happy with a new and exciting boyfriend of yours. The truth doesn’t set anyone free, it just makes sure the shackles aren’t too tight.

Yori turns her moist eyes away towards the living room downstairs. She walks over to the railing, resting her wrist on the copper before she stares down at the half-eaten cake on the coffee table with utmost disgust, as if she can still smell the overly sweet frosting with too much blue and pink dye. Catching her voice, she brings the smile back onto her face.

“I picked that day,” she turns her head, just slightly to catch your mother’s expression. “Just because I wanted to watch her look as pathetic as you do now.”

Your mother’s lips part, hands falling to her sides.

“It just happened. That’s all there is to it.”

“That’s…all?”

Yori chuckles, her empty gaze falling back down to the cake. “That’s all.”

Years of planning, years of giving you the best education the country has to offer, years of making sure you never have to suffer as she had, years of shaking hands and kissing the ground the Kims walk on, only for this girl without new or old money to come and…

Before your mother can think, she lunges forward and grabs Yori by the ends of her hair, twisting the locks around her wrist as the younger woman gasps and shrieks. Her swollen stomach hits your mother’s side as she screeches and uses both hands to grab at her taught hair, pulling away to place as much distance she can. The heel of her ankle catches the edge of the first step and she watches the older woman’s eyes widen as she slams, back first, into the steps and then bounce off the next step as her jaw and skull slams into the copper pipe railing. Yori’s stomach hits the corners of the last several steps before the swell of her belly squeezes inwards, the final gurgling scream ripping out of her throat as her vision turns black and the house falls in silence.

It all happened so fast. Your mother watches with her hands over her ears, chest pounding and bracelets clattering as her limbs turn cold and her knees buckle.  

Her eyes widen, more and more, as the pool of blood around Yori’s head expands until there lays maroon halo around her crown. She’s lying flat on her stomach and it takes another moment for the trembling woman to realize that, in the silence save for her own labored breathing, the bump is no longer there.

“Oh my god…”

Curling over to the side, your mother’s jaw falls open and the remnants of her early lunch spills over one of Yori’s shoes ledged between the railing and the first step. She empties her stomach until there is nothing left, her knuckles white as she grips the railing for support. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she descends down the staircase, back pressed against the wall and eyes darting from the body to the tinted windows with burgundy curtains tied to the side. When she reaches the body, she trips over Yori’s limp feet as she quickly dashes to the living room to draw the curtains close, her neck craning from side to side as she finds any opening where an imaginary eye might witness the ultimate sin. It was only when she finds herself in the kitchen, washing her hands that she realized she had, in fact, stolen two lives.

Yori, and the baby who never had the chance to see daylight.

…

You’re sitting in a bathroom stall, turning over the small flash drive between your fingers when you hear the clattering of heels against polished tile and the sound of handbags slumping on the counter. One of the women walks into the stall next to yours, undoing the tampon wrapper as if she were scouring for the winning lottery number written on the string.

“Did you see Jin with her again?” The woman outside of the stall says and you recognize her by voice. She works for the accounting department and regularly walks into your office for weekly reports.

“I was keeping an eye of him. It’s annoying that they work together now so he’s always all over her.”

No doubt this conversation is about you.

“Tell me about it. I bet they’re fucking, you saw how he looked at her.”

“Doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” The toilet flushes and you can hear her shrugging her skirt back up to her thighs.

You hear a gasp. “Oh my god, you’re right. It’s that young guy who keep bringing her lunch, right? She didn’t break up with him?”

The stall opens and both women are in front of the counter. You’re stuck in your seat, not knowing whether to kick open the door or to interrupt the conversation but with Seokjin’s flash drive in your clammy hands, you struggle to even breathe.

“They’re still together. Looks like that photographer dick is too good to give up for the office hunk.”

They laugh like hyenas – that high, shrieking kind of laugh that makes their red lipstick bleed onto the corners of their mouths.

“They’re so out of her league. What do they even see in her? She’s painfully average. The only thing she’s got going on is a good wardrobe.”

You keep your head lowered when they walk past your stall as if they could see you. They pull on the paper towel lever until they can rip a generous piece and wipe their hands.

“She’s rich. She’s probably only working here because it keeps her humble or some bullshit like that. You know how girls with daddy’s money are, thinking they’re doing charity for working like the rest of us-”

You don’t hear the rest of their conversation, glad that your face no longer feels hot but you’re angered all the same. Jungkook’s visits, for this reason, had made you nervous in the beginning because you know they’ll talk and come up with their own little villain fantasy about you. It doesn’t bother you as you keep work separate from life (something Jungkook had been interrupting much to your discomfort) but hearing it in person ignited the kind of angry tears that has you cursing at yourself for letting yourself be disturbed by it.

You grab your handbag off the hook, place the flash drive back in your pocket, and unlock the stall before pushing the door open. You wash your hands in haste as the air had become suffocating in the aftermath of the two women. Wiping your wet hands down your black slacks, you let your wavy hair down and let it frame your face to hide your flushed cheeks, making sure that your eyes are no longer moist and your nose isn’t pink. What a way to end a workday.

When you arrive back at the office, most of your coworkers are gone except for the new interns organizing papers for tomorrow and the occasional workaholics making coffee in the makeshift cafeteria. You just hope you won’t run into the two women if they choose to swing by for whatever reason but, thankfully, it was never a common occurrence. They never did above the bare minimum any way.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips when you slump back down your office chair, squeezing your nose bridge as a wave of exhaustion wracks havoc in your pulsing head.

“There are some more sandwiches in the fridge, please help yourself if you’d like.” A student intern says as she carries a crumpled file under one arm, peering from above your divider.

“Oh!” You exclaim, your head darting towards the room Sora left in a mess before turning back to the girl. “Thank you, I’ll help myself. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She gives a short nod before leaving, the glass door squeaking as the office once again is filled with the sound of coffee machines whirring and papers shredding.

The USB flash drive sits heavy in your pocket as you wave goodbye to the last person leaving your department with a cup of coffee. She nods, smiling, and pushes out the heavy glass door and you silently hope she won’t forget to return the mug before leaving the building. You listen to the clacking of her heels fading before turning back to the work computer still logged into your account. The saturated blue screen is harsh on your vision and you find yourself squeezing your eyes shut, turning to look at the clock on the wall momentarily to keep yourself grounded.

Jungkook can call at any minute as your shift is coming to an end.

Maybe it would be easier to do this with your phone turned off but knowing him, he would worry enough to drive over to make sure you’re safe.

Within the gray walls that surround your cubicle, you should feel secure. Yet, some part of you wonders if he would suddenly appear behind you and wrap you in his arms before asking you what you’re up to. In this nightmare of a scenario, you can also feel the antagonizing gaze of the two women.

Looking back down at the USB, you’ve come to realize that you have bigger things to worry about. Some part of you feels just as disgusting as a cheater taking off her ring in the presence of another man.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

You’ve rehearsed the same mantra in your head at least a hundred times within the same hour (before you had the unfortunate chance to overhear that unpleasant conversation) and it sickens you that this is a phrase that Namjoon would have used to justify his time with Yori. It’s a cheater’s mentality – a cowardly way of shifting responsibility away from themselves without considering the consequences when the truth comes to light.  

With a sigh, you pull the flash drive out of your pocket and flip the black casing open until the lid hangs off its hinges to reveal the silver end. You look around once more, taking a deep breath, and push the end into the appropriate slot of the system unit. The USB flashes a neon green light, pulsing as it loads, before it dims and a small ping pulls your attention back to the screen.

The file explorer window expands, showing a ZIP file among an array of photos that had you squinting to observe. You jolt straight from the seat as your phone rings. Cursing under your breath as you note an incoming call. You’re just about to turn back to the screen when you recognize that the number flashing across your screen isn’t Jungkook’s but your mother’s. She never called at this time and if she did, she would have texted you first to make sure you weren’t in a meeting.

Just as you reach for the phone, it stops ringing and you contemplate turning it off. But something tells you you should have taken the call. When the phone rings again, causing you to flinch, you let it vibrate twice before swiping across the screen.

In exactly five minutes, you will regret ever picking up the call. In ten minutes, you’re running for your life.

…

Jungkook paces back and forth with his thumb between his teeth. If he bit his nails any shorter, he would pierce through skin. Your voice still rings in his ear as you cry into the phone, your tires screaming through the speaker as you speed through the streets back to the apartment. He’s sick with worry, wondering if you crashed into a tree of if you decided – on a whim – to handle this situation yourself. Because you called him immediately after you left work, he has a feeling you wouldn’t do anything stupid but today has been especially unpredictable.

First, your mother coming to meet him. Second, the same woman pushing Yori down the stairs and threatening you to take care of it. If he’d heard you correctly, the old wench even mentioned she would make his life a living hell if you don’t head over immediately. Some mother you are. It pisses him off to no end that you had to live with her for half of your life but it makes him even more upset that you’ve been hiding your mother’s behavior, throwing excuses about how much she worries when she’d call in the mornings and leave voicemails that you delete without listening.

He changes into a pair of jeans and an old university sweatshirt that is a bit too tight on the cuffs. When he hears the sound of your heels clack on the other side of the door, he barely had the time to wrap his head around such a God-given opportunity.

As soon as the door swings open you’re falling into his arms, wracked with sobs as he engulfs your entire torso in his arms. He presses your head further below his neck, reaching behind you to grab his coat off the hanger and wrap it around you before kicking the door close in case a neighbor passes by. You can’t bear to lift your head, trembling as your teeth chatter and your pupils are wide with fear. He’s never seen you like this – not even during the wedding night – and it makes his insides squeeze as if someone had reached in him and pressed a hand against his organs.

“I-I don’t know w-” you sob, “I don’t know w-what to do. I can’t breathe. Jungkook-”

He hushes you softly, threading his fingers through your hair with his thumbs curling around your ear. He tilts your head up towards his gaze, watching your tears trail down your face and onto the coat. Between gasps, you’re wailing, your throat tightened to the point that even his name sounds like nails on chalkboard on your lips.

“Noona, you have to breathe for me. Inhale,” he brings air into his nostrils as demonstration, “and exhale. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, swallowing first before you mimic and close your eyes. Jungkook brings a hand up to your chest, digging underneath the coat to feel it pounding against your ribcage.

“Keep breathing, noona. It’s going to be okay, keep breathing.” He rubs his warm palm over the chiffon and you find yourself leaning your forehead against his chest in exhaustion.

You wish you could stay in his embrace forever. Locked inside this warm and unassuming apartment, away from your mother, away from the past that has now resurfaced in the worst way imaginable – you wish you can curl into his arms and never leave. That…or you just want the world to swallow you in a deep well and leave you to starve.

“We have to tell the police.” You tremble. You can’t imagine the repercussions, not to mention the heartache of seeing your mother behind bars. She’d rather hang herself than end up in prison, you know that much. You’d sworn to your father before his passing that you’d keep her safe and you’re already thinking of running away.

“Noona…”

“We do. We…I have to. I-I mean it was an accident,” you’re suddenly peeling yourself away from him, bringing your hands up to rub your face. “They’ll give her m-maybe three or four years at most, right? If it was an accident it won’t be…”

Jungkook comes up behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders and rubbing up and down. You’re shaking again, tears streaming even quicker than before and the nausea is causing you to falter from side to side.

“Kookie, I don’t know what to do. Please tell me what to do, I’m going crazy. I don’t know what to do.”

He places his forehead against the crown of your head, staring into the distance. You feel his fingers tighten around your arm before he’s wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting his weight upon your collarbones.

“Do you trust me, noona?” He whispers.

The fridge hums in the distance. You nod.

“Yes…I trust you. With my life.”

When he doesn’t reply, you turn your body, slowly, as if you were anticipating a monster and not a man, until you can look up at his face. He’s rubs his thumbs over your tears and moves down to your chapped lips, swollen and pink from your incessant gnawing. Your lips part just slightly as you exhale, keeping your eyes locked onto his loving eyes. He looks so angelic under the kitchen lights, the yellow bulbs blurred by the moisture in your eyes to form a halo around his long fringe. His hair is parted in the middle to form a curtain around his structured face, casting a shadow over his eyes in the semi-darkness. You can’t see him clearly with the lights behind him but you can sense his confidence, his reassuring grip on your cheeks; he’s no longer the boy from the night before but a man who is willing to keep the promise he made to you.

“I can help you.” He whispers softly once more, his voice lowered. “If you take me to the body…I can help you, noona.”

He holds your gaze, his thumbs still rubbing softly over your cheeks as if to coax the words into your skin. The implication isn’t lost on you but your body reacts first, fingers shaking as a fresh wave of sweat prickles down your back.

“W-What do you…” you trail off as your breathing grows heavy. Jungkook puts a hand on your chest once more as he did before, rubbing softly over your chest to calm your pounding heart.

He holds you close, breathing in your skin once more as his own eyes sting with unshed tears. Fate is a terrible thing and for every moment of bliss with you, he must pay the price; except, this price is a new opportunity to secure you by his side and earn your mother’s silent approval. It’s okay, Jungkook thinks, he can do this for you. He has the resources, the will, the strength, the plans – the only thing he can’t predict is your mental well-being in the aftermath.

Will you lose respect for him? Will you still love him? One thing he was sure of was that this was the only chance to keep your mother from arranging a marriage partner for you. He must go through it to not only save your sanity, your mother, but your answer when he puts one knee on the ground and opens the velvet box he keeps on top of the fridge for the perfect time. Oh how the universe responded so quickly to the day’s worries.

“Back then…when you said you would…”

Kill

“…You would do that for me. You really meant it, baby?”

Jungkook brings your head back under his chin and keeps you there, rocking from side to side as if to lull you to sleep.

“I meant every word. I’m not afraid, noona, not if it means I can protect you and your family.” His eyes darken as he tangles his fingers into your hair, twirling the ends of your waves between his fingers. “You love me, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Then I need you to listen to me.”

With great reluctance, he pulls you away and holds your palm in both of his larger hands. Your eyes are closed, whether from fatigue or concentration he doesn’t know until your brows scrunch when he speaks.  

“Call your mother when I tell you to and tell her you’re on your way over. If she asks why you didn’t answer her previous calls, tell her you had an emergency at work. Reassure her and make sure she doesn’t touch anything more than she’s probably already touched by now. Don’t mention that I’m coming with you, understand? She might panic and bring attention to herself if there’s any witnesses.”

You nod continuously, creating a mental checklist. Call, inform, excuse, reassure, move.

“And noona?”

You look back up into his eyes.

“You…you won’t hate me after tonight…would you?”

How could you fathom it? With his warm, sincere stare and willingness to walk to the ends of earth for someone as plain and unlovable as you, you should be on your knees worshipping him. You don’t understand how he can think of you hating him when he had so willingly put his entire life at risk without reluctance. You aren’t asking him to fetch a forgotten carton of milk at the corner store. You’re asking him to clean up the mess your mother made, a mess that can tear your entire world apart, a mess that has nothing to do with your boyfriend who has no boundaries to prove his devotion.

You shake your head. “I could never,” you breathe.

You hold him this time, letting his body bow towards your trembling figure as he breathes in the scent of sweat and perfume on your neck. You give him a moment of peace. You wanted him to remember this touch as after this night is over, you don’t know if you’ll be the same person. You don’t know if he’ll be either.

He goes over the plan once more and leads you to his car. When Jungkook straps you into the passenger seat and turns the ignition key, you curl your fingers around your shaking knees. He notices your anxiety and takes the closest hand in his before letting your palm rest over the gear shift. He places his own hand on top of yours, gripping tightly when he shifts and maneuvers the car out of the parking lot and onto the road before unclenching.

The sky is pitch black and the moon stalks from behind. You count every tree, read every sign, tense at every sign of a police car passing by, and sniffle when your burning eyes refuse to calm. You don’t register where you are until Jungkook lets go of your hand on the shifting gear and undo his seatbelt. You’re inside the garage of his studio, surrounded by wires, cardboard boxes, plastic bins, and office supplies. When you grasp his arm, letting out a small cry, he hushes you instantly, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a tender kiss on your knuckles.

“I’ll be quick, noona. I just need to get some things, okay? I’ll be right there-” he points to the very back of the car – “in view.”

You swallow, nodding before uncurling your grip from his arm.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint for Jungkook not to coo at your desperation. He missed this dependency of yours (he had only seen it during the wedding night and the necklace argument) and for once he wonders if he went a bit too far with his role as the sweet and needy boyfriend. He’s not acting in a way that he doesn’t want to but he is guilty of dramatizing some of his pleas and affectionate touches. He knows, in his head, that he is a man. He’s stronger, taller, capable of committing a crime and not just cleaning its aftermath, and will eventually be the father of your children. He’ll tug his collar open to expose his vulnerabilities, but he will show you his strength too. Tonight is a blessing from the universe that will, finally, keep you where you belong: at his side, looking at him, and needing only him.

You watch as Jungkook swings open the trunk of his car and load three large plastic bins and pile photography equipment – tripods, developer fluids, camera bags, lighting equipment, and even a small monitor. And then you see the last box of supplies: rope, black plastic bags, gloves, masks, bleach, towels, and tape. When his eyes meet yours, he flashes you a small smile between his labored breaths, the kind you’re used to seeing after you make love to him and he’s spent, sprawled on the sheets with an arm over his perspired forehead. The car jolts slightly as pushes the back door shut and hop back into the driver seat, adjusting the temperature in the car, muttering something under his breath, and latching his seat belt back on.

He keeps both hands on the wheel. “Noona…make the call now.”

You’re frozen, hands clasped together on your lap.

“Kookie…”

You’re having doubts. He can see it in the way you can’t even bear to look at him. He digs through your pocket and presses your cell phone on your lap. When the lockscreen awakens to the photo of you two, you feel your heart anchor to the bottom of your stomach.

“I-I can’t do it.” You shake your head. “We have to go to the police. I can’t live without you, I can’t live without mom, we’ll get caught and I-” You press your hands to your face, your hoarse sobs lodged deep in your throat before it rips from your chest in the kind of wailing that makes Jungkook’s own heart squeeze. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Yori either e-even if it means my family…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”

He sees himself in you. He sees himself as the teen boy who let Taehyung drag his scalpel across his father, then his mother, before encouraging him to give it a try. You’re a virgin. Even if tonight worked out perfectly according to his plans, you’d still be a crime virgin. It was your mother who pushed Yori, not you. Knowing how empathetic you are, how tender you are, it might as well be you who pushed the woman down the stairs. He knows your fear all too well and he knows just how quick your hummingbird heartbeat is underneath his coat that you’re wearing. You’re just like him.

“You’re beautiful, noona.” He places a palm over your clasped hands and brings his other hand up to your face, tucking your hair behind your ears and strumming your cheeks with the back of his fingers.

“No one deserves your kindness. It fucking upsets me,” he swallows, allowing his eyes to water, “that even a mother will take advantage of that kindness.”

You sob into his hand, leaning your temple against the head rest. He’s right. How many times have your mother, before Jungkook came into your life, morphed you into something you’re not? The days you spent trying to please her, comparing yourself to other children she would complement to get a reaction out of you, letting yourself be a pawn for when she wanted something from your father that either required money or the right handshake. You still love her above all because she’s your mother but there’s no denying how much it still touches every part of your life from your relationships to your career. Moving away from her and letting her fade into the background was a true feat and it pains you that all that effort crumbled away and you’re left in a bigger mess to clean than before. If only you hadn’t taken the fucking call.

Maybe this was your fault. Maybe, if you hadn’t been such a hard-headed person, she would never had driven over to Yori’s place and none of this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have to get Jungkook involved either, as willing as he is.

“You trust me, don’t you?” Jungkook slouches back into his seat, putting his hands back onto the steering wheel. “Don’t you, noona?”

You nod, keeping your head lowered.

“Then be good for me and call. I’ll take care of you and I’ll take care of everything else. I’ve never broken that promise, not now, not ever.”

Jungkook hopes that’ll work. He’s rather annoyed but not at you, never at you. Why couldn’t she tumble down those stairs too instead of giving you such unnecessary stress? This kind of stain would be terrible for the baby had you been pregnant. It’s tearing him apart watching how different you are now compared to this morning, leaving the apartment in comfort only to come falling into his arms in tears. He came to the conclusion that you’re simply too pure for the world.

Oh how romantic tonight would be if you were honest with yourself all along. Claiming to loathe your mother with the strength of a thousand suns only to act like this when she shows up with baggage. Jungkook can’t blame you for you shared a majority of your life with the wench, but he finds it exasperating that you can’t see how little of your pity people like her deserve. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t be the love of his life if you weren’t so sensitive and caring.

It was with great relief that you mustered the courage to swipe across the phone screen and type your mother’s number.

He clicks open the garage door and the vehicle begins to descend down the elevated lot.

“M-mom? I’m on my way now…c-can you tell me where you are? It’ll be okay…I know mom, I-I’ll be there soon…”

…

You feel eerily calm as Jungkook drives past your mother’s car parked in the front of the gate to circle around the perimeter of the fence. He doesn’t recognize the new gate but he’d climbed over the old ones many times to watch you on the balcony. The metal may have changed but the level of security should be the same given that the villas are built a good distance apart between trees and the residents – people with mostly new money – keep to themselves. Lodged between a large tree and a partial opening in the back gate that is no doubt left ajar by your mother, Jungkook step out of the vehicle and press the door close before coming over to your side.

He’s relieved that you’re no longer in tears but your hands are still freezing cold despite the heat turned to the max inside. Your eyes are wandering and your breaths are labored as you press your body close to Jungkook’s.

Your mother is waiting near the door, her head poking out just slightly in the darkness and you can see the familiar row of bracelets on her wrist. She seems to have aged several years in just the last few months and the reason for her demise is standing next to you.

“Are you insane?” She seethes as she pulls you by the arm into the dark house and keep her eyes on Jungkook whose gaze bore into her skull. “How could you bring another-”

Jungkook barely had the time to secure your grip on his arm when you gasp, flinching back to hit the chess table next to where he’s standing when you see Yori’s pale arm stretched out from beneath a mat. The deep crimson shade of blood had congealed on the marble, partially smudged by the mat above her weighing her corpse down. Deep inside you had hoped that at least the baby could be saved, by some miracle, but the damage is far too great. Accident or not, a police officer finding this scene would not consider a light sentence if you mother decided to confess.

The older woman’s jaw is clenched, no doubt suppressing the panic she too feels hammering inside her as you hang off of Jungkook arm, trembling still. She looks up to your boyfriend and finds herself jolting awake when his eyes are peering down at her. He looks kind, sympathetic, soft, as if he is still sitting across her on your couch, eager to prove that he can be the son-in-law she’s been looking for all along.

“You should head home for the night. I’ll handle the rest.”

She scratches at her bracelets, her nails tugging the gold free from her skin. “B-But…where are you taking her? Anyone will find it if she’s buried in the yard.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer the question.

“Please go home and make sure there are no witnesses. I know you didn’t inform anyone before coming here,” he turns his head towards the body, “so go home as if you were never here. I promise I’ll take care of it.”

It’s evident the older woman is relieved by the way her shoulders slump but her gaze is still firm as she measures her trust into the young man who is in full control of your heart. Your eyes are still on the body when your mother takes your hands in hers and gives a squeeze.

“Sweetheart…” she croaks. She knew she gave birth to such a dependable, obedient daughter. You’re every mother’s dream and she makes a mental note to come back to your apartment with more boxes of food and perhaps make amends. There are far too many misunderstandings and miscommunication; it’s no way for a mother and child to live.

However, when you rip your hands away and take Jungkook’s hand in yours, her face crumbles.

“I don’t ever want to see you again.” You hiss, your voice straining. You’ve never spoken to her like this and didn’t think about doing so until you saw the body, the mess your boyfriend has to clean. “You did this to us.”

“Wh-”

“Leave me alone. Please, mom. Get out of here, okay?” Your eyes glisten and you wipe away the droplets before they have the chance to fall. “It’s…we’re putting our lives on the line for you. It’s the least you can do now…so please…”

Between your pleas and Jungkook’s silence, your mother bites the inside of her cheek from saying anything more and turns back the way you came in. You watch her figure recede into the darkness, her shoes clacking softly on the cobblestone path. She turns back to look at you before the door closes and for once, you earn the most genuine apology you’ve ever received and this time she didn’t even need to open her mouth.

When the door falls back into place, Jungkook gives your shoulders a comforting rub and leads you towards the staircase, reminding you to breathe. He feels a bit more relieved that your mother didn’t raise too much of a ruckus. How could she when he’s the one getting his hands dirty? It’s what the perfect son-in-law will do and after this night is over, he’ll no longer have doubts about her approval. She wouldn’t have a valid argument anyway – not when he had just proved that he’s willing to go to the ends of Earth for your family and stability.

You’re too cute, Jungkook thinks, as you breathe through your nose and exhale through your lips. You’re a mirror image of his virgin self coated in blood, panicked but euphoric, angered but more than relieved to be rid of the parasites that kept him in the sewers.

“H-how are we going to do this?” You breathe, looking up the stairs as if you were expecting Namjoon to be standing there.

“I’ll handle the body. You can help me wipe down the stairs, okay?”

And handle it he did. He first fetched the supplies from the car, making sure once more that there are no witnesses while also keeping you within sight. Even without a severe puncture wound, Yori made quite a mess.

The terror didn’t come from seeing your former friend of years lay in a puddle of her own secretions. Nor did it come from seeing how calm and collected your boyfriend is peering down at the body with something akin to annoyance. No, terror came from how easily your mind and body adapted to helping Jungkook. You had no more tears left to shed when he lifted the mat from the body and placed a plastic covering next to her before rolling her body onto it. The sheet rustles beneath her weight and the stench of iron and urine fills your nostrils, prompting you to place your gloved hand over your nose.

Jungkook seems to know just what to do. He orders for you to wipe the railings first, which you do so with the slowness of a snail climbing a brick wall. The smell of bleach kept the nausea at bay and prompted you to focus on the smaller tasks because you can feel your heart already beginning to race with the sound of your boyfriend dragging Yori by the feet to straighten her posture. When you risked a glance back, you catch yourself feeling irked by the way Jungkook places her fingers so tenderly on her flattened stomach. Even when he’s wearing gloves, you catch yourself glaring at his touch on her skin, at the way his fingers brush over the ring on her finger. It makes you clench your jaw harder, pour more bleach onto the staircase, and wipe down each step with vigor.

She’s dead, she can’t take him from you.

You spray the bleach onto the top step, scrubbing with the heel of your palm as your shoulder fights through aches and pressure. You can do this. If Jungkook kept his promise, you must too. You will never find another man who will devote his entire life to you and for that you must not be too forgiving to those who don’t deserve your kindness, not this time.

All your life it’s one person after another coming to take what they want and leave. This is your lesson to finally take yourself back from them all, to come to terms with how much you gave and how little you received, see that Jungkook was the catalyst you desperately needed. It was no coincidence that when the elevator doors opened that very night of your wedding, he was the person standing in front of you. He was meant to be there holding your shoes as he rescues you away from those who would eventually suck the life out of you. He’s not someone you should be afraid of – no – because he’s your savior.

When you turn back again, Jungkook is slipping Yori’s legs into a large, black plastic bag identical to the one she’s laying on. He uses the bag beneath her to fight friction as he slides her body forward, careful not to bend her body before the duct tape comes into play.

And suddenly, your shoulder doesn’t ache anymore. Your heartbeat slows as you take another deep breath, this time through your lips, and watch his shoulders hunch over and forearm veins protrude.

“Kookie?”

He looks up, hair damp with sweat as it falls over his eyes. The lights from the front lawn, as it filter through dark maroon curtains, casts a red glow on your lover’s skin. When he meets your eyes he’s filled with glee, seeing that you’re no longer panicking and your eyes are clouded with a kind of protective apathy that lets him know you’ve gotten stronger. You’re dipping a toe into his world.

“Yes, noona?” He huffs, straightening his spine and wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist.

“Nothing will happen to us after tonight…right?”

He physically melts at your saccharine voice. You’re worried about him, about whether he’ll still want you after this and if he’ll want you forever. “Of course not, noona. Are you feeling okay? Do you need to rest?” He asks if he hadn’t been the one packing the corpse into a bag.

You shake your head with a sniffle. “…I’m fine.” You’re not sure what to say, so you rub the cleaning cloth between your fingers and shy away from his eyes. “J just wanted to hear you say that.”

A smile spreads across his face, slow but bright as if he had just heard the most amazing thing. You can’t smile back and instead focus back on the floors and the last few inches of the railing.

You make sure to wipe the decorations nearby, in case your mother left any fingerprints on the lacquered surfaces. She can be rather careless in dire situations. You’re lifting yourself off the floor when something catches your eye: a large crib with layers and layers of blankets and fuzzy cloud and star plushies.

“What kind of bedtime stories should we tell our kids?”

Namjoon puts his head on your lap, sighing in relief when his neck is elevated at just the right position to depressurize the knot.

“What about myths? About the constellations and such.”

You giggle, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Isn’t that a little too mature for babies?”

When he doesn’t answer, you wave you hand in front of his eyes. He squints, chuckling. So this is what marriage life is going to be like – he can get used to it. “You’re right, that is a bit too much. Then…hm…they’ll learn about the types of clouds in the sky and we can go from there.”

“Joonie, I love you, but don’t come crying when our kids prefer mama’s stories over papa’s boring myths and random science facts.”

“We’ll see when we get to that point. Either way, you’re stuck with me.”

Asshole.

A fucking good-for-nothing lying asshole.

Gifting the same toys he promised to give to your future children to the same bitch who ruined your life, your family, and your sanity; they deserved each other, you think, and they both deserve to disappear as if they had never existed. The unborn baby inside Yori is innocent but a part of you is elated that he’ll never experience the kind of fatherhood he wanted. You silently wished Namjoon would tumble down the very same staircase you cleaned and joined Yori in a happy couple’s embrace to…

“Kookie?” You call out to your boyfriend who had duct taped the body in a semi-mummified state and used a shibari knot with his jute rope for easy carrying. He’d dragged the body next to the railing and leaned it against one of the stair planks in an upright position so that after he inspects the house for any evidence, he can bring the corpse easily over his shoulder.

“Yes, noona?”

“Where are we going to bury her?”

Jungkook wets his lips. He can’t possibly tell you the process of disposing a body or else you’ll surely fall back into panic so he gives you the simplest answer he can. “I’ll have to keep her body in the freezer in my studio. I’ll look for a place to burn it soon.”

You nod, swallowing as your throat tightens uncomfortably once more. The waves of anxiety come and goes. Jungkook knows how you’re feeling all too well and he wishes he could just hold you in your arms until tomorrow comes. Much to his distain, he knows you’re partly living your fantasy of making Yori pay for her involvement with Namjoon. You no longer love the man but anyone in your shoes wouldn’t deny there is a sense of satisfaction in seeking vengeance after a lifetime of humiliation that dampened your reputation in both your personal and professional sphere. Jungkook prays that getting rid of Yori will eliminate your mind of their presence although he highly doubts it; you’re not always rainbows and flowers. It’s only natural for you to be curious about taking another life when anger consumes logic. Most of these thoughts are fleeting ,which is why you had surprised Jungkook by your composure. He expected screaming at the very least but all you could do was cry.

He understands.

After he watched the life drain out of his parents, Taehyung had watched him cry for the longest time and when the next day came, it was like the world had turned its back while he washed the blood off his hands. The anxiety was terrible – at least for the first month or two – and then it was as if nothing had happened.

Like he learned before and like you’re learning now, it didn’t take much to get rid of a person. Over time, it just became muscle memory, kind of like making your morning coffee half-asleep. Now that you’ve gotten your first taste of the power, he wonders how you’ll cope. Will you fall into despair and regret it all in the morning? Will you be hungry for more? How will you return his most tiresome display of affection? These are questions he can’t answer. But what he does know is that you finally understand what love is in his world.

Love isn’t just about a ring on the finger or a baby in the crib. Love has to hurt. It has to infest your dreams and turn them into nightmares, wreak havoc on your heart, rip off the magnet in your moral compass. It’s why the human heart is caged behind ribs – it can hardly be tamed.

…

As the car lurches behind trees and between unpaved roads, Jungkook notifies your mother about what to do next. It would not raise suspicion for her to leave the country for a few weeks, especially since she had been traveling to speak to investors abroad. It would take some of the burden off his shoulders too; your mother is a cunning woman who fears losing money more than losing you so he had no trouble alluding to her demise if she disobeys. While you look away, he quickly sends a notification to Jimin to make sure the older man will take care of the rest. When he receives an immediate response back, his shoulders slump in relief and he pockets the phone back into his jeans.

When he takes your hand in his again, the other gripping the wheel, you give him the smallest of smiles through the silence.

Three is a crowd. The body folded and hidden in the rear space between his photography equipment makes your head turn every now and then to make sure it doesn’t escape somehow. You’re exhausted beyond belief but Jungkook is here, his palm over your hand on the shifting gear once more, to keep you grounded. The night feels like it might go on forever.

The streets pass by in a blur – nightlife still alive and pulsing with neon signs – and there’s a kind of peace enclosed in the car that you can’t find anywhere else. It’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook has always been and will always be there for you. Whether to take you from somewhere or bring you to some place, he’s the only person in your life left that you could depend on. As he expertly drives through tight alleyways where gas station surveillance cameras can’t reach him, you’re dozing off with your head against the window.  

“We’re almost there.” He says while running his thumb over your knuckles. There’s blood on his shirt and your neck but you’re too tired to care.

You awaken with a gasp when Jungkook swings the door open; he had been careful not to wake you but you feel enough residual adrenaline to jolt awake at the smallest of sounds. It takes a moment for you to recognize the inside of his garage, the bright LED lightbulb hanging above causing you to squint as your eyes adjust.

Unaware that you’re awake, Jungkook quickly moves to the rear of the car and swing Yori’s body over his shoulders, tightening the ropes around where her neck and feet are to secure his grip. He carries the wrapped body towards the door next to the shelves and kicks it open to reveal several more stocked shelves before coming to a halt at the buzzing freezer. With a free hand, he lifts the lid open and removes several bags of seafood and miscellaneous food items you can’t quite make out before rolling the body inside the interior. He places the bags on top of the body and latches the freezer shut, securing it with a combination lock from one of his bins.

When he steps back and shut the storage door before turning, he’s surprised to see you standing in the doorway, your hair a mess, his coat hanging loose off one shoulder.  

“Do you remember the night after you took my engagement photos? The ones at that same house?”

His brows scrunch slightly in confusion as he nods. There’s a noticeable flush on your cheeks as you breath in and out from your lips, a puff forming in the chill of the garage. You’re half-asleep, the exhaustion resting well deep in your bones but you can’t bring yourself to find your way towards his bed.

“I left my bedroom door open for you. I-I watched you from the balcony and waited for you to come back.”

Jungkook’s lips part, something foreign stirring in his stomach as the coat weighs down your shoulders and you don’t stop it from sliding down your arms, letting it pool around your feet. You don’t know why you wanted to confess but it felt right. It felt right to confess to something that isn’t about being an accessory in a crime.  

“Why didn’t you say anything, noona?”

You close the distance, putting both of your hands on his chest, over the blood stains on the university sweatshirt. He exhales loudly when you bring him down to your level by a tug of his collar, your lips just a mere centimeter apart.

“Because I wanted you then just as much as I want you now.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to close the gap between your lips, slamming your body onto the car behind you as he brings one of your legs over his waist to press himself against your heat. Your fingers curl around the nape of his neck and he listens to your squeal as he lifts you fully off the ground and lets you wrap both your legs around him this time. You break the kiss and pepper sweet kisses over the mole on his neck and the smears of dried blood that caked onto his sweatshirt.

“I love you so much,” you whisper, moving your head to the other side of his neck to suckle on his warm skin and feel his pulse through the jugular.

Jungkook quickly throws open the door to the studio and steps into the darkness, his memory allowing him to lead you towards the bathroom without his eyes adjusting. Your eyes burn once more when he reaches behind you to shut the bathroom door close and turn on the yellowed lights with the back of his elbow. When your face comes into view, he sits you on the counter next to the sink and pushes his tongue back in your mouth, your name leaving his lips with a whimper.

He’s terribly hard against your thighs, his length straining through his jeans. You tug him forward by the belt as you break the kiss once more and let him rip open your blood and bleach-stained blouse.

“God, you’re so beautiful, noona. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

He moans as you press the heel of your feet up his erection, his voice muffled by skin filling his mouth as he takes the top your left breast spilling from the brassiere on his tongue. You arch to chase the heat of his tongue, back of your head leaning on the mirror behind.

“My good boy…such a good boy…”

The effect your praise has on him is immediate. Jungkook reaches behind his neck and pulls the sweatshirt over his head, ruffling his hair in the process. You watch him unbuckle and tug his belt free from the hoops before unclasping the front of his jeans. Impatient, he circles his arms around you to undo the brassiere, leaning down to kiss the indents on your skin as you slip your blouse off your shoulders and pull the straps down your arms. The coolness of the counter causes a hiss to leave your lips and Jungkook drinks in your state of orgasmic delirium like an aphrodisiac.

It’s a blessing for you to have worn a less difficult pair of pants to shimmy out of. With a short tug, Jungkook slides the waistband of your wool slacks and cotton panties down your ankles. When he pauses, chest rising and falling steadily, you follow his gaze to see a streak of blood in the middle of the light pink fabric.

In the time between your mother’s call and your boyfriend dumping your former best friend’s body in a freezer, your period makes an early appearance. The streak of blood is bright and vibrant, unlike Yori’s blood that oxidized into a deep maroon shade on his tanned skin. Jungkook tugs your pants down your ankles but takes your panties into one hand, his doe eyes coming to rest on the blood before something snaps within him.

He throws the fabric on the floor and hooks his arms beneath your shin, prompting you to gasp as he spreads your thighs apart. He stares down at your dark pubic hair before tracing two fingers up your slit and into the curls. His fingers reappear with your blood, seeping underneath his short nails and the crevices of his nailbed.

“Can I taste you, noona?” He breathes, chest rising and falling even faster. His cheeks are flaming red, the flush reaching his earlobes as his lips part for more air. He feels like he can’t breathe, seeing how beautiful, fertile, and red you are for him.

You’re hesitant, the blood reminding you of what you just done – what he just done – yet the burning in your belly proves that you want this just as much as he does. You barely had the chance to nod before Jungkook pushes his face into your pussy, his tongue lapping the blood on your vulva and clit as his nose buries in your trimmed curls. You taste metallic, as if he’s sucking on a penny, but it’s light and the syrupy texture allows him to take all of your juices in his mouth. When his tongue draws circles around your clit and he presses his lips around the nub like a suction, your fingers immediately grasp his hair from the roots, begging his tongue to fuck your weeping pussy.

Jungkook laps your folds like a starving puppy until you’re arching for him once more, thighs trapping his head where it belongs as your cum gushes out of you with traces with red. Between your blood and your juices, he can’t decide which one tastes better. The metallic tang disappears, leaving a fragrant aftertaste that he can only indulge when he inhales through his nose after swallowing what remains on his teeth. When your knees twitch, Jungkook pulls back to come up for air, watching your expression as your eyes fall to his wet crimson lips, the mess reaching his chin and jaw.

It takes a minute for you to gather yourself together and in your exhaustion a slow but soft smile reaches your lips.

“Does it taste good, baby?”

“Heavenly,” he whispers as he traps your body between his arms and gives you a taste, twisting his tongue deep inside your warm mouth. Your hands stroke the contours of his biceps and triceps, core aching as he groans when you lick your remainings from his chin.

You can tell he’s tired, having to do most of the manual labor. He winces as you knead his shoulders and it makes your chest ache. Even when he’s hurting, he takes care of you first. Your precious boy.

“Turn on the shower for me.”

Jungkook is aching to be inside you but he obeys, turning away to step inside the shower and twist the silver handle lodged into the tile. You stand behind him, moving away just slightly when the water – steadily turning hot – sprays over his hair and onto your breasts. Just as he’s about to turn around you circle your arms around his waist and reach into his jeans, palming his throbbing cock before pulling his jeans and briefs down his ankles. He steps out of the tight fabric, watching the remnants of Yori’s blood spiral down the drain as you kick the fabric in front of his toes.

The shower hose is harsh on his head but he can’t seem to pull away, one arm holding onto the wall for purchase, when you cushion your knees with his wet, blood-stained jeans. He can’t get any harder watching water drip from the ends of his hair down to your erect nipples, sliding down between the valley of your breasts and onto your soft stomach.

You’re delighted to see his cock twitch, taking your bottom lip under your teeth as you look up at him.

“You want mommy to take care of you, Kookie?”

He nods, exhaling as his abdomen clenches.

“You want to cum all over mommy’s tits, yeah? Make me proud?”

“Unng…” He moans in response, hips bucking forward to slide his leaking tip across your lips. He whimpers when you pull away, your smile twisting when his stomach clenches again.

You massage his firm thighs, gliding over every ripple of his muscles and over to the patch of pubic hair above his cock. When you pass your hands over his belly button, you stretch a palm up towards his face.

“Spit.”

The mole beneath his lips appear as he gathers as much saliva as he can produce on his tongue and spits into your palm. There are some traces of blood in your palm but you pay no attention to it as you place your saliva-coated palm over his cock and make a fist around the length.

“Mo-mmy,” he throws his head back, the shower head coming down his flushed pecs. Your fist begins to move slow but tight around his hardness. “It feels so good. Fuck…unng, mommy…please…”

Jungkook can cum just from your warm breath hitting his leaking tip but he doesn’t. When you lean forward and take his entire length in your mouth, tongue stretched as far as you can as you press your nose against his pubes, his jaw drops. You’re warm, wet, and fuck, so tight.

His other hand combs through your hair, reaching underneath the nape to pull your head back until your half-lidded eyes can watch his skin glisten.

With your hands back on his thighs, Jungkook expects you to move. What he doesn’t expect was you to tighten your throat before swallowing with his entire length in your mouth.

“Fuck!”

You gag around him but repeats, breathing through your nose before letting your whimpers and cries vibrate his cock. He’s about to lose it, his tightening grip causing your scalp to burn.

“You’re so pretty, mommy,” he pulls his length back just slightly to let you suction him back inside. When his entire length is warm and pulsing in the back of your throat, you swallow once more and begin moving up and down, your eyes closing as Jungkook backs your head to the tile and fucks your mouth at a steady pace.

“Wanna cum in your throat, all over you, inside you. God, you’re so perfect.” He chants, abdomen clenching when your throat tightens just right over his pink tip.

You hum, hands trailing behind his thighs and up to his firm cheeks to push him forward. His grip tightens once more when he whimpers your name, over and over again, his cock driving into your mouth with a vigor that’s bound to leave your throat sore in the morning.

The first spurt of his warm cum hits your uvula and you cough just as he slides out of your mouth and pumps himself into his fist. Watching his creamy cum dripping down the corner of his mouth intensifies his high, prompting him to burst onto your shoulder blades and over your wet breasts. He doesn’t wait for you to catch your breath before he pushes you down onto the tile, moving away the wet jeans to a corner before finding safety between your legs. His arms, on either side of your head, allows him to prop himself up to lead his tip towards your entrance.

He’d forgotten all about cleaning the blood on your neck when you’re spread for him, your hands cupping his face in admiration. Your eyes and nose are still puffy and red, but he knows the blush on your cheeks come from your need to have him deep inside until you can feel him against your cervix.

“I love you, noona. So, so much.”

You hiss slightly when he pushes inside, your snug velvet walls engulfing his cock and keeping him where he belongs. His body bows in servitude to the goddess that is you.

“I love you too,” you huff, brushing your fingers over his sculped cheekbones and mandible. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You let him take you there despite how painful it was to bear him pounding into your walls with the intent to ruin. You’re not sure how long you lay on the tile, how many times he came inside, how sore and painful your insides will be when he’s done. It was never-ending – how Jungkook muffles your wails and whines, how he pumps his cocks while pressing your shoulders down to bury himself deep, how exhausted you are by the time he’s pushing his cum back into your swollen hole. The last orgasm triggers tears to seep from the corner of his eyes which Jungkook kisses away as he reaches up to the shower cloth and waits for you to fall limp before running the soapy cloth along your body.

You’re freezing cold despite the hot water still coming down onto your boyfriend’s body and, from there, onto you. He’s quick to clean you up and wrap you in the same towel he had laid over you the first time you used his studio shower. You can barely move as he carries you to the bed and lays your damp body on the fresh linen. You can hear the sound of him ripping open a thin menstrual pad and placing it in a pair of fresh panties he fished from the shared armoire closet. He slips the panties up your legs, lifting your hips to pull the fabric over your buttocks, flashing his usual charming grin when you murmur a thank you.

He pulls the towel from your body and squeeze out as much water as he can from your long tresses, careful not to tug. It wasn’t ideal to him that you’ll be sleeping with wet hair but you’re beyond exhausted and, to be frank, he is as well. At least he’s heading to bed satiated.

Jungkook slides under the blankets and brings your body closer by your waist. He groans into your neck, his body immediately softening as the warmth of your skin and the blanket brings him the peace and comfort he craved.

“Kookie?”

“Hm?”

It takes a heartbeat for him to sense your sudden anxiety. “…I’m scared.”

“Why are you scared?” He manages to ask although sleep is weighing heavy on his eyelids.

“I don’t know.” You murmur.

Jungkook is too tired to remember if you said anything afterwards for he falls deep into slumber. As for you, your head won’t let you sleep despite your body pleading for rest. Every part of you can feel Yori’s heavy body in the freezer just several feet away. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to feel about tonight or if tonight should have happened in the first place but in Jungkook’s arms, you can’t find the smallest ounce of pity for the woman.

You close your eyes, snuggle closer into his firm chest, and try your best to pretend nothing will change. You try to forget the flash drive sitting in your bag, the possible evidence your mother may have left behind in the villa, the corpse in the garage. Most of all, you try to forget how Jungkook looked at the bottom of the staircase, slipping the corpse inside the black plastic trash bag with such ease that makes you wonder if he had done this before. He surely must have, that voice inside of your head says but you wave it away.

I don’t know.

You lied to him. For the first time in your relationship, you lied without guilt. You do know why you’re scared and it’s not because after tonight every knock on the door will cause your heart to pound.

No. It’s because you know your boyfriend – your sweet, loving boyfriend who cries watching romantic comedies on Sundays – is truly capable of murder.

[sofullofloveicould]

master list of all my 2022 microfics for microfic may!! 

day 1, ignite:

one moment of many:

his eyes are warm and soft, green as jewels and snakeskin and leaves. I am ignited with hope, leaking admissions from loosened lips. 

I love you

it burns me and it hurts me and not even for a second do I want to take it back

day 2, villainous

“How villainous”  Pansy’s head rests on my shoulders, and she turns to press a kiss on my neck. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” 

Harry and Draco haven’t emerged from the closet we locked them in; fifteen minutes now, and neither of them have alohamora’d their way out. 

day 3, heartbeat

After the full moon, Remus presses the sleeping marauders’ pulse points. Peter, James, Sirius-

He presses his fingers to Sirius’ wrist, combs his fingers through his hair, presses the faintest of kisses to his forehead. Their heartbeats are proof; they have not fallen prey to the monster beneath his skin.

day 4, solitude

The walls have eyes and ears now, his mother reminds him the first time the Dark Lord arrives to stay. You must not let him see weakness.

From the brand sitting heavily on his skin, they bore into his soul, ensuring he can never find solitude.

day 5, lost & found

Luna is missing her shoes.

She follows a trail of them; soft blue dress slippers followed by muggle sneakers and combat boots, stopping at the door of a classroom she’s never seen before. She steps inside. 

“You found me.” It’s Ginny; hair mussed and lips bitten. The door swings shut.

day 6, survive

“You don’t understand,” Draco kneels in front of him, crying. “I did what I had to survive.” 

Harry’s eyes are cold as he levels his wand with Draco’s face. “Such a shame that you did all that to die today.” 

There is a flash of green light, then nothing else

day 7, irresistible

“I don’t know why I love you,” Lily laments as she practically drags James back to the common room, covered in soot - evidence of the marauders’ most recent prank.

“How could you not?” James gestures to himself, hair poofed up and singed, eyebrows nearly burnt off. “I’m obviously irresistible.”

day 8, expectations

Marcus Flint didn’t measure up to his parents, this god-awful world’s, or anyone's expectations. He never would.

When he rested his head on Oliver Wood’s shoulder (of all people) and locked their lips together in a kiss, he decided that he should’ve never wanted to meet those expectations anyways.

day 9, ferocity

There is a ferocity in loving him, Gellert thought, tucked away in Albus’ bedroom, hiding from summer’s waning heat, lips locked in a kiss like forever, sweat and love and conquest. A love like ours will last forever.

day 10, black & white

 Justice was never black and white for Draco Malfoy. Or maybe it was - his dark mark a stark black against his pale skin. Maybe justice is green; looking Harry Potter in his eyes and lying, saying; “it’s not him”. Maybe justice's colors won’t matter when he’s dead.

day 11, balance

In Quidditch, there is a constant need for balance; there is no magic that can bring someone back from the dead. Sometimes Ginny flies up-up-up, until there’d be no saving her if she lost her balance and fell. She hasn’t yet, but she knows it’s only a matter of time.

day 12, radiant

She is radiant, Lavender thinks, watching Parvati and Harry dance. She can’t help but smile at Parvati’s bemused expression when Harry steps on her toes. 

She twirls to where Lavender is standing. 

“I hope you’re a better dancer than he was,” Parvati says, extending her hand. 

She takes it.

day 13, symphony

His laugh is a symphony, bright and heavy, flitting behind Draco’s heart.

There is a booming brass in his smile, wide and uncontrolled, and strings instruments in his eyes, soft and searching.

His heart beats wildly, a caged, frenzied animal in his chest, and love roars in his ears.

day 14, inquietude

Your mind is in a state of inquietude, Luna’s father had told her, on the ripe edge of summer when reality can be peeled away like the skin of a peach. My mind is the same, you know, I have never known reprieve, and I fear you may never either.

day 15, fire & ice

They are fire and ice, fall heat on soccer fields, and sweaty locker rooms.

They are Marcus and Oliver, sprained ankles and head wounds, pushing and shoving and lips running over bruises.

They are opposites, enemies, and something dirty and sacred, hidden in dim motel rooms and training camps.

day 16, remember

Do you remember? Gellert had whispered in his ear, wands to each other's throats, in the secret voice he’d used all those decades ago. Do you remember when we were going to change the world? Do you remember when you loved me?

day 17, decadent

Pansy licked her lips -“My god, Hermione, you are absolutely decadent” - before lowering her head again.

day 18, secrets

Draco has one secret from Harry, and it's the ring tucked in his shirt pocket, rubies, and emeralds, waiting to slip on his finger.

day 19, humbug

“Stop being such a humbug,” said Harry as he dangled the mistletoe above Draco’s head, “and kiss me already.”

day 20, sand & sea

The ocean air worms its way through Bill’s cottage’s windows, sand and sea, an existence set ahead for him, a seaside life with room enough for two.

day 21, promise

Promises, wrapped in bridal colors and said under sallow stars; I’ll stay here forever, and nothing can take us apart

day 22, invincible

“Oliver, you know you’re not invincible,” says Percy exasperatedly as he applies gauze to Oliver’s newest head wound, “so why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

day 23, progress

“You’ve been making incredible progress,” Draco’s ministry-required therapist tells him during one of their regular sessions, “I have just one more question for you; What is the nature of your relationship with Harry Potter?”

day 24, serenity

Ginny finds some kind of peace in Luna’s arms, breathing heavily in unison, the dreamy look in Luna’s eyes giving way to sleep. It is absolution, serenity, and early mornings, limbs on limbs, holding to another body as if to prove that they’re there.

day 25, pain & pleasure

Pain: tearing his way through bodies on the quidditch pitch, rain stinging his eyes and bludger-bruises forming on his face.

Pleasure: Oliver’s head between his thighs, their bodies pressed close, kisses that taste like sweat and passion and ecstasy.

day 26, wander

Charlie Weasley was born with wanderlust in his veins, and so he wanders. He finds dragons, looses love, and discovers that maybe he never needed it anyways.

day 27, hopeful

Hands interlaced under the stars, Harry’s lips look too kissable, a luscious pink against his carmel skin. His glasses are askew and his mouth is slightly open, making an ‘o’ at the sky. Draco is hopeful, and there are only a few inches separating their faces, so he closes them.

day 28, epilogue

hold me, you must tell him, kiss me, make me forget her.

he is only an epilouge to our love; only a blip.

it is a shame that we only shared one night; and he will share your bed forevermore.

day 29, saturninity

these are saturnine evenings; 

love lost and lust earned;

the hopeless feeling of loving wrong and falling hard;

thinking of blond hair and grey eyes blown wide;

pressed against the body of a woman you love no longer.

day 30, wax & wane

wax and wane with me, 

build a temple wherein our devotion can lie

and tear it down in secret

love me until there’s nothing left,

except the two of us,

we will change the world.

day 31, why?

i never asked you why

why love me, why hurt me, why leave me

why leave the knife and the pills on the counter

as if doubting my devotion

i will follow you anywhere, my little dragon

mega challenge

wax and wane, black and white, pain and pleasure, fire and ice, lost and found.

our love is villanous, inquiet, saturnine, secrets snagged behind your heartbeat

you are irresistible;  the decadence in your laugh, your hopeful ferocity.

i have a secret; i hated you once but it spoiled into love

ships listed in order of most occurrences

drarry (draco malfoy/harry potter) - 9

flintwood (oliver wood/marcus flint) - 3

grindeldore (albus dumbledore/gellert grindelwald) - 3

pansmione (hermione granger/pansy parkinson) - 2

linny (ginny weasley/luna lovegood) - 2

wolfstar (remus lupin/sirius black) - 1

jily (james potter/lily evans) - 1

parvender (lavender brown/parvati patil) - 1

bleur (bill weasley/fleur delacour) - 1

perciver (oliver wood/percy weasley) - 1

ginsy (ginny weasley/pansy parkinson) - 1

[365days365movies]

May 6, 2021: The Martian (2015) (Recap: Part One)

We’re leaving lo-fi sci-fi, people. Kind of.

I mentioned before that films like Her are what I define as “lo-fi sci-fi”, which is a category that I’ve kind of made up. Basically, it’s the science fiction version of low fantasy, meaning it contains science fiction themes contained within an otherwise contemporary setting. In the case of Her, Joaquin Phoenix’s character, along with many others, live in a world and setting basically like ours, but with technology advanced enough to generate AIs (like Siri) that are intelligent enough to actually ascend our reality. Because we live in a society.

You give me Joaquin Phoenix, I’m gonna make a Joker reference; it’s in the contract of my existence. Anyway, that is admittedly kind of broad, right? I mean, that has the capability of crossing over with a BUNCH of sci-fi genres and themes. And, considering that we’ve already seen magic, speculative technology, time travel, monsters, and artificial intelligence, we’ve already touched on quite a bit.

And with science fiction, the sky’s the limit. Literally. So, I think it behooves us to re-examine lo-fi sci-fi a little bit. Specifically, we should note that it can also be defined as an extension of currently existing technologies and possibilities. Writers would call this “speculative sci-fi”, assuming in this case that it’s set within the present or a near and attainable future. Her definitely fits in this category, as does Westworld. But, let’s crossover to another genre by speculating upon another possibility. And it begins with this man. Probably.

Hey, Elon, what’s up? Now, Mr. Musk here is a...controversial figure, for COMPLETELY understandable reasons. Instead of touch upon the man himself, I feel like touching upon one of his recent focuses: space travel. With SpaceX and the various upcoming space trips and journeys that they’re planning, Musk has made it clear that he plans to shoot to the Moon. Again, literally.

In fact, this full plan is to go even further than that, and to fuel potential commercial space flights in the future, which is admittedly very cool. And of course, if you’re going to shoot for the Moon...

Guys...guys, that’s Mars. THAT’S FUCKING MARS

Is that not amazing? We have sound and pictures from FUCKING MARS! THAT’S A DIFFERENT PLANET, GODDAMN IT! It’s cooler than I have the ability to properly express, but it IS goddamn cool. And this means that, easily within my lifetime, we could (and likely will) land on Mars. Which is amazing. God, I really want to see that happen.

And so, landing on Mars is BARELY science fiction, but since we haven’t yet done so...yeah, it’s fictional at the moment. And so, any film about landing on Mars falls within this category. Well...to an extent.

2000′s Mission to Mars, for example, was a Disney-funded film (to my IMMENSE surprise; and it’s based off of an old Disney World ride, WHAT), and a movie that I saw a LOT when I was a kid. I also barely remember it, to be honest. But that film is straight-up science fiction because of, well...aliens. The idea of Martians is, as far as we know it, fictional. And most fiction involving Mars includes these aliens somehow. Whether it’s DC Comics’ entire civilization of Martians, as seen in Justice League, Supergirl, or Young Justice...

...Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s heavily mythologized civilization, as seen in the Barsoom series of novels (and another Disney film)...

...Or one of the best Looney Tunes characters.

Mmm. Yes. Isn’t that lovely?

But, yeah, Mars and aliens go hand-in-hand in our media. So, to properly look at lo-fi science and speculative science fiction in relation to the Red Planet, we’ll need a movie that goes to the planet, and doesn’t touch upon the concept of aliens AT ALL.

Enter...Ridley Scott?

Yeah, the director of Legend, Alien, Thelma and Louise, Blade Runner, Gladiator. Also the director of Kingdom of Heaven, Prometheus, Exodus: Gods and Kings, and...ugh, 1492: Conquest of Paradise. I’ve talked about his mixed record before, in my Recap of Legend right here.

In 2014, he was brought on to adapt a book by Andy Weir called The Martian, which is a great book! I’ve listened to the audio book, and I whole-heartedly recommend doing that. And because of that, I am VERY MUCH looking forward to watching this film, especially seeing as it’s often called one of the best science fiction films made during that year, and was critically acclaimed then and now. It got seven Oscar nominations (although it won none of them), amongst other awards. So, enough navel-gazing, huh? The Martian!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

On Acidalia Plantitia, at the landing site of the Ares III mission, a group of scientists are gathering samples. These scientists are commander and geologist Melissa Lewis (Jessica Chastain), pilot Rick Martinez (Michael Pena), systems operator Beth Johanssen (Kate Mara), surgeon Chris Beck (Sebastian Stan), German chemist Alex Vogel (Aksel Hennie), and overly talkative botanist Mark Watney (Matt Damon). 

The group seems to have a good dynamic, but that dynamic is interrupted by a massive dust storm, which is large enough to cause the entire crew to evacuate. However, in the chaos of the dust storm, Mark is hit by debris and lost in the shuffle. Although Lewis goes back to find him, she can’t get to him before they need to leave, and Mark is believed dead. This is reported (pretty callously) by NASA Director Teddy Sanders (Jeff Daniels) to the press soon afterwards.

But of course, that wouldn’t be much of a movie, now would it? Mark’s alive! And Mark’s alone. With his suit damaged, and low on oxygen, he trudges back to headquarters, which is intact and still contains breathable oxygen. He gets inside, and realizes that he’s been stabbed in the abdomen by some debris. He removes it, and stitches up his own wound. Which is...god, it’s fucking BRUTAL just to think about, nevertheless watch.

Once he’s finished, he records a log for the future, if he doesn’t make it. It’s day 19 of the 31-day mission at this point, and Mark’s basically screwed. He needs lasting oxygen, water, and food, and he might need that for 4 years, when the next manned mission can come to the red planet. Additionally, he has absolutely no way to contact NASA, leaving him completely stranded. Another dust storm rolls in that night, and Mark looks over the belongings of his colleagues, packing them up for their eventual return. It’s somber, to say the least. However, Mark affirms that he’s determined not to die on the planet.

After doing the math, Mark should have enough food to last him for about 300 days, especially if he rations it. Until then, he’ll need to figure out how to grow his own food, on a planet where nothing grows. Which is, of course, going to be a difficult feat to accomplish. But Mark Watney’s a botanist with botany powers, and he’s gonna do it.

It’s day 31, and Mark’s brought in dirt from the outside, and uses the bio-waste from the crew’s stay there for a form of compost. After 5 days, mostly full of him watching Happy Days on TV and trying to farm, he realizes that he needs water, both for himself and for the soil. To do that, he goes chemical and decides to use hydrogen-laden rocket fuel, wood from Martinez’s belongings, and good old-fashioned fire to make water! And since hydrogen + oxygen = water, it should work. With a minor side-effect.

So, yeah, he blew himself up. As as he records a video log, the sound mixing makes itself impressively known by subtly and realistically generating a tinnitus sound. It’s VERY well-done, holy shit. Anyway, he makes a stable fire, and the place is soon covered in condensation, moistening the room and the soil successfully.

We get to day 54, and Mark’s planted leftover potatoes from the crew in order to grow them. And while he’s being mourned at a funeral on Earth, and in NASA, he’s seeing the fruits (or shoots) of his efforts.

Back on Earth, Mars Mission Director Vincent Kapoor (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is trying to convince Director Teddy to let him lobby for another Ares mission, despite the risk of bad press for the callousness of the proximity to Watney’s death. Meanwhile, satellite technician Mindy Park (Mackenzie Davis) looks down at the Ares III site, and realizes that the site has changed visually, meaning that Mark may actually be alive.

Shocked by this, she tells Kapoor, Teddy, and media director Annie Montrose (Kristen Wiig) about this, and they realize the absolute clusterfuck that this whole thing is. They can’t tell the other members of the Ares III crew about it, because it’d devastate them for the 10 months they have to get back to Earth, at the VERY least. They can’t tell the WORLD about this, because they just had a funeral for the guy, and they’d reveal that they left him stranded on Mars accidentally, destroying faith in the Mars Missions Program. And they can’t save Mark, who they’re sure will starve eventually. It’s a mess. And Kapoor also wonders what’s happening to Mark psychologically through all of this.

And yet, they reveal this to the world regardless, causing the clusterfuck reaction that they think it’s going to cause. But Mark’s busy on Mars, figuring out how to get to the site of the next Ares IV mission in 4 years, at the Schiaparelli crater about 50 days travel away. This is a struggle, as his Rover has only so much power and fuel, and he can only get more power by cutting out the heater is risking death by freezing. So, problems. However, he figures out a potential solution: radioactive isotopes! In a move that is, let’s face it, COMPLETELY INSANE, he digs up a radioactive generator from the ship in order to heat the ship.

On Earth, they try to figure out Mark’s moves, as well as how to resupply Ares IV sooner for Mark’s benefit. This is with the director of JPL, Bruce Ng (Benedict Wong), and the flight director of the ship Hermes, Mitch Henderson (Sean Bean), who insists that they tell the Ares II crew. They continue to monitor Mark, and note that he’s been travelling for 17 days in his Rover towards something. Kapoor figures it out, and flies to California.

See, Mark needs a way to contact NASA, and he believes that the way to do so is through Pathfinder, the first probe ever sent to Mars in 1997, lasting for 9 months since landing until they lost contact. Mark digs it up, and the people at JPL in California start their own efforts for contact. And despite communication being extremely rudimentary, initially limited to yes/no questions that use a still-frame camera, it fucking WORKS! WHOO!

To boost this communication hurdle, the two camps figure out a hexadecimal system for communication, allowing them to communicate using a circular table of numbers that represent an alphabet. That allows them to teach Mark to hack into the Rover, allowing it to piggyback off of its broadcast signal and send them messages via keyboard. Nice! Now that communication is reasonably possible, Mark’s able to ask how the crew is handling his death. But upon learning that they haven’t told him. He’s understandably a little goddamn enraged. And so, they FINALLY tell the Ares III crew about this.

The news breaks the crew, even though Mark continues to stress that he’s all right, and that it wasn’t their fault. Meanwhile, Mark’s able to survive for 912 days with his potato plants, and things improve with the help of technicians on Earth. They plan to launch a supply rocket to him in the next year, and things are looking fine! Unless, of course...something goes horribly HORRIBLY wrong.

Well...fuck. Good place to pause for Part Two, then?

[todaydreambelieversfic]

Author Spotlight: Coffeegleek Day 1

Author : @coffeegleek​ 

How did you get into Glee and Glee fandom?

I saw the premier when it aired during the summer and was hooked. Having been burned by a fandom shortly before that, I tried to resist joining Glee fandom. Then about halfway through Glee airing routinely, I could resist no longer. I needed more. I needed the interaction with other fans that weren't immediate family. (Hub and son love the show, but were watchers and not into fandom.)

In general, what drew you into writing (and/or creating)?

I'd written for other fandoms before as well as a lot of original poetry and science fiction. One day I finally caved and co-wrote two crack Klaine fics. About a year or two later, I wrote more crack fics that got no traction on tumblr so I stopped writing for a long time. (I was and still am a small fish in a large fandom pond, though that pond has shrunk now that the show is long over.) Then a couple of years ago, my son left for university and I couldn't shake this one small fic idea I had about Burt and Carole as empty nesters. I had to get it out and it exploded into this huge verse. In-between those fics I wrote more crack fics.

What was it about Glee that made you decide to write fanfic for it?

Part of it was Kurt and Blaine being wonderful characters. Part of it was the joy of challenging myself as a writer be it serious stuff or Klaine advent challenges which are fun. Yet another part was to write fics I wanted to read or tropes I wanted to explore more.

Have you been a part of other fandoms before? Have you written fanfiction pre-glee?

Oh, yes! Many fandoms and many fics on many accounts I've long lost user names and passwords to. Out there on FFN is a Buffy/Farscape crossover and a couple of Pretender fanfics. Those are just three of the many fandoms I've been in. I met my spouse through Star Trek fandom and was involved in (and left) the very toxic Fox fandom board for the Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles fandom. (My fandom before Glee.)

Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

AU is my crack and I love political Klaine be it Kurt and/or Blaine in politics or as President. I love the ones where Burt is president. Despite being a huge West Wing fan who's rewatched the series multiple times, I don't think I could do a Glee characters in that verse justice. I really wish I could though. Before the pandemic hit, a friend and I were going to do a Blast from the Past movie challenge where folks would write their favorite 1980's and 90's movies with Glee characters. I was all set to write Running on Empty and still have my notes for it.

Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

A few. Certain kinks and especially those that involve fluids, marking, and mpreg. 

Another nope - Large age differences in a consenting relationship. To clarify with a personal experience of why it’s a huge no: There was a guy in my family’s social group who was in his late 60’s/early 70’s who would brag to hub and I (for some reason) about his conquestions with barely legal guys. The things he would say about even younger guys were creepy AF. My out gay son was nearing his preferred age and we (and son) kept Creepy Guy far away from him. No one believed us when we tried to tell them about him. So any kind of huge age gap is a big nope for me unless it’s written as a “this is wrong and not appropriate” because I can’t help but think of the guy everyone else had labeled as But He’s Such a Nice Guy. I’m not criticizing the authors or readers of consensual, everything is happy, large age gap fics. They’re just not for me and I accept my bias. 

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

I want to finish writing/expanding a fic for my Empty Nest verse that takes place between A Nest of Scars and Empty Nest. I also have a few one shots between Kurt and Carole and Kurt and Burt that I keep writing in my head while cooking, but never getting them onto a google doc. I want to finish last year's Klaine Advent challenge fic entitled, A Very Weird Christmas Adventure. I was so close to being done and had it all figured out too. I'd also like to write the Running on Empty crossover fic. I love that movie so much. I'd love to tackle a Handmaid's Tale crossover, but haven't worked out enough of the logistics for it.

***

Check out Coffeegleek’s Fics

Empty Nest - Revised - Empty Nest started off as just this little thing I was going to write. The idea had been kicking around in my head for a year. There's a stray cat that's taken shelter under our front porch for years & runs whenever he sees us. When my son went off to university, I started thinking about what if the cat was really homeless, hybrid Kurt? And in October of 2017, I finally started to write what was going to be a ficlette & nothing more. It's now late January 2018 & the verse has grown to two fics, a series of Klaine Advent one shots, 98,442 words, & is still going.

When I reached chapter 12 of Rebuilding the Nest, I felt the time had finally come for me to revise the verse, especially Empty Nest, correct any errors I'd missed before, & clean up the time line inconsistencies. When I first started writing, I had no clear cut idea of how hybrids had come about or what they were like. I was just going with the usual trope flow. As chapters went on, I fell more & more back on my science fiction writing roots & established them as a single evolved race. That was my biggest change to Empty Nest & reason for the revision.

I hope you enjoy it.

Rebuilding the Nest -  Sequel to Empty Nest and takes place immediately after. Kurt is a runaway, homeless feline hybrid. Burt and Carole are empty nesters who see him sleeping under their porch. During the months that follow, Kurt slowly learns to trust them. Unlocking the door to the Hummel's enclosed back porch was a huge step. There were so many more left to go.

Burt's Nest -  This is a retelling of Empty Nest and Rebuilding the Nest from Burt’s POV. While it does stand alone, in order to fully understand Kurt’s actions and experiences, the original fics should be read first. In short: Burt discovers a homeless hybrid teenager sleeping under his front porch and takes him in. This fic let me get out all my parenting and love of Burt and Carole feels. If you notice a blatant take on the racism and homophobia pervading the U.S. in this dystopian verse, then I’ve done my job expressing part of the bag of emotions I feel as the parent of gay, POC, young adult son. The same trigger warnings for the previous fics apply here as well, though not all chapters have them. Please see the tags.

[storiesforallfandoms]

midnight drive ~ roman godfrey

part one

word count: 1345

request?: no

description: you get to know the bad boy of hemlock grove on your midnight drive, and you come to learn that you should never judge a person by the rumors people spread about them

pairing: roman godfrey x female!reader

warnings: swearing

It was a beautifully warm night out. You were extremely grateful that Roman decided to leave the top down on his convertible car. The wind was a welcome feeling after how stuffy you felt at the party, even when you had been outside.

You turned to look at Roman. His eyes were focused on the road. You had a million questions running through your head, but all of them washed away when his bright blue eyes turned to look at you. Suddenly, it felt like the wind ceased and the breath was taken right from your lungs. Your heart was racing and you tried to look away but he had you captivated with those eyes.

“You should watch the road pretty boy,” you finally managed to say, earning you a smile from Roman. “So, where are we going exactly?”

“Don’t know,” Roman shrugged. “Just away from that party. I couldn’t stand to be there another minute, and I arrived literally right before I found you.”

“I thought you loved parties,” you said. “That’s what everyone at school says.”

“I’ve never even been to a single party anyone has thrown,” Roman responded. “I’ve been forced to go to Godfrey Industries related gatherings, and I love to drink and smoke weed every now and then, but I’ve never been to a stupid popular kid’s party, nor do I ever plan to go to another one. I only went to this one because everyone else was going. Good thing I did, too.”

You sighed and shuffled uncomfortably thinking about the unwanted memory. You looked down at your phone to see you had multiple messages from (Y/F/N). You had told her you were going on the drive with Roman and explained what had happened at the party with Mark and his asshole friends. She sent back a million messages, asking you if you were okay and where you were and “wtf THE Roman Godfrey?!” and “do you want me to kick their asses? I’ll gladly kick their asses”.

“We may need to double back to the party,” you said. “(Y/F/N) is ready to beat Mark’s ass, and she definitely could, she knows martial arts.”

“(Y/F/N)?” Roman asked. “That’s who you went to the party with?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Why?”

“Nothing I just...thought you were there with a date or something.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Me? With a date? It’d have to be an alien from another planet because nobody would date me, especially not in our school or our grade.”

Roman was silent. He didn’t look at you, instead focused on the road yet again. You sighed and rested your head on your hand and looked at everything passing you by. Despite the strangeness of the situation, you were grateful for this car ride. You didn't want to be at the party in the first place, you mainly went for the same reason that Roman had gone. Any opportunity to leave you were willing to take it.

The car started to slow down before it came to a stop. You looked out to see that Roman had parked at a high peak that looked out over Hemlock Grove.

“Wow,” you breathed. “This is beautiful.”

“It’s my favourite place to come and be alone,” Roman admitted. “I didn’t mean to come here, I guess I just did it without thinking.”

You climb out of Roman’s car and go to sit on the hood, getting a better view that isn’t obscured by the windshield. Roman got out to come join you, sitting beside you. You were so close that you were almost touching. Your heart raced and you tested Roman’s limits by closing what little space there was between you two, brushing your shoulder against his. If he had a problem with it, he didn’t say anything.

“I wonder what kind of bullshit Mark is spewing back at the party,” you find yourself saying. “Probably gonna tell everyone that you broke in mid-fuck and beat the shit out of him then took me away. He’ll probably call me a whore, tell all his jock buddies how easy I am. I’ll suddenly be everyone’s next conquest.”

“Why do you care so much?” Roman asked. “When you’re at school, you’re this I don’t care what anyone thinks, I don’t care about my reputation, I don’t care about popularity. But you’re here telling me about how no one wants to date you and you’re worried about what Mark will say about what happened back at the party.”

You look down at your hands and realize they’ve began to shake. You take a deep breath and admit, “I don’t care about what anyone thinks of me, but I do care if a bunch of hormonal teenage guys think that I’m easy and that they can get with me...especially after their ring leader tried to force himself on to me.”

Roman looked at you for a long time. He opened his mouth as if he were going to speak, but you quickly cut him off, not wanting to hear his pity.

“And as for the dating thing,” you continue, “I’m a fucking teenage girl, Roman! I’ve never been on a date, I’ve never had a boyfriend, I’m still a virgin. Fuck, I haven’t even been kissed! At some point I’d like to experience what it’s like to be in a relationship, you know?”

There was a long stretch of silence between you as you let the words linger in the air. It wasn’t something you had ever admitted before. You were more than happy with everyone thinking that you could give less of a shit about relationships and reputations and all that high school bullshit, but deep down inside you knew that one day you hoped to find someone who saw you as an actual person, not as just another loser.

Roman leaned towards you a little bit. You turned to look at him, confused, and as you did he took it as his opportunity to attach his lips to yours. You were stunned at first and raised a hand to push him away, but stopped for a moment to let yourself realize that Roman Godfrey himself was actually...kissing you. You suddenly understood why all the girls in school were so captivated by him. He was so handsome, nice enough when he wanted to be, and he was honestly an amazing kisser. Not that you had much to go by, but your head felt like it was spinning when he pulled away so you figured that was a good sign.

“There,” he said. “Now you’ve been kissed. The next course of action is to take you on your first date.”

“Hold on there,” you cut him off. “Roman Godfrey wants to go on a date? The biggest fuckboy in all of Hemlock Grove High? You realize that if we go on a date you’re not allowed to flirt with some other girl, right? You especially can’t go home with another girl.”

“I’m not as bad as everyone makes me seem, you know,” Roman told you. “I know this is going to be a big shocker, but I’ve never been in a relationship either, but I’ve always wanted something serious. I just stopped trying years ago when I found out most girls were only using me because of my name. But...you’re different. You’ve never tried to get with me, you’ve never even really shown an interest in me at all. It’s...kind of hot really.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you looked down at your lap.

“So, what do you say? Wanna go on a date?” Roman asked. When you looked back up, he was looking at you expectantly. You could tell he meant this, it wasn’t just another ploy to try and get in your pants.

“Okay,” you said with a shrug, trying to seem casual about it. “Let’s try it.”

Roman chuckled. “Try to hold back your enthusiasm.”

You rolled your eyes, but on the inside, you were freaking out with excitement.

[kpopchangedme]

You agreed to meet Jinyoung for a coffee date, what could go wrong? Surely you are not going to run into Im Jaebum on the way there… Right?

Starboy-Masterlist || M A S T E R L I ST

Protagonists: Baseball player Im Jaebum / You / Dr. Park Jinyoung

Word Count: 2.2k

Genre: SFW | University | Baseball | Romance | *Socially offensive language* – Mini-Series

Lysandre’s note: Repost because I wanted this chapter on my main ;)

Staring at your reflexion, you barely have time to avoid the pair of rolled up socks Makayla throws at your head. She boos, sitting on the small bed of your dorm bedroom with her arms crossed, clearly disapproving your choice of outfit.

“At least show some cleavage. Let the poor shaman have hope!” Laughing, you pull your black sweater over your head to change into something more appealing under her expert gaze. “I thought you hated dating by the way…”

“He’s still a doctor, not a shaman! And I do hate dates... And I totally told him that...” Although, you didn’t exactly mention to Jinyoung about your last messy breakup. You choose a cute embroidered raspberry blouse, slipping it on and showing it off. “He said that if we met by ‘coincidence’ in a coffee shop it wouldn’t be what he’d call a date –” Makayla frowns, skeptical. “– but fate.”

“Ugh. Are you kidding me?” You laugh at her cringe, deciding her lack of comment meant she approved of the blouse. “Did he actually say it aloud or texted you that corny crap, what century are we–”

“Aloud.”

“Well, fuck me.” She finds her phone in the sheets of your unmade bed to tap at the screen, angrily. “And I can’t even get a text back!”

“Sungjin would text you back...” You pull your tongue at her, siding with your classmate for his desperate crush on that hopeless girl. “He’s a decent guy, it’d changed you from those football players.”

“Joke’s on you, my last victim is a golfer! I don’t know y/n… I kinda live for the thrill of being left on read.” At that, you can only shake your head in disbelief.

She might like to tease your dating phobic ways, but she’s as bad as you when it comes to commitment. While you usually avoid guys altogether, Makayla always seems to only get involved with the ones she knows will never be interested.

“You should wear that with your pale jeans, your ass looks fantastic in those!”

“Ooh, great idea, thanks!”

“Also, please put on lingerie!”

“Tst – This is a coffee non-date! I won’t jump him or any–”

“Hot guys can sense that shit.” You hesitate, pouting as Makayla wiggles her brow suggestively. “What if he drops his coffee on you and gets scared when he sees that horrible skin-coloured monstrosity through your soaked clothes?” Makayla rolls to the side to grab a lace bralette on your headboard and throws it at you. “Wear that, he’ll love it! That one screams ‘Please doctor, pour hot liquid on me!’.”

You study the pink floral lace between your fingers, feeling heat rush to your face as you remember the last time you wore it. You can still recall the feel of Jaebum’s hands; his fingers sliding the straps off your shoulders, his lips sucking your nipples through the thin lace...

“Yeah – Um, I think I’ll just go with the ‘monstrosity’ for today, it’s the only one that doesn’t show through the fabric.”

What’s with you, thinking of that stupid pitcher like that? You’re about to go on a date with a handsome med Resident. Somewhere on the floor, your phone dings from under a pile of rejected outfits. You hurry to fish it to look at the text, anxious.

Park Jinyoung: I’m going to be getting coffee at a very random coffee shop (the one on the corner of Wall & College) in about 15 minutes… [18:44PM]

You smile dumbly reading it just as another one comes in.

Park Jinyoung: (Not that I would ever expect to see you there... This isn’t a date or anything!) [18:44PM]

“Oh my god. You’re smiling at your damn phone y/n! Just leave already, before I kill myself!”

___

10 minutes later and you’re standing in front of the coffee shop, too nervous to move. It’s been a while since you dated – not that this could be considered a real date – almost two years. You run a hand on your blouse, smoothing imaginary wrinkles. Unfortunately, it’s when you finally decide to enter the coffee that he, exits it.

And Jaebum isn’t alone, he’s with another one of his teammates, one you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet. When he sees you, there’s a flicker of dread in his eyes, but in a second, he’s back to his usual composure. Which is horribly unfortunate, because now he’s walking straight at you and you have virtually nowhere to hide.

“Hey y/n”, he smiles sheepishly, disregarding the fact that you were evidently trying to walk by without greeting him.

“Hey.”

“Hi”, the player you don’t know nudges his friend with his elbow. He’s a bit shorter and very very handsome. Although, beautiful would probably be a more appropriate choice of word. “I’m Mark,” his smile is so white and wide it almost blinds you.  “And you are... Y/n...”

“Yes… That’s me…” You deadpan reddening, and Jaebum wiggles from one foot to the other. Now you’re unhealthily curious about what is said of you in their locker room, you bite your lips.

“Y/n”, Mark repeats as if you needed to be reminded. Does the baseball team have a secret black book with conquests names, or what? Clearly, that guy is in the known somehow. Tilting his head towards Jaebum, he adds: “The Creative Writing girl...” Mark giggles, the sound surprisingly irritating and you stare at him, shocked.

Creative Writing; a class you took to force yourself out of your comfort zone after your break up forever ago. You didn’t socialize, so it’d be surprising that guy remembered you at all – if you truly were in his class.

Mark turns to the pitcher, poking him with his elbow again. “I wasn’t aware you guys knew each oth–”

“I really wanted to tell you, about that night at the club,” Jaebum ignores him, keeping his baffling coolness despite the obvious teasing. “I’m so sorry, I was horrible. I’m a jerk and I wanted to apologize ever since, but I don’t have any way of contacting you or–”

“It’s okay Jaebum, it’s in the past – I don’t care – So don’t feel bad about it, these things happen. We were both drunk.” You clench your teeth, forcing a polite smile. If he truly felt like apologizing, he knew you worked at the clinic, he knew where to find you. It took you three weeks to digest his outburst, but you’ll stick by your not caring resolution. Even if in the end it truly makes you a bitch.

“The club…” Mark looks confused, gaze darting between you two until something seems to connect in his mind. “Oh, the club! Y/n!”

“Right, we’re fine then”, Jaebum’s sly smile falls and he brings his left hand up to scratch his neck, uncomfortable. Despite yourself, you note that he still seems able to move his arm and bend his elbow easily – not that you’d care. “Thank you... For forgiving me, it’s a relief.”  

“It’s nothing!” You take a step in the direction of the coffee shop, but Jaebum moves aside at the same time, blocking your way. “I a-actually need to go.”

“Yeah, sorry”, he avoids your gaze, inadvertently moving at the same time as you again.

“Our campus is so small”, his friend Mark makes the same high pitch giggle sound again, causing you to turn to stare. “The girl from Creative Class is… Y/n.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, surprised he seems so entertained by all this. “I took that class forever ago and I–”

“One year”, he grins, overly confident, “with Mr. Yachnin, you sat next to us for the whole trimester.”

“You were in that class too?” You frown at Jaebum with skepticism. You’re pretty sure you’d remember if a guy looking like him sat next to you.

“I… guess so...” He shrugs, exchanging a look with his friend. “Anyway, sorry again, have a great day!” Finally stepping away from your path with success, Jaebum pushes Mark forward, forcing him to walk.

“Bye, y/n the Creative Writing girl. I hope to see you around a lot more!” The other player laughs again, obeying his teammate reluctantly. “Come see us play Saturday!”

AH! As if.

You wave back at him, frowning. It’s so weird to think you shared a class with them without knowing. Of all the classes related to sports you took over the course of your studies, you had a random art class together. Surely that’s why Jaebum said he thought you were in the Art Dep the first time you met. It makes a lot more sense now, but he’d have to have recognized you. Again, he was right that night when he said you knew nothing about him. You don’t even know what he’s studying, you just assumed it had to do with sports since most athletes are in Physical Ed.

You’re almost pushing the door of the coffee shop when you decide to do something completely useless. Jaebum and Mark have stopped walking and are now absorbed in a heated discussion, several meters away.

“HEY, I almost forgot!”, they both twitch when you yell, although you only keep your eyes on the tallest one. “Im Jaebum!” He opens his mouth perplexed, and you laugh, entertained by his confusion.

“I do know your last name, Starboy!”

Without waiting any longer, you push the door of the coffee shop, leaving the two confused baseball players behind. Jinyoung instantly stands up and waves when you walk in, looking so handsome you stop in your tracks. Your wide smile, a remnant of your amusement freezes a bit, turning to an awkward grin. You can do this. This is just a coffee break and Jinyoung seems like an amazing guy.

You can totally nail this non-date.

“Hi y/n,” The young doctor tilts his head to the side, smirking as you walk up to him, “fancy running into you here.”

“Hi,” you giggle, sounding like the stupidest girl in the whole world, but he doesn’t seem to mind, gazing at you warmly. This time, you don’t feel as intimidated as he takes you in. Your makeup and hair are on point, clothes evidently carefully selected for this very moment. You are okay, you are in control of your variables, or so you repeat to yourself mentally like a mantra.

“Wow, you’re gorgeous.” Jinyoung sighs, slightly dazed, as though influenced by your thoughts.

“T-Thanks,” His eyes crinkle as he flashes his perfect teeth, watching you get shy, “you too.”

His compliment sounded sincere whilst yours is half-mumbled, unable to do him any justice. He’s even more handsome than the first time you met him. Today he ditched the dress shirt in favour of a casual white tee, dangerously tight on his chest, and pale jeans. He also came without his glasses and, although he still looked godlike with them, it seems to make his eyes pop-out even more. You struggle to hold eye contact, too flustered, hopefully, you won’t be awkward for the whole date. You want to feel less anxious, be more comfortable, but don’t know how. It’s been too long. Jinyoung doesn’t even seem to notice how out of it you are when he puts his hand in the middle of your shoulder blades. He barely touches you to guide you to the lineup in front of the register, but it still makes you mentally freak out.

“Since we’re both here at the same time, only by pure chance. I think we should grab a cup of coffee together, y/n. Surely it’s a sign.”

“Oh, a sign?” You laugh stiffly at his joke, nervousness perceivable. “Right, what were the odds of us meeting here, today, at 7pm? It’s not like we planned this.”

“Well, I like to make my own odds.” Jinyoung nods, eyes anchoring themselves in yours with all the confidence in the world. At the moment, you can tell he’s not the type to ever have been hurt or rejected by a girl. How could one say no to such a guy anyway? “My father always says we should never play the waiting game and should strike while the bat is hot.”

“The iron?” You snort, reassured a bit by his easygoing playfulness. It’s true that Jinyoung was nothing but smooth and funny on your first encounter. You have no valid reason to feel so stressed when he’s obviously trying to make light conversation. “Your father sure sounds like a wise man.”

“Not at all.” Jinyoung chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “I probably shouldn’t listen to what he says, he’s both awful at relationships and idioms.”

“I see.” His palm is warming your back, and you lean closer to his shoulder, unthinkingly.

“Either way, date or not,” Jinyoung talks softly this time, for only you to hear in the crowded coffee shop, “I’m glad you said yes, happy that you’re here with me now.”

Your heart skips a beat at his confession, but the doctor just smiles, turning to the lineup in front of you as if it was the most natural thing to say. Unbeknown to him, you stare at his profile in awe, finally allowing yourself to be happy you came too and starting to relax.

Starboy-Masterlist  ||  M A S T E R L I ST

[stellecraftwrites]

Undercover Consequences

Cody watched as Rex and Fox played holo-chess. Both vode were helpless at it but it was something to do that wasn’t talking about the war. It was rare that the 501st and the 212th were on Coruscant at the same time. Cody half suspected that Fox might have something to do with. The Coruscant Guard had specifically requested Generals Skywalker and Kenobi to help them on a mission in the coming week and the two Generals had arrived early to give their men some time off. Cody regretted telling Fox about the relationship he and Rex had with General Kenobi, Obi-Wan.  Cody tried not to smile at the thought of the man.

“No fair you cheated.” Cody drew his attention back to the game to see Fox pushing himself up to a standing position.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been so focused on your latest conquest and instead paid attention to the game. I did notice your suspicious absence from the officer barracks last night. Tell me was it a vod or some girl you picked up in the bar?” Rex was pressing himself up as well. Cody rested a hand on Rex’s shoulder and the man quieted. Fox was tugging at the collar of his blacks slightly. Cody could see the bite mark shaped bruises hiding just under the collar.

“Had a dance with Wolffe and the 104th did we Fox?” Cody knew those marks. He had a fair share of them in the past when he and Wolffe had a benefits arrangement going on. Wolffe and his entire group of degenerates had a thing about biting. Cody hadn’t minded, and he suspected Fox hadn’t either.

“And if I did?”

“I just didn’t take you to be that kinky. The wolf pack doesn’t do individual encounters.” Rex chuckled slightly.

“Have I told you about that time Fox and I worked our way through two entire squads at the same time back on Kamino? He’s as kinky as them come.” Rex had known Fox before he had met Cody. Occasionally they still hooked up mostly as stress relief when Cody and Obi-Wan were off planet. Cody settled back on the couch, smiling slightly as Rex and Fox bantered about their conquests back in the day. When the official comm on Fox’s desk flashed he excused himself to deal with it. Rex sauntered over and settled on Cody’s lap.

“What do you say we defile this couch while Fox deals with official business.” Cody wormed his hands down the back of Rex’s blacks, squeezing the firm ass he found there.

“He’d probably ask to join us if he comes back in before we finished. He’s like that.”

“Or we could put on a show for him riduur.” Cody pulled Rex into a kiss as the door to Fox’s study swooshed open. Cody pulled away when he saw the look of panic that was on Fox’s face. Rex twisted to see what had made Cody stop and slid himself off Cody’s lap.

“Fox…”

“There’s been an accident.” Fox settled his face into a more neutral expression but they both could still see the panic under his face. He seemed to be composing his thoughts and opened his mouth a few times before he snapped it closed.

“Fox out with it.” Cody’s hands were fisted into balls. Rex looked about ready to jump into full armor and run out to try to help.

“Commander, Captain… I regret to inform you that General Kenobi has been shot. My officers who reported to the scene tell me he was out on a walk with Commander Tano and General Skywalker when they encountered a sniper. General Skywalker and Commander Tano made it out without a scratch.”

“Where is he Fox? Did they take him to the halls?” Cody stood up and rested a hand on Rex’s shoulder. Fox would have led with that if something wasn’t horribly wrong. Fox took a moment to collect himself before he shook his head.

“He was pronounced dead at the scene. My officers told me he had passed before they had arrived.”

“No…” Rex’s knees buckled, and Cody reached out to catch him. He was in a haze as he supported Rex.

“Fox the sniper…”

“He got away. General Skywalker tried to follow him while Commander Tano stayed behind to tend to General Kenobi.” Rex made a slight hiccupping noise and slipped from Cody’s grasp as Cody’s hands went loose. The man who had killed Obi-Wan had gotten away. He didn’t even hear the condolences Fox was offering them nor did he notice when they were bundled into a speeder by Fox and his men and brought back to their barracks. It was Fox’s men who saw them to their room while Fox explained what happened to their men.

  Cody stalked after General Skywalker. They hadn’t been invited to the entombment ceremony but that hadn’t stopped him from lurking outside the temple until General Skywalker exited followed by Ahsoka. The 212th had been put on indefinite leave while they waited for a new general to take command.

Rex hadn’t taken the news well. He was currently in the barracks under the care of Kix and Helix. The 501st was rallying around their commander and their vod in the 212th. It was no secret among the troopers how much Rex and Cody had cared about their fallen general. Rex hadn’t spoken since Fox had given them the news.

“General Skywalker…” General Skywalker spun around, and Cody stopped short to avoid running into the other man. Ahsoka stopped slightly to the side.

“What do you want CC-2224?” Cody grimaced at his number and stood at attention before the General, staring him down.

“You’re going after Roko Hardeen aren’t you? I want in.”

“You are on leave Commander.”

“Sir, General Kenobi, Obi-Wan was important to me. I was to see his killer taken down as much as you do.”

“We aren’t going to kill him.” Cody noticed General Skywalker’s clenched fist. “No, they want us to take him alive.” Cody could practically feel the hatred rolling off the words.

“Then Sir I should come with you.”

“The Coruscant guard should be up to the task. Commander Fox is coming with us personally.” With that General Skywalker turned around and stalked off. A hand on his arm stopped Cody from following him.

“Cody we’ll get him I promise. He’ll be locked up for what he did to Obi-Wan.” Cody shook off Ahsoka’s hand and stomped off in the direction of 79’s. Wolffe’s pack should be there enjoying their shore leave. Wolffe would know what to do. Wolffe would take care of him.

  Rex felt hopeless. Cody had run off a few weeks previously. He wasn’t AWOL, the 212th and the 501st had their down time extended indefinitely while the Jedi Council figured out what to do about Obi-Wan’s death. Members of the 212th and the 501st had taken turns sitting with Rex. Some had gone to 79’s to keep an eye on Cody and had returned with the news that the 104th had taken Cody in. Kix, Helix, and the 104th medic Paws had taken turns checking on Cody while he was there. Rex couldn’t bring himself to leave the barracks just yet.

A noise in the main room of the barracks made him stir from his position against Fives, Echo, and Tup. There was shouting and the sound of wood splintering. It was Loudmouth who ran in looking like he had seen a ghost.

“Sir there’s a situation that requires your attention.” When Fives stood up Loudmouth shook his head. “Fives I know you’re acting captain while Rex is indisposed but this is really a thing he needs to deal with.”

“He’s in no condition to.” Fives moved in front of his Captain and went to open the door to the small room. He didn’t even make it before the door was kicked open. Helix stood there with murder in his eyes. Everyone focused on the figure he was holding by his ear. Obi-Wan’s face was sheepish and he didn’t fight the hold Helix had on him.

  Cody woke up to Wolffe shaking him. He glared up at the man. His body was sore in the best way. He had let the Wolf Pack thoroughly use him the last few weeks. He had stayed at the 79’s with the pack after that first night. Rex had been to hard to bear. He had been completely broken by the death of Obi-Wan. Helix had checked in on him a few times and consulted with Paws about the best care for their wayward commander, but they had ultimately decided just to let Cody grieve in his own way. Paws had kept a close eye on Cody during the time he had spent with the pack.

“Going to fuck me again Wolffe. I think there are a few spots of skin that you and your pack haven’t bruised up.”

“Kote…” Cody tried to ignore the Madalorian version of his name. Wolffe and his men had taken to calling him that version of his name in an attempt to comfort him. He didn’t deserve a name after he let his General die. Part of him, the rational part, reminded him that he couldn’t be everywhere with his General and that Coruscant was supposedly safe. He had screamed at Fox about that a few nights ago when the man had come by to check on him. Cody rolled over and presented his ass to Wolffe, spreading his cheeks wide so that Wolffe could get a look at his well used hole.

“Come one Wolffe you know you want to.” Instead a blanket was draped over his body. Wolffe’s hands pulled him upright and settled him on the couch next to where he’d been lying.

“Kote he’s alive. They faked his death to put him undercover. Roko Hardeen, the one they arrested, he was General Kenobi in disguise.” Cody tried to push Wolffe away, but the other man held him firm. Cody fought the hands that pulled him up and into a tight hug. “He’s alive Kot’ika.” Cody let out a sob. He felt Wolffe nod slightly and felt the sharp sting of needle in his neck. Wolffe held him the entire time he was fighting the drug. A second needle stung his neck and the world went hazy.

“I didn’t expect him to need two doses.”

“He’s been running on adrenaline and endorphins for the last few weeks.” Wolffe’s voice was quiet in his ear. “Will you get him back to the 212th Kix?”

“Of course.”

  Obi-Wan watched from his position on the bed where he was holding a sleeping Rex as Kix and a squad of The Coruscant guard guided the hover stretcher in from the main barracks. Cody was on the stretcher’s platform, tied down and looking like he had been chewed and spat out. His neck was covered in bruises and the wrists were marked with finger lengths.

“Do I want to know where you found him?” Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet so as not to wake the sleeping man in his lap. Kix gestured for the guard to be dismissed. They walked back in through the main barracks trading hand clasps and slaps on the shoulders with clones. Fox stood by the main door looking as pissed of as he had been when Obi-Wan had first walked into his office that morning. His body language told Obi-Wan that they were going to have some serious discussions about using the guard when he finally untangled himself from Cody and Rex.

“79’s Sir. He’s spent the last few weeks with the wolf pack.”

“That would explain the bruising. I know of that group’s proclivities, but I never thought I’d see them first hand or to this extent.”

“If I may Sir. I think Cody went to them because of their proclivities. I know of a few times Cody’s gone to them and Rex has gone as well Sir.”

“When they lose troopers. I know Kix.” He shifted slightly so he could move Rex off his lap. He helped Kix gently unload Cody using the force and settle him next to Rex. Getting up he headed to the door of the small room. Helix blocked his path.

“Sir.”

“I have to report to the Jedi council. I went straight to Fox when I got off the transport.”

“And if they wake up while you’re gone?” Obi-Wan glanced at the two figures in the bed. Taking off his cloak he draped it over them.

“Then I will reach out and reassure them. Even the forceless can feel the force when it is directed at them. They will know I am alive and well.”

  Rex woke to the weight of an arm around him. Obi-Wan’s scent was all around them, not stale like it had been for two weeks. Behind him he could feel Cody stirring. Gently he dislodged himself from the other man and sat up expecting to see their Jedi deep in meditation in a corner. When a first scan of the room didn’t show anything he looked again. Nothing besides the cloak draped over them showed that the General was anything but a figment of their imagination.

Rex felt a warm hand settle on his shoulder. When he looked nothing was there. There was a brief moment of fingers brushing through the hair he had let grow in the weeks of Obi-Wan’s absence before the hand cupped his cheek. The thumb stroked his cheek like Obi-Wan would do when nobody was looking. He leaned into the hand with a small smile.

“Rest my love.” Obi-Wan’s voice echoed soothingly in his head. “I had hoped to be back before you and Cody woke. I had to report to the Jedi Council about the mission.” Rex nodded slightly and looked back at Cody. He looked exhausted. He remembered after the initial shock of Obi-Wan’s appearance in the door to his room that Kix had said he was going to collect Cody and would drug him if necessary. Rex brushed over a few of the deep bite marks on Cody’s shoulders. One was settled right over the scar that Wolffe had left after one particularly violent hookup. Rex carried a matching bite mark, a clear indication to anyone who knew what it meant that if they messed with him they would face Wolffe.

“I had seen the evidence on you two before but while its been fading. It was a bit of a shock to see it fresh.” Obi-Wan’s force hand covered his over the bit mark and Rex could feel a surge of protectiveness flair through him through Obi-Wan.

“You know that its nothing we didn’t want.” Rex spoke quietly so as not to wake Cody. The drugs might still be in effect and Cody wouldn’t stir but he didn’t want to interrupt what looked like Cody’s first deep sleep in weeks.

“And that is the only reason I haven’t broken his jaw for what he’s done to you.” Obi-Wan’s voice contained a chuckle. “That and I believe that Plo would have words for me about injuring his Commander.”

“He would.” Rex stood and stretched. He had a fresher in his room but he felt the need to be around his men. The communal fresher was only a few steps from his room, attached to the main barracks where his men slept. Obi-Wan seemed to read his mind.

“I will watch over him. Go.” Rex gathered his bathing kit and wondered out into the main barracks. Entering the communal fresher, he saw Echo and Fives. Nodding to them he wondered over to the shower head between the two of them. It was Echo wo reached out and pulled Rex in close, under the spray of his own showerhead. Fives stepped up behind the two of them and soaped up Rex’s back. He massaged Rex’s ass and Rex relaxed into Echo’s grip, resting his head on the other man’s shoulder. Letting the warm water run over his back Rex let himself get lost in Fives’ ministrations. Obi-Wan was alive. That thought set a fire alight in his belly. He hadn’t told them he was leaving, there would be words about that, but Obi-Wan hadn’t left them to be under some other general.

When Fives’ hand reached around front to soap up Rex’s front Rex leaned back into the man. It was Echo’s hand that came down to circle his dick. Rex rutted into the hand holding him and let his head fall back onto Fives’ shoulder. Fives’ pressed a kiss to the rough stubble that had grown on Rex’s face. Rex kept rutting against Echo’s hand, moaning quietly as his troopers took care of him. When Echo pressed his face into Rex’s shoulder Rex brought his hands to rest against Echo’s hips pulling him in. He deftly slotted them together. Echo’s hips stuttered slightly, and he brought both of his hands to rest on Fives’ hips behind Rex. The three of them rocked together moaning quietly at the stimulation.

Rex went lax with Obi-Wan’s name on his lips when he came. He felt Echo and Fives finish as well and let them guide him to a small bench. Echo’s steadier hands lathered up his face and shaved the stubble off. A quick kiss to Rex’s forehead and the two troopers were off to finish their routines. Rex wrapped the towel around his hips and wondered off back to his room, sharing hand clasps and hugs with his troopers along the way.

  Cody felt fuzzy. Soft hands were resting on his brow. None of the wolf pack was ever that soft with him. Wolf Pack. Wolffe. Wolffe telling him Obi-Wan was alive. Kix giving him the sedatives. He shot upright, dislodging the hand on brow. Almost instantly the headache hit again. He groaned and threw up an arm to cover his eyes. The soft hands helped him to lie down again and covered his eyes. The headache vanished. Cody groaned slightly and let the cool hands guide him to lie on his side.

“I am going to court martial Kix.” A small chuckle.

“I don’t think that that’s allowed. He is your medic after all. He has the rights to relieve you of duty if he thinks you’re in need of the rest.” Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet. He seemed almost pensive.

“Where’s Rex?”

“He was in the fresher when I arrived.” Cody pushed away the hands and sat up glaring at Obi-Wan.

“When you arrived?”

“I had come straight here after stopping by Fox to try to locate you and Rex. I needed to go report to the Jedi council. Rex knew where I was when he woke up.”

“You died.”

“It was a vitals suppressor. I was just fine. I was wearing body armor. It absorbed the worst of the shot.” Obi-Wan reached out a hand and rested it on Cody’s. “I honestly didn’t think you and Rex would react so strongly to my death. I regret not telling you before.”

“You could have told us after.”

“I was hidden in the halls and undergoing the transformation into Roko Hardeen. It was not a very pleasant one.” Obi-Wan shuddered slightly. “Nanobots rearranging the bones in my face is not something I want to encounter ever again. From there I had to capture the actual Roko Hardeen so that I could become him.” Cody pulled away from Obi-Wan and started to gather a set of blacks from the closet. Pulling on a pair of pants he hissed as they rubbed against the bites and bruises on his inner thighs. Boost had made it his mission to bite as many places that he could.

“That doesn’t excuse it.” Hand grabbed at him and he lashed out. Obi-Wan caught the blows deftly and pulled him in close by the hips. Leaning forward he pressed a kiss to Cody’s lips. Cody felt himself melt into the kiss. A weight he hadn’t even know he was carrying seemed to lift of his chest.

A slight cough at the door made the two of them move apart. Obi-Wan kept one of Cody’s hands in his as Rex entered smiling slightly. When he came within reach Obi-Wan pulled him in for a kiss. Rex melted into the kiss as well and Obi-Wan pulled him snugly against his body. Cody watched as the two fit against each other. Obi-Wan’s free hand came to tangle in Rex’s slightly longer hair and keep him close. When they broke apart Obi-Wan dropped his arm down to circle Rex’s waist.

“I missed you Rex’ika.”

“I missed you too.” Rex gave Obi-Wan one quick kiss before he pulled away fully and pulled some blacks out of his closet. Getting dressed he smiled. “I should leave you two to reconnect. I’m sure Fives has three weeks of reports for me.” Rex gave Obi-Wan one more smile before he left the room. Cody pulled his hand away from Obi-Wan.

“I should go see what my second has for me as well.”

“Your second, when I saw him at the temple, told me that he had everything under control.” Obi-Wan’s voice was firm. “He told me to keep you here and let you recover.”

“I’m fine.”

“Commander Wolffe said you went through his entire squadron in a week. The bruises all over you seem to show that you did it more than once.”

“Its not like we’re expected to be monogamous.”

“I would never expect that of you and Rex. I know the culture among the troopers. I think it’s a healthy release. No what your second, Wolffe, and frankly me are worried about is your decision to go about this self-destructive behavior.” The door slammed closed and when Cody pushed against it stayed shut.

“And what about Rex’s self-destructive behavior?”

“Rex didn’t end up with extensive injuries from taking half a squadron a night.” Obi-Wan looked practically livid. “I was given the medical reports Kote.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I will call you whatever I want Kote. The medics patched you up every time. Thankfully Wolffe’s men had enough sense never to run you that hard again. And Fox told me of the number of times that you started fights. He said he had troopers stationed outside of 79’s to keep an eye on you after the third night.”

“And what does it matter to you? Its very obvious that I don’t mean anything to you except as your Clone Commander.”

“Kote I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you or Rex to talk me out of it. I wanted that last happy memory we had in case everything went wrong. I was selfish. I get that. I’ve already had the tongue lashing from Anakin about keeping important people in the dark so spare me it from you too.” Obi-Wan settled on the bed and waved a hand at the door. “If you want to go I understand.” Cody growled and stalked towards the bed. He shoved Obi-Wan down and undid the ties that held his tunics closed. Obi-Wan gripped his hips and pulled him closer.

“Never do anything like that ever again. Rex and I, we can’t lose you.”

“I can’t guarantee it.” Obi-Wan ran his fingers over Cody’s face. “But if there is a next time I promise I will try to let you know. If not before then after.” Cody pulled Obi-Wan in for a kiss and reached blindly for his personal comm unit on the bedside table. He blindly punched in Rex’s number and ignored the comm. Rex would recognize it for what it was and get back here. All Cody wanted to do was feel both of them there with him. Within five minutes the door burst open and he heard the lock engage and the sound of blacks quickly being shucked. Another strong, warm body joined them in the bed. Cody pulled his lips away from Obi-Wan to kiss Rex.

“Kote.” Rex’s hand stroked over his face.

“Rex’ika.” Rex gently dislodged Obi-Wan and settled on top of Cody. Leaning in he kissed Cody and let himself melt into the kiss. They’d been together since they found each other on Kamino. Cody was always home. He felt Obi-Wan’s eyes on them as they kissed. Obi-Wan always felt so grateful for being allowed into their relationship. Pulling away from Cody, Rex looked up to see a naked Obi-Wan gently stroking himself. Reaching out a hand Rex pulled Obi-Wan back into the bed. Obi-Wan settled between the two of them and kissed Cody again, unhurriedly. Cody whined slightly as Obi-Wan settled his weight on some of the bruises and bites, throwing his head back. Obi-Wan chuckled and gripped Cody’s wrists, pressing on the bruises.

“What is it with you clones and machoism and sadism. Neither of you are the first clones I’ve encountered with it.” Rex choked at Obi-Wan’s words. He focused on the scar on Obi-Wan’s shoulder that he had been told was from an animal bite. It had appeared after a joint mission with General Koon and the 104th. Cody seemed to reach the same conclusion that Rex did at the same time. They both narrowed their eyes at Obi-Wan.

“Something you care to share Obi’ika?” Rex traced the scar with a finger and Obi-Wan shuddered.

“I should think it would be very apparent. I would have thought he would have told you about the encounter.” Obi-Wan pressed a small kiss to the matching scar on Cody’s shoulder. “Now how are we doing this?”

“I want you in me.” Cody’s words were quiet, and Rex nearly missed them. “I want to feel how alive you are.”

“Care if Rex joins me.” Cody practically keened at Obi-Wan’s question. Rex chuckled and they rearranged their positions. Rex gently spread Cody’s legs as Obi-Wan grabbed the oil from where it was stored. He watched as Obi-Wan slowly started to prepare Cody before he stopped. Cody whimpered as Obi-Wan removed his finger and shuddered as Obi-Wan rested a gentle hand on his inner thigh.

“Obi’ika?”

“He’s still nice and open from his excursion with the 104th.” Obi-Wan’s eyes darkened and he leaned down to press a kiss to the tip of Cody’s dick. Cody shuddered slightly.

“Please…”

“Biaye ner kar'taylir darasuum.” Rex pressed a kiss to Cody’s temple before lining up with Cody’s entrance and slipping in. He was loose, as to be expected from a few weeks as the wolf pack’s sex toy. Rex nodded at Obi-Wan and Cody tried to push Rex deeper into him. Obi-Wan slowly pressed in as Cody keened, the noise petering out as Obi-Wan bottomed out. Rex closed his eyes and swore quietly in Mando’a. Normally Obi-Wan was the receiver when they did this. It felt so different to have Obi-Wan’s dick squeezed in with his as Cody clenched and shuddered in his arms. Obi-Wan tilted so he could have a good angle and slowly began to thrust. Cody’s scream reverberated through the room and Rex was glad that Fox had ordered sound proofing for every room in the barracks. Right now Cody was theirs.

Rex watched as Obi-Wan found his rhythm then started moving in counterpoint. Cody was shuddering between the two of them unable to make any noise beyond the heavy pants that was his breathing. Rex yelped slightly as something that felt like a hand pressed against his entrance. A finger pressed in and he moaned. Obi-Wan grunted slightly and shifted his angle allowing Rex a bit more space.

“Damnit Obi’ika.” Rex lunged upward as a second finger from the force hand was added and kissed Obi-Wan hard. One of Obi-Wan’s hands left Cody’s Hip and wrapped around the back of his head, deepening the kiss and Rex let the other man Plunder his mouth. He moaned as the fingers found his prostate and rubbed it. His hips stuttered up into Cody and brushed his prostate. Cody yelped and Obi-Wan pulled away from Rex to wrap his arms around Cody.

“Kote, ner kar'taylir darasuum.” Obi-Wan was whispering in Mando’a and Rex spared a thought for where he had learned. The though flew from his head as the force fingers pulled away and were replaced with something larger. Rex moaned and went lax as what was obviously a force copy of Obi-Wan’s dick pressed into him. He could feel Obi-Wan thrusting into Cody and the dick in his ass moved in the same rhythm. He tried not to keen as the angle was adjusted and the force dick hit his prostate. His hips jerked, driving him deeper into Cody. Cody screamed, and his body clenched down.

Obi-Wan watched as Cody completely came apart under him. He came hard enough that his entire body tensed up and his eyes rolled up. He pushed in deep one more time, making sure the replica he had made out of the force for Rex mirrored him, and came hard with a moan of Cody’s name. Rex’s mouth was open in a silent scream as he came as well.

Obi-Wan slowly pulled out and lifted the unconscious Cody off Rex, settling him next to Rex. He wasn’t concerned, it wasn’t uncommon for Cody to white out when he had an orgasm, and used his force to summon some warm, damp clothes from the fresher. Rex was watching him with wide eyes as Obi-Wan cleaned them up and banished the clothes to the laundry shoot.

“How do you feel?” Rex shuddered as he took stock of his body. He felt loose limbed and relaxed. His head was fuzzy and he was blissed out.

“Honestly I think that was the best round of sex I’ve ever had.” Obi-Wan chuckled and rested his head against Cody’s shoulder. Cody was showing signs of waking up and Rex moved closer, resting his head on Cody’s opposite shoulder.

  Wolffe watched as Rex and Cody practically glared at General Windu when he suggested Obi-Wan go undercover again. Beside him General Koon tensed. Wolffe rested a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Why are those two projecting such a murderous rage towards Mace?”

“Could it have something to do with the last time General Kenobi went undercover?”

“Possibly. I know they two of them were unreachable during his last undercover stint.”

“I thought that was just a chance to let Fives and Boil learn command while in a safer setting.” Wolffe guided his General out of the room before he asked any more questions. Through the comms in his helmet he heard the rapid fire Mando’a that Cody and Rex were spewing towards General Windu. He did not want his General near those two when they did finally explode.

[princessknightt]

Assassin's Creed Odyssey Review so far

So I've played roughly 18 hours of gameplay already and I'll give a semi-review for people on the fence about getting the game.

It's fucking good yo. It legit feels like I'm playing The Witcher 3 but with Asassin's Creed mechanics but set in Greece. Which is a good thing since Witcher was fucking phenomenal. I'd even say the game mechanics are much better than The Witcher 3, especially since you can climb everything AND swim everywhere, which was something you couldn't do in The Witcher. The verticality adds soooo much to gameplay, and the multiple routes to assassinate and take care of an area is very good too. There's a fuckton of replayability because of that.

So gameplay is a 10/10. The combat itself is also very good, and I'd compare it to Bloodborne since I was just playing that before playing this game. There's a parry you can do that will stun the enemy for a second and a dodge that will slow down time if you time it right. There's all types of weapons you can use that will all have different movesets depending on what it is. I usually stick to the spear and sword since those are my preferred weapons. And there's a lock-on that you can use when you're fighting 1 vs 1 which you shouldn't really use in 1 vs many. There's also just a lot of things you can do that is done very well. There's naval combat, with your own ship, crew, and upgradable content alongside with recruiting people to become lieutenants. You can ram into other ships and shoot them with arrows or javelins if they're close enough. There's combat against wild animals and even LEGENDARY animals that spawn minions to help fight you that is part of a questline for The Daughters of Artemis. Which is scaled all the way till level 39 I think. There's arena battles which I haven't gotten to yet and just so much content that will take all your time. And then the big conquest battles that are definitely fun and will earn you epic gear and you can side with either faction. There's a lot of things that you do that lead up to the conquest battle, involving destroying war supplies, stealing national treasures, killing captains, and killing soldiers to reduce nation power. The funniest thing is you can choose to side with the side you literally fucked over LOL.

Now for the story. No spoilers but I'm very satisfied with it. It's definitely supposed to be like a Greek tragedy and there's a lot of things that happen that make you go, "well fuuuuck, your life fucking sucks Kassandra/Alexios." The main story so far has already revealed a huge conspiracy and something that made my jaw drop. Legit couldn't believe they did that but well, you'll see once you play the game. ;) The side quests themselves, there's good ones that are marked with exclamation points on your map, and are "character" quests. Those actually give story, but there's multiple types of quests you can do. There's the bounty quests that just have you hunt down bandits mostly, contracts where you hunt down bandits or mercenaries, world quests where it's something to do with the Spartan vs Athenian thing going on, naval quests that usually deal with sinking ships or killing sharks and of course, the Odyssey quests that are the main story. The bounty quests are really tedious and continually come up so like, don't do them unless you need money and xp. I'm overleveled right now so you definitely don't need to do them. Contract quests can sometimes lead to something interesting, so I'd recommend taking those. I'd take naval quests too but shark killing quests are a pain when you can't find any sharks. You can spot them using your eagle but like... It's tedious. Other than that, the quests are done well, especially the character and main quests.

There also aren't that many bugs, I've only encountered 1 where the animals walk into a wall and just keep walking into that wall. Other than that, I don't remember anything else happening.

I'm not really sure what else to give my thoughts on besides the gay romance I suppose. It's been fun, the romances are fucking hilarious tbh and you can make terrible decisions that are just hilarious. For instance you can have sex with someone and immediately just invite them to your crew afterwards, which is Y I K E S if it was real life, but funny as fuck in a game. The romances are also not like, super fleshed out so far, but I haven't encountered Kyra yet so we'll see if my opinions change. You can flirt with a lot of people though, and I've even had sex with an older lady because she had a voracious sexual appetite and her husband literally paid me to have 24 hours sex with her. He sat outside the house and waited as Kassandra went to town for literally 24 hours. And then he thanked me and gave me money. Like damn that was so fucking funny I almost died laughing. There's also the Daughters of Artemis that you can uhhh, have promises for something interesting in the future once you complete Artemis's challenges. So there's no shortages of romance, except it's more of a "this is war so romance will involve you liking their face as opposed to meaningful reasons for a romantic relationship" kinda deal. Though I do think there's supposed to be an epic romance with Kyra so we'll see there. Overall though, I'm pretty satisfied since you can make Kassandra or Alexios as gay or straight or bi as you want. Though I will say that I personally don't flirt with any men in the game cause there has been an option for this one healer dude who seemed nice enough but I just ain't into that. It was also an interesting questline that connected to Kassandra's past.

As for the character you play as, you can make Kassandra or Alexios into whatever you want, though there's a certain tone and flavor that they'll always keep. I didn't play as Alexios so I can't speak on that, but Kassandra is kinda snarky and exasperated with the idiots she has to deal with. She's also very much "I don't take shit from people" and a very strong character overall. She's confident and you can go the route of "I'm God's gift to mankind" if you want so even MORE confidence. She also can give very insightful nuggets of information on certain subjects like the morality of doing something. I was pleasantly surprised by those options so the dialogue choices are actually quite good. And Kassandra's voice acting is actually well done, some spots are iffy and you can tell the voice actress wasn't aware of the context of what she's voicing so it's out of tone but most of the time, it's pretty good.

Oh yeah, one last thing before I give it an overall score. Your actions have consequences in this. I literally restarted the game because I got some Bad News about something I decided to do that seemed like the right thing at the time but well, I wasn't thinking too hard about the repercussions. So I felt really bad and restarted. And I heard there's 8 endings or something, probably something having to do with the overall state of Greece, whether you sided with Athens or Sparta, decisions you make in the main story, and however much character side quests you completed. Which is really good since that means it really is your own Odyssey, exactly like the game advertises. It's also fucking long like the Odyssey.

So yeah, I'd say overall I'd give it a 9.5/10.

[nomanicsdak]

New Post has been published on http://manicdak.com/?p=2291

Daggers for Daggers

and More Bears

First a little catch-up on what I’ve been up to as Alexios the mercenary. First, we set sail from the island of Achillies after having attempted a conquest battle and failed it about a bajillion (the official number) times. I fight for Sparta; I die. I fight for Athens; I die. Also, there is another mercenary after me, I realize on my one time making it halfway through the battle. You can tell because not only is the red hat meter in the bottom corner, but they appear in the middle of battle screaming at you to come and fight them. Then they chase you around until you are dead, and since everybody else is also trying to get you during a battle, it’s best to just pay your bounty or find the other mercenary ahead of time and dispatch them one on one.

Charge!

None of this matters because I am leaving this battle for another day and heading to another rando island to avoid my main quest some more. Here I come upon not one, but two animal caves. My least favorite locations to complete, because, yes, I do want a platinum trophy, thanks, but I don’t really like fighting animals unless I have to. I’d rather just let the other guys fight them, or avoid them. OH, well. Now this island contains not one, but two big old white alpha creatures to defeat. A bear and a boar! The boar is slightly easier, because it is alone, and as we learned before, for some reason bears roam in packs in this game.

He’s gonna get me

Today I learned, just now as I am writing this, that a pack of bears is actually called a Sloth or a Sleuth (as in slow, not as in bears are good at being detectives.) Now, if group of bears is a Sloth, then what is a group of sloths?? (A bed or a slumber is the answer. Bless you, internet.)

Bear asides aside, I decide to go do one of those daily quests that get you some of that rare ore to buy stuff in the store which I’m probably never going to do. Legendary gear? Meh. I pick up a bounty for 5 sharks. I wonder where to find some sharks and just go swim the hell out into the ocean. I find a shark, but it keeps swimming away. Then I go to bed, because I’m tried.

Flailing in the Deep

 The next day there’s still time on the shark timer and I find three at a shipwreck which I dispatch handily, but I run out of time before I can locate more sharks, so it is all for naught. Alas. However, I find a secret tomb on the far side of the island while I’m looking for killer fish. Neat!

In the Tomb looking out

After tomb raiding, I go back into town to defeat the leader and attempt to trigger a battle. I haven’t managed to get Athens’s power down far enough for that yet, but I did initiate a quest, because I don’t want to leave the island with an exclamation point.

So, here’s the story, there’s a group called the dagger that I have to defeat. This guy, whose name I forgot and I can’t find on the ‘nets, but I luckily screen capped his dialog at some point; His name is Agapios—Well, he’s a slave working with the magister (magistrate?) to uncover this dagger dude. I pillage the gang’s hideout on the dock and we find out that the dagger’s leader is called the “Kingfisher” and he is this dude’s brother! *gasp*

Agapios does not believe this shit. Literally. He want’s me to prove that his bro is really dead and not a bad guy, but I actually prove the opposite of that. He’s totally the Kingfisher, leader of the Dagger. I have a thought that he is one of the cultist leaders I’m looking for, so I’m getting amped for this quest. This does not last long, because there comes a time in the gamer’s life where they stumble upon a quest and learn the hard way that they really should have made a manual save before they jumped in and made all the wrong choices. This is that time.  I mean aside from that time I doomed my home island to a plague death that is.

In the sidequest to the sidequest I meet a couple that runs a theatre, also they take care of orphans. Clearly these people must live, because they do not suck unlike half the people I meet. They are getting the shakedown, so I have to go take care of the dagger agent who is in charge of this.

I managed to talk to dagger dude. He was just extorting the theatre people for his family.  I guess some other higher up dagger is putting the screws to this guy too, so I don’t want to kill him, but there’s nothing I can do to convince him to leave the theatre couple alone. I tried to just punch him unconscious and recruit him for myself, but he never wakes up. He’s alive…but won’t get up. Restart.

Next time I approach him, he just attacks me. Apparently, I was lucky to get the talk prompt on my first try.  Anyway,  I must do what I must to advance the quest. We won’t mention that if you do it while at his house, his wife and kid come back home and it is tragic. I get back to the theatre and trigger a cut scene. Another dagger thug is now is holding the theatre couple hostage. Everything I do leads to them being dead. The thug is making me choose which one lives with malicious glee. Like, he is literally squealing with laughter about this horror.

It’s not funny, you maniac!

Whether I choose one or the other or neither…both end up dead. (Because the NPCs won’t stay out of the fight! Seriously, why does the AI have them punching geared up agents of evil with their bare hands when they could be running and hiding under a bush or something?) Several restarts later, I decide to cheat and see if it’s even possible to save everyone. It is. I can snipe the baddies with arrows! Good news.

The bad news is, I have overwritten every autosave with my attempts to figure this out for myself. Woe! I have to leave it with the orphans now double orphaned, because my closest manual save is two entire levels ago when I decided I wasn’t going to do the conquest battle, and I really don’t want to undo all my progress so far. Alas. At least the couple told me where to find Kingfisher before they were gone. 

Before I forget, the cherry on the top of this fail sundae is that even chickens are attacking me now.

But first, I feel like I must finish all my side-sidequests. I have to go visit Agapios’s contact up on a hill. She wants me to get a treasure from a shipwreck before the Dagger gets it. Turns out the treasure is a Dagger meant for sacrifices to Apollo. The Contact thinks this is the most hilarious thing. (The dagger wanted a dagger? Hahah!) I manage to defend her from more thugs that magically spawn, and now I’m off to face the Kingfisher!

So, the big reveal, which I mentioned earlier, is that yes, the big bad is my Agapios’s not dead bro. When I break the news, he just runs away, presumably to go save this bro. Some bystander guard wants to go stop him, because—slavery, but the magister (magistrate?) is just like, nah. He’s free now, let’s go fish for some Kingfisher. We make it to Apollo’s temple and face down the head of the Dagger. I choose to tell my now free friend that his bro is beyond saving, and the fight is on!

I also choose this point to fall asleep again, because I am le tired, and it is late! Next time I will find out for sure if this dude was a cultist. I’m guessing no, because that is my luck. There is also a really, extra shiny glowing question mark on the map of this particular island that I must check out! Tune in next time when I find out that it is actually just a bear jamboree and nothing to do with the finding these cultists I’m supposed to be finding!

Assassin in the Moonlight

Whale Shark

Over the Cliff

more scenic vistas

Why does this donkey have such a big head

Found a Buzzard

Turtles ahoy!

Don’t be Fooled

What are these ladies up to

Whale Breech

Sometimes They Help Me

Why are you punching me, townsfolk?

Lookin’ like Man at Arms

Dolphins

[theshijlegacy]

How to organize your SWTOR stuff (aka Adventures in Crazy)

As long as my alt-alholism has been in full swing, I’ve been attempting to organize all the minutiae about my increasing number of SWTOR toons.

Go below the cut for the crazy!

It started with a list that is still a mainstay: companion gift preferences.  It’s now in its 4th or 5th iteration, still printed from an Excel file, and happily occupying its very own sheet protector.  I have a few other things in that pile - gathering node decoration yields, colors needed for Fabricator Crystals by crafting profession, a breakdown of which crafting professions make which items since 3.0, and a walkthrough of the Eternal Championship.  I’d also had a breakdown of guild ship expansions for the Nerf Herders guilds (both completed now), matrix shard planet locations and matrix cube stats (no longer needed thanks to legacy-wide datacrons and better relics), a spreadsheet detailing the armor pieces of my Level 55 toons (instantly outdated when 3.0 hit), and a spreadsheet to track my Light v. Dark event progress.

Over the last few years I’ve been using a small notepad - and later notebooks - to jot down Important Stuff.  Sometimes it’s simply conquest- or event-related stuff (like who’s completed a weekly goal) or something else temporary.  But my overall game interests are constantly in flux, and I’ve been tracking an increasing number of things on a long-term basis.  Most of my notes are in one of two small notebooks, though I still have a little stack of free-floating papers.

In addition to the aforementioned lists, here’s what I’m currently keeping track of:

Notebook 1: Stuff I refer to more frequently and/or longer term.  The first 4 things listed are the reason I started using a notebook, and after that I just kept going.

Toons hoarding Command Crate commendations, so I don’t go over the max

Alliance Specialist completion (Y/N) for toons who have reached KOTFE

Armor pieces needed from Alliance Crates to complete all 40 legacy armor sets on Star Forge

Toons who have available Weekly Kingpin contracts, by planet

Toons who have Exotic Plague Specimens

Vehicles earned from Achievements and how to get them

Which toons currently have Light vs. Dark XP boost armor sets

CXP tiers of all Level 70 toons and their light/dark alignment

Stronghold decos purchasable from vendors for prefabs, special currency, etc (but not credits)

Star Fortress completion (Y/N) for toons who have reached KOTFE

Level 70 toons that need to finish the storylines for Ilum, Makeb, and Oricon

Level 70 toons that need to complete DF/DP for the Oricon storyline

Stronghold decos purchasable from vendors for credits (plus special currency if needed)

Level 70 toons that need to finish their class story

Toons currently working on planet quest chains

Crafting professions for Satele Shan toons

Level 70 toons that need to finish the breadcrumb quests (and/or boss runs for Aratech Fire) for TFB, S&V, EV, KP, EC

Toons who have reached KOTFE and need to recruit Lokin

Level 70 toons who need to complete the Ancient Gree Relays quest

Toons on Satele Shan who are collecting their class’s Alliance Crate armor

Level 70 toons who have finished the class story but have not finished Forged Alliances/Ziost, and where they are specifically

Level 70 toons who have finished Forged Alliances/Ziost but have not finished KOTFE, and which chapter they have to do next

Level 70 toons who have finished KOTFE but not KOTET, and which chapter they have to do next

Level 70 toons who have finished KOTET, and which location/flashpoint they are going to next (currently I have 4 toons who have completed The Nathema Conspiracy, w00t)

Toons who have not yet collected all 8 pets from Command Crates, and which pets they still need

Notebook 2: PVE Rotations and toons using each tree.  I have tried and tested these in-game and feel confident using them.  Once I decide I’m OK with a rotation, I’ll screenshot the toon’s keybindings as well as the details of each ability, so I can easily replicate the keybindings and rotation for other toons using the same tree or the equivalent tree in the opposite faction.  I’m only worried about max level toons for these.

Dirty Fighting Gunslinger

Engineering Sniper

Virulence Sniper

Scrapper Scoundrel

Concealment Operative

Assault Specialist Commando

Gunnery Commando

Innovative Ordnance Mercenary

Arsenal Mercenary

Deception Assassin

Telekinetics Sage

Balance Sage (I also have two toons using the equivalent Madness Sorcerer rotation, just haven’t gone through the trouble of matching their keybindings 100%)

Vengeance Juggernaut

Combat Sentinel

Watchman Sentinel

Annihilation Marauder

Random papers floating around:

Star Forge Crafting Info: list of professions and toons with slicers specifically noted, crafting mat prices by gathering profession and crafting level, gathering node decorations that are “broken” and giving mats for the wrong level.  This one seriously needs a permanent home.

Decorations I have not yet acquired, not including anything that requires an achievement.  Theoretically all of these can be sold/traded, and decos obtainable from cartel packs, operations, uprisings, and flashpoints are marked as such.

Toons running crafting missions to stock up for the MK-4 prefabs

PVE rotations I am still trying out in-game: Ruffian Scoundrel, Focus Guardian, Sharpshooter Gunslinger, updated Virulence Sniper, Seer Sage (trying not to suck at healing so much)

I’m still not sure if all of this has made my alt-aholism easier to deal with (at least from a planning standpoint) or harder to deal with (OMG SO MUCH DATA)...

[okimargarvez]

ZOCCOLA / SHUT UP

Original title: Zoccola / Zitta.

Prompt: jealousy, sick love, attempted murder.  

Warning: slight A.U.

Genre: action, romantic, angst, friendship.

Charcters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, Sam, O.C. (Luke’s girlfriend), BAU team.

Pairing: Garvez (Sam x Penelope, Luke x O.C.).  

Note: oneshot.

Legend: 💏😘🎲🎈.

Song mentioned: none.

MY OTHER GARVEZ STORIES See the notes for more explanations.

ZOCCOLA \ SHUT UP

(Stay in silent is better than talking to get air to the mouth. But not always. Though, be ready to face the consequences)

 Unbeknownst to the other members of the BAU, Luke and Penelope have been engaged. Six years before he joined the unit. For about a month, during one of the long pauses between Garcia and Kevin. It didn't work, because they were too different, but most of all, lacked passion. The Canadian boyfriend exists. And Roxy is not the only "girl" which is part of the life of tall dark and bland-some .

Beware to cry wolf too much...

 ******************

 Six years ago

-I'm sorry, we can't go on. I don't feel that flame that wrap me, you know? I hope we can still be friends.- the woman had long observed her reflection in the mirror. -That's no good. I hate this cliché. But I haven't to make it so complicated. Even he doesn't feel anything too intense for me. He'll not suffer.- she was make up, dressed normally. When the phone had warned of a new message, she looked out the window and a smile had appeared on her lips. The antiquated car. The usual "I'm here. Get down."; she's going to miss all this a bit. But she didn't love him, she, who loved everyone, even strangers and criminals. She didn't love him in that way. Kevin was still too present; accept the invitation of the unknown, that had seen her in the parking lots of the Bureau in clear difficulty with Esther, his car just as antiquated and in bad condition, she didn't want to believe that it was been just a mistake.

She descended the stairs following a normal speed. Avoiding, as well as puddles, as always, a little for superstition, that step that she still saw soaked with her blood. Then he had opened the door and he had... had greeted her with a kiss. Yet, they had talked about the lack of a strong feeling among them. He said he was of the same opinion. So, why? Why he behaved in this way?

And when she was going to do it, he had suddenly burst into tears. And so, she had given up, postponed it. Once again. But then she couldn't take it anymore. She had done something even more shabby. She had broken up with him with a text.

 ******************

 Six months before

She knows it's coming. She had talked with him the night before. She had asked him something he had trouble accepting. -Please... you could pretend that we've never seen before? I don't want that someone can get strange ideas, knowing about us...-. Luke's reply was very sensible: -But it's been six years.- But in the end, he agreed. Because he loved her. As friends, they were very well together. But just as friends.

The doors open. From the elevator goes down him. It's a bit of time she doesn't seen him. He has always been a fascinating man, she has never doubted about this, but now he has something more. It'll be that beard or that he let his hair grow, that usually had short, in militaristic in style. In fact, the last time she had seen him, had been before he left for Iraq. She watches him shake hands with her colleagues. She feels all eyes on her at the time of their "presentation." She knows what they think. That Luke replaces Derek, so it'll be hard for her to accept him. And it's what she'll make them believe. -Penelope Garcia.- who knows if someone captures that slight flicker in the male gaze or falsity behind her sustained tone and distant.

-Nice to meet you. Luke.- and man barely struggles to prevent himself a wink to her.

 -We have to play even when we are alone?- this he had asked, calling her, just as she was reaching for Sam to going to bed. Her boyfriend, not at all Canadian, was greatly annoyed. Already he didn't like Luke, because although they had had a very short story, he was still an ex of Garcia. And he didn't like the fact that they talked quite regularly. But he trusted her, and he tried to leave her spaces. Knowing that they had become coworkers, and that they would have seen each other almost seven days a week... -Yes, it's better.- it was her answer. -We can't know what can happened, we should still stay in character.- she had whispered slower and he had realized that she didn't want to be heard by Sam. Now the latter and Penelope were together for four years and the "fault" or the merit, it was his, he introduced them... in fact, for a time Sam had been his best friend. And this is why he had presented her to him, when he was with Garcia. Then the blonde came back to Kevin and for a while he heard nothing more of her. And all of a sudden, she had text him to tell him that she saw again Sam and that she had noticed that... she was falling in love with him. Yet in the meantime, the friendship between the two men was now shattered.

-All right, I only do it for you. Good night, Pen.- his voice had proved extremely sweet. Every now and then he did had his moments. Rare.

-Good night.- she was limited to reciprocate, then she had ended the call and run by her boyfriend. But a little thought about Luke had not left her, in her own knowledge.

 ******************

 Today

-Mark and I are getting married.- that how they discovers that the heart of Agent Alvez isn't not engaged only by Roxy. Ever since she had made the announcement, Emily had changed. She was radiant, excited like a child, even careless. Nothing to do with the super woman who had become chief of the BAU with the abandonment of Hotch. And she wanted to know the exact number of guests who would come to the wedding.

The family Jareau-Lamontaigne complete, of course; Dave and his ex-wife; Penelope and Sam; Spencer and Tara without a partner; and Luke with such Narcisa.

And Garcia doesn't resist. She waits till she catches a moment when he is alone, to ask him. -You're engaged?- it's only her mania for gossip, talking. This she repeated to herself.

-Yes, from... about a month or so.- he says flatly. It's quite evident that the sentiment is still immature. However, she is happy the news because finally Sam will stop to think about a possible, however absurd, backfire. And in the evening, at home, she is looking a bit of information on the new conquest of Latin. Starting from the most mundane things: social networks.

Narcisa Gonzales. Even the name is too ordinary. As profile pictures she has a picture of herself with her nose against Roxy's. She likes dogs and that makes her immediately likeable, although she is a bit jealous (of the dog), because having not own pets, she has always considered Roxy a bit hers. She works as a saleswoman in a supermarket. She always smiles and writes sentences that are seen in whatever boring profile...

Then Penelope freezes, as she notices a strange post. Thank you, my love, for these wonderful days together. I love you. A month and already she was at that level? Even she, who was only too accustomed to call people with affectionate nicknames, had difficulty when it was time to say a true I love you... However, she decides to fly over. She picks up the phone and sends a message to Luke.

How about a nice double date tomorrow night? For a lot of time the Latin agent had acted as a third wheel between Garcia and Sam, with particular disappointment on his part. She couldn't understand his jealousy. It was only a few days. There was been just some kisses. You know, I told you everything. Yet he was not convinced. The fact that they regularly texting, that she went to his house, every so often, even though he knew very well that she did so to see Roxy, made him twitchy. It's one of my best friends. Along with Derek, Spencer, Rossi. Why you're not jealous of them? The reply to this question was fast: Because with them you never engaged. With him, yes. However, it was a bit that Sam didn't complain, and now would been even happier.

I don't know, I'll let you know tomorrow at work.

 So, as they had to deal with only some assessments, the next night they come together in a restaurant where Penelope and Luke had been already, when they were engaged. But this they don’t tell to their current partners. Garcia decided to wear something not too exaggerated, she realizes she wants to make a good impression on Narcisa. Sam is much more elegant. She meets soon the gaze of her colleague and friend. Luke wears a clear shirt and jeans. Beside him is a woman who looks like (strangely) to that she seen in the picture: very shapely, even more than her, despite the low heels and a mane of dark and curly hair. Overall, she seems pretty. In her heart she hoped that this is the right time; she is tired of having to bear the grievances of Sam on the fact that "agent Alvez ends up doing always the third wheel in their outputs (because in reality he is still interested in her)".

Why you don't want your colleagues know that you've been with Luke? She reminded one of the questions that her boyfriend had ask her six months ago. But the answer was the same that she had given to Luke. She backs to the present and approaching the other pair, the hand tight in that of Sam.

-Nice to meet you, I'm Penelope.- she smiles holding out her hand.

-Narcisa.- the other replies, squeezing it. She has a delicate touch and even her voice is very harmonious.

The evening passes serene in that way. And then, the verdict of the blonde annoys her companion. -She's nice, willing, she has a functioning head... is too much for Luke.- Sam glares at her and count to ten before speak.

-What do you mean? That she isn't up on your level? That should be you there, in her place?- nothing, every occasion is good for getting at there. The woman sighs and decides not to want to sleep. -But you don't has to go to work tomorrow?- she ignores him, she has always been far too capable to do so. -Suit yourself. Good night and try to dreaming of your Latin friend, please!- as soon as he slams the bedroom door, Penelope begins to cry, but it's a silent cry and he'll not notice. She loves him, of course she loves him, because otherwise they would be together? But lately he doesn't understand her, he has become indifferent to her crisis, he cares only about making love (if she can even call it that) and to persist with the story that in fact, she is in love with her colleague.

The only way she can let off steam is to write. Through the words that she types, come out also all the malaise, anxiety, pain and anger she felt over the course of the day. Yet it is a bit 'that she doesn't it, so she doubts for a moment to be still capable. The second before she is no longer able to stop herself, despite the warm weather and a desire to get up to get a glass of water and an open a little the window to change the air; she can't to block the flow that has enveloped her at the same instant in which she placed her fingers on the computer keyboard.

 After four years, he still doesn't trust the woman who claims to love. He accused her for things that don't exist, unhealthy ideas born of his mad mind and by keeping insist in this way, he has managed to penetrate the doubt in her. And if he's right? And this isn't the time to wondering questions like that, not now that he has another girlfriend. She had all the time she wanted to change her mind, go back, try again. Not that he (the other he) has given her many reasons (or opportunities) to do it.

He isn't in love with her. He loves her because they are friends. He is closest to her, he consoles her because if she's not thinking clearly, she can't do a good job and ther others are lost. It's important that she's fine. But she doesn't want to wonder if she was wrong, if she was to stay with the other man. There wasn't passion, there wasn't that magical spark. They hadn't even made love, because she didn't feel right; something told her not to, and fortunately, considering what happened.

But now she's tired of having to use a form in the third person in fear to express themselves. Sincerity always first of all, she told herself. Sitting in front of her computer, typing sentences without meaning, that perhaps will clear why not deemed worthy to exist and occupy megabytes on her hard drive... she wonders if this is really considerable love.

She takes off the mask and looking in the mirror. Below it, I appear.

 ****************** The next morning Penelope completely forgot those strange thoughts, which appeared to her deriving from another self, which she couldn't recognize. While she is arranging things before the meeting on the new case, the room door opens, and Luke appears. Without looking up from the folders, the computer technician turns to the newcomer -Not yet the moment, I'll call you.- noise of steps approaching, then an imposing shadow obscures the view. -Newbie?- she still occasionally call him in this way. -What's happening?- the man's face transmits sadness.

-Nothing, I can't wait to discuss the new case.- she raises an eyebrow.

-What do you think, I'm a stupid?- she approaches him and puts a hand on his shoulder. It's damn easy to forget how tall he is. -Come on, tell me. You certainly didn't come here to help me with these documents!- she also tries a joke that gets a little smile just mentioned from him.

-It's Narcisa... - he starts, without looking at her while he's talking. She thinks with a little complacency Trouble in Paradise? -Tonight, I wanted to go out with Phil, to remember a bit the old times, "boy's night"- he chuckles, but stops quickly -but she doesn't want, she says that I neglect her, that I don't love her because I don't want to spend every free moment with her...- Penelope remains dazed by this revelation. But if they saw each other yesterday! And then another thought that she isn't able enough to drive away And, you love her? But she doesn't ask it.

- You didn't tell me she had understand all the exits you had to do last month?- Luke nods.

-Yes, but last night, as soon as we said goodbye, she began to complain about the fact that we still don't live together, that I don't text her enough and then she had asked me what we would do tonight, I told her my plans and she was pissed.- the blonde, while listening, starts to sort things out, because in a moment the future bride and also the chief of the BAU will appear. But she doesn't know what to say to help him. And anyway, a second later Emily appears and shortly after also the others.

-We are ready to start?-

 The same evening, after waiting for the return of colleagues, Garcia goes back to home and wakes Sam. They make love, or something similar, but in the end the confusion in her head hasn't dissipated. This method also didn't work. And she doesn't even have the strength to write something.

 ****************** She didn't expect anyone to enter her bunker. She was turning off the system, because by now another case had been solved. She had lingered anyway so as not to have to go home too soon.

She looks up and sees Luke. -I can't do it anymore.- she stands up, inviting him to continue. "It's always Narcisa. Look at what she texts to me.- he hands her the cell phone. Penelope reads the message but accidentally pushes it forward and so she sees another part. I bet there was also your ex-zoccola with your friends. She gives him the appliance back and their hands touch each other. He understands something has happened, because she is bleached and no longer seems to be present. -Pen? Are you okay? - only when he caresses her cheek she is recovers.

-She's not referring to me, is she?- her voice is weak, incredulous, and her eyes are shining. Luke understands that she had also red the next text.

-I'm sorry, I didn't want... I'm sorry.- she suddenly feels she needs to get away. -Pen? Penelope?- she shakes her head.

- It's... it's all right. No problem. But now... Sam is waiting for me.- a lie. -I had to go.- she checks that everything is perfectly off, grabs the bag and runs out. But she hears his footsteps behind her.

-I can accompany you ..- she doesn't stop even to respond - We have to do the same way, so...- he stops her putting a hand on her shoulder.

-Do you want to really make her angry? I do not think so...- he re-start walking and decides to take the stairs, rather than stay closed with him in a space as tight as the elevator. Luke, however, keeps follow her.

-It's not like anyone'll know....- his tone seems too conspiratorial.

-I prefer to take the subway. I... need time to think. Alone.- she finally turns towards him. -We see you tomorrow morning, ok?- he nods and stays there watching her run away.

 She is angry. She feels an incredible hate. She wonders why she asked her for friendship. Why the woman puts hearts under the posts she writes. If she really thinks such thing about her. She wouldn't have known the meaning of that strange word, if only her Italian stallion hadn't explained it to her one day.

And yet she should have expected it. No one girlfriend had managed to easily accept the fact that before they boyfriends had been with her. She who wears the mask again, because she doesn't feel like facing reality in the first person.

Again, that woodworm that hammers her. And if he was right? And if they all were right?

Things don't go well with "original" him. Suspicion is now a certainty.

What she needs would be a period alone. A very long time.

 ****************** Incredibly, they spend three months in indifference. Sometimes Luke lets out some complaints, but mostly focus on solving cases and they don't talk about anything else. Sam always comes home after her. He smells strange. He doesn't look for her anymore. And this makes her life a lot easier.

Then the great day arrives. Emily is almost unrecognizable with the white dress. Penelope strives to the maximum to concentrate only on the main couple. To ignore those hands entwined in front of her. That give her absurdly annoyance. She is moved at the moment when the chief of the unit pronounces the word yes, but the arm that wraps her shoulders is only circumstance. A convention, not reality.

And what she would like to do is stand up and shout the truth to everyone. An extremely selfish gesture that fortunately she doesn't perform. But pretending this is nothing is getting harder and she feels that the explosion is near. She needs to talk about it with someone. At least with one person. And the choice is all too easy.

 -What did this bitch say? You're joking, right? I can't believe that Luke would ever put himself together with a... I'm struggling to see her as a person.- then all of a sudden the multi-mom blonde realizes the implications of what she has been revealed to her. -Wait a minute... but... you and Alvez have been together?- JJ smiles as she asks the rhetorical question.

-Yes, six years ago. During one of the "pause for reflection" with Kevin... but it wasn't anything important. Not a story of a night, don't misunderstand me... we were together... a month. But there was no passion, so we broke up. I still thought about Kevin all the time... We were friends, but he left for Iraq and we rest in touch occasionally with e-mails or messages. Then we met again when he joined the BAU, but I told him it was better to leave the past behind...- she hopes JJ hasn't noticed the fact that her cheeks have turned red.

-Penelope, it's... I have no words. From the beginning it seemed to me that there was something strange between you and Luke, I thought it didn't depend only on the departure of Morgan...- Garcia puts her head on the shoulder of her friend who hugs her. -Have you told it Sam?- she sighs and closes her eyes.

-Yes, and... nothing, he had remained indifferent. He didn't even try to defend me, he wasn't indignant... he is very happy to go out with a hija de puta.- JJ looks at her in amazement because she spoke in Spanish. -Luke taught me a bit. After we broke up, we managed to remain friends, just because ours was a very soft story.- she simply explains.

-So, you really pretended that you didn't like him as a person... but the matter was much more intricate than we thought...- the blonde with eyeglasses nods. -And now? You'll let it go?- it's clear that she's suggesting her do the opposite.

-No. I don't think I can do it. The problem is that I shouldn't know it, what she really thinks about me. And believe it or not, the thing that makes me angrier... is that she pretend sympathy and a positive interest in me. She took me for stupid?- the friend and colleague can't find an answer to this question and Penelope returns home with the same doubts as before, but the heart a little lighter.

 She can't take it anymore to have to always use this external shape. She is me and I'm confused, tired, emptied and if there was one thing I never wanted to become, it's really emptied. I live a useless relationship, made only of appearance. For fear of being alone. We can't continue this way.

And that girl. I can't help but think about her. I was with her boyfriend six years ago. We're friends and we see each other almost every day, but as far as she knows, I've been busy with another man for a very long time. I gave her no reason to be jealous. I don't even put "I like" to every post of him! (Maybe one day I'll be able to write that name, but not today).

Enough, I no longer even have the strength to write. Not even this help me.

 ******************

 Another month spends without any significant event. Then, one evening, she finds her in front of her. Together with everyone else. They are from O'Keef, the bar near the unit where they spend several moments after a bad case or to celebrate a successful one. There are the newlyweds, Emily and Mark, so they finally get to know him really. There's Will (the baby sitters do wonders) and there's also Sam. But Penelope struggles to tolerate that arm around her shoulders. She constantly glances at JJ, who tries not to stare at Narcisa. Even her name seems stupid.

At one point she can't take it anymore and decides to get up and go out for a breath of fresh air. She doesn't even notice that Luke has gone out because his cell phone has ring. But after a moment she hears him speak, she listens intently to his conversation and realizes that something serious has happened. Then his voice cracks and he burst into tears. She can't stay hidden and takes a step in his direction. She sees him with the phone in his hand and a fixed and distant expression, alienated. -Luke?- she whispers softly. The man sees her. -What... what happened?- another step.

-My mother...- he can only say. Penelope fears the worst. -...yesterday she had a heart attack, they took her to the hospital... we had that case and I didn't go. I was thinking of going tonight, but... Narcisa- he pronounces that name almost with hatred -she insisted on coming here, to "see your friends again ", I hoped... I thought I had time to visit her later...- before realizing what she is doing, she brushes his arm with her hand. -She's dead, Pen. Dead.- the tears begin to flow copiously along his face and he seeks comfort by embracing her friend. The latter continues to wonder why the first time she saw him cry didn't affect her, in fact, almost annoyed her and now she would do anything, would even give a part of her life, to make him feel better and see him smile. Maybe it's because she knew Luke's mother personally and loved her. Perhaps she has only matured.

As she strokes his back a bang rings around them and a flash lights them. A sudden storm decides to make an appearance. Penelope leaps for the scare and Luke feels the woman's heart beat wildly. Another flash and less than a second after the rumble. It also starts to rain very strongly, but neither seems to want to separate from the other and interrupt the contact. The raindrops match perfectly with Luke's tears, they are almost a caress, they wash him, purify him and it seems to him that even the sky is crying for his mourning. The blonde shudders, now completely soaked and he realizes it. Holding his arm around her shoulders, he leads her into the shelter of his car.

The shower is raging, the drops hit the windshield and the windows violently, but sitting next to him, Penelope feels a strange heat. She doesn’t know what to say, to help him, because nothing will ever be the right thing. She knows this perfectly because she has not yet passed her parents' death and almost thirty years have passed. But the Latin takes her hand, intertwines their fingers and looks at her, as if to say that her presence is enough for him, there is no need to do anything else. But Narcisa should be there, instead. She is his girlfriend, and this is one of those things that couples should face together. Not just think about holidays or put pictures full of little hearts on social media; or writing "I will marry my partner" via emoticons or coded sentences. These are the difficult moments that make the difference.

 She sent a message to Sam. She had kept the bag out with her when she left for get some air, not knowing why. Destiny, perhaps, had already chosen in her place. She didn’t need anything else. He too had typed a short, coincidental text message with which he ditched Narcisa. They have imagined them: angry as all hell, intent on making false assumptions. And they almost laughed. She had accompanied him to his parents' house. She had shaken hands with Luke's father, who had dragged her into a hug. She had also cried, but when no one could see her, or so at least she believed; in fact, the ex-ranger had heard those sobs and had refrained from showing himself. She had come out of the bathroom, her eyes still shining and her face a little red, but they both had pretended nothing had happened.

Luke's phone had received several messages and calls, all ignored. Garcia's was off. The last phone call she had made was directed to Prentiss; she had explained the situation to her and that Alvez and she would be absent for some time because of the mourning. She had to help him organize the various stages. The chief hadn't understood, because as far as she knew they almost couldn’t stand each other. Penelope had then suggested that was better if she talk to JJ, who would clarify her doubts.

Their fingers remained firmly intertwined both during the funeral home and during the rosary and the funeral. Their hands had never separated, except to make the sign of the cross. The Alvez family was very religious, Catholic, as could be expected from people of Latin descent. Garcia had managed to avoid wondering why that contact, that there had never been before, had seemed so natural, nor when they were together, or while they were simple friends. Although she was an expansive person, to put it mildly.

Her computer was missing. She had to write, she needed it to let off steam. So, she took a sheet and a ballpoint pen and had followed the old method.

 What's going on? Did he really need me right now? Coming here was a crazy idea. I'm just a friend. But in the eyes of his relatives the thing will have seemed very different. What was most important that he was fine. But at what price?

I'm still so confused, too. The only thing I'm sure of is that I have to be able to leave Sam. I don’t love him, no more. And he doesn’t love me.

I hear Luke snoring from the opposite side of the room. I'm writing with the moonlight coming through the window, so probably tomorrow or even in a few hours, I will be able to decipher just a few words. I hope not to disturb him. It has been a long day and seeing him finally resting, with a serene expression, looks like a miracle.

Tomorrow we will return in Quantico and the world will begin to flow again, even if it has never stopped, it’s we who have stopped or we have hoped to do so. We will have to face reality. Narcisa wants to kill me and maybe now she has some reason to do it. She certainly can’t understand that a man and a woman can be friends, that at that moment it was necessary to do what Luke needed. That there are no double ends behind it.

Now I should try to sleep too, probably.

I will not succeed.

 ******************

Things go exactly as she had expected. Garcia decides to explain the truth about her past with Luke. Everyone reacts with amazement, except JJ and Emily. The same evening, she also makes the decision to clear things up with Sam. She waits for him for a long time, when the door opens, and she jumps but sighs, because finally she’ll free herself of a weight. He sees her on the sofa and gives her a cold look. They haven’t spoken since that evening by O'Keef. She stands up -Sam ...- she says. In a flash the man reaches her and gives her a violent push.

-Bitch! Why did you bother to come back? Already tired of your caliente Latin?- his tone is pure evil. He terrifies her. She can’t even replicate anything. -Silence means consents. Narcisa was right about you. You're just zoccola.- after a moment of calm he gives her a very strong slap that makes her lip bleed. -You have always been in love with him and have never had the courage to tell me.- now she fears the worst, but fortunately Sam goes away and leaves the house, not before having whispered in her ear -You're not worth the trouble it would take to hit you.-

There is only one possible number to do. The fingers move on their own. When Luke at three forty-seven at night sees the name of his friend and colleague on the display of his cell phone, he immediately thinks that something terrible has happened, but that doesn’t concern a new case. He feels it in his bones. And the confirmation comes to him through the broken, broken voice of Penelope. He rushes to her house, destroys any speed limit and opens the door wide open. She is there, curled up on the sofa, hugs her knees and looks like a child. She doesn’t even cry anymore. When he approaches her, he fatigues to remove her hands from her face and sees an easily recognizable red sign: five fingers, large, masculine. -Pen?- he says weakly, as if afraid of being able to do more harm, to hurt her. -What did he do to you?- he is afraid of her answer, but he has to face it, just like any other difficulty. She was there for him and he will be there for her now.

-I... I wanted to leave him... he... he told me that I'm... a bitch and zoccola .- the man tightens his eyelids, hearing her pronounce those vulgar words. -He said that Narcisa was right. And that I was not worth the effort.- he lets his breath go, he resumes breathing, understanding that at least that thing didn’t happen.

He squeezes her in his arms but when they separate he exclaims a phrase that manages to get Garcia out from the sort of stupor in which she fell after Sam left her alone. -Narcisa was really right.- she raises her eyes on him. She opens her mouth, eyes, and closes them. They become lucid again in a moment.

-You think I’m just zoccola ?- Luke shakes his head vigorously.

-No!- now he knows that he is obliged to tell her. -I’m still in love with you.-

And from here start various stages. Before, the shock for the whole sentence she heard, then, further awareness takes over. He said "again". It implies that he was even earlier.

-But ... but ... why you never told me... I thought...- now even his gaze is sad.

-I didn’t want to weigh, to put pressure to you. You didn’t feel the same things and I couldn’t do anything about it. I tried, however, to get rid of your thinking, to convince me that we could only be friends... I made fun of myself. Narcisa is just the last useless attempt I made.- before he can add details or she reply, the door opens again and the devil appears.

-Only a useless attempt?- the woman holds a gun in her hands and doesn’t seem at all uncertain. Surely, she knows how to handle and has already fired before. The tip towards Penelope. -A nice way to find out that I’m right. A rather poor satisfaction.- she seems almost ironic and wanting to joke. The hands of the two don’t separate. Narcisa pulls the trigger back.

-You don’t have to get mad at her. It’s not her fault. It's me who made fun of you, I deserve to die. Not her.- he doesn’t even try to negotiate and the blonde understands how deep is what Alvez feels towards her. -Let her go.- but it's all useless. Indeed, seeing how much he is willing to do for Penelope, makes her angry even more.

-Sam says that you’re not worth the effort. About this we disagree.- a moment before she shots her, Garcia understands something else. It was with this psychopath that Sam betrayed her. She doesn’t need any further proof, and nothing will be done anyway. She doesn’t even care how long it has been. She squeezes Luke's hand until she loses her sensibility in his fingers. But he releases her grip and pushes her away at last. She doesn’t have time to feel hurt, or betrayed. The bang deafens her and when she regains conscience of where she is, they are alone, and Luke's blood is soaking her sweater.

Once more fingers that move fast, they type, but this time not geeky thoughts that compose a sort of alternative diary. Few numbers, a call, desperate instructions. And then men in uniform, blinding lights, sirens, visits, no one who wants to give her the answers she pretends.

Until JJ enters. -Garcia ...- the blonde doesn’t pronounce the words she expects. -He's alive, he'll make it.- and hugs, other people, other visits. And finally, that sentence. -You can see him now.-

 They're both alone again.

She feared there would be a patina of embarrassment between them. Because the situation is strongly unbalanced. He had not openly declared himself but was willing to die for her. And Penelope, when she thought she could lose him, realized that she wouldn’t be able to accept it. He had been her best friend, in a similar way and at the same time different from her relationship with Morgan. With Derek she was joking, and even though for a while she had really been thinking about a relationship of another kind with her chocolate thunder, she had realized early enough that it would never happen. While she and Luke had a past, however short. That threshold was already crossed, it wasn’t a kind of taboo.

And in the end the doubt had hammered her for all the six years that had taken her from that rainy day in the car to another equally wet, sheltered in a hospital room. But she had always wanted to store them as crazy thoughts due to her too much spinning the wheels in her head. Although over time they had become more pressing, especially when they started pretending not to know each other after he was hired as a profiler.

But there is no need to rethink the past. Enough that unpleasant feeling, that heartache that she hasn't feel since Morgan was kidnapped, that she felt when her parents had that accident. The terror that he can definitely go away is much more intense than what a friend should feel.

She doesn’t even care that Narcisa and Sam are still at large, while the two of them are in hospital and Luke under the knife and when Emily, Tara and JJ tell her that they have taken "the sons of a bitch", she reacts to the announcement with shrug. The only thing that matters, for her, is behind that door.

 -Hey.- she tells him a little intimidated. He smiles at her; his eyes are a bit 'clouded.

-Hey.- he repeats. He moves the fingers of his left hand, resting on his chest, as if trying to squeeze something. The void is filled by those of her.

-You failed to get yourself killed this time.- she tries to joke. Then the voice cracks. -But you almost killed me.- and inside that sentence there is everything. There would almost be no need for Penelope to lean toward him and puts her lips against Luke's. The warm tears that bathe her face are both from joy and pain, they sound about the present and the past. -They had catch them.- she tells him, but neither is important for him at the moment. He only cares about the woman who cries and laughs at the same time, next to him.

 ******************

I’ll write again, but not now. Now Luke is sleeping and with one hand it’s not easy typing. If I try to detach my hand from his, he moans in his sleep. I’ll write again, but about other things. This demon has exhausted its power and there is no need to exorcise it anymore.

TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee @itsdawnashlie @talesoffairies @janiedreams88 @kiki-krakatoa @yessenia993 @teyamarra @c00lhandsluke  @gcchic @arses21434 @orangesickle @entireoranges @jarmin @kathy5654 @martinab26 @thisonekid @thenibblets @perfectly-penelope @ambrosiaswhispers @maziikeen92 @lovelukealvez @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @ichooseno  @ megs2219 @rkt3357 @franklintrixie @thinitta @chewwy123 @skisun @maba84 @saisnarry @myhollyhanna23 @thenorthernlytes

Notes: Much of the things described here have really happened to me. I dedicate this story to that person who tried to make me feel wrong; the only differences between story and reality are that I'm still with my Sam, while her Luke wants to break up with her, but he has no courage to do it. I decided to keep the original epithet which was given me, zoccola (it means bitch, whore) because I believe that in the Latin world of Luke and his girlfriend it can be understood. This things have happened one year ago.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Chains

A Loki Laufeyson x Reader Fic Request

Request Fic based off of this post for @kimistry27 (I hate the fact your damn tag won’t tag!!)  Hope it’s everything you were looking for!!

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader  |  Word Count: 2742 Warnings: Implied sexual conquest, mostly fluff

“Loki?”

“Yes, pet?” the God of Mischief, book open in his lap asked distractedly, not bothering to look up from whatever history of whatever world he'd currently engrossed himself in.

“Can I,” you hesitated, swallowing to wet your throat. The hesitation had those blue-green eyes lifting to peer at you intently, your discomfort finally gaining his attention. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, darling.” Holding out his hand, he beckoned you closer with a crook of his fingers.

The whisper of the fabric of your Asgardian gown was all the sound you made as you joined him on the divan where he drew you to sit at his side. He’d brought you to Asgard as a gift for your birthday, the one place you'd longed to see, but you'd spent much of your time with Sif or the Warriors Three or Thor playing guides and guards as Loki’s presence in Asgard brought about much unrest. Some of the people felt his past actions out shadowed his current behaviour, his about-face as it were, that saw him siding with Thor and the Avengers many times in the past two years.

He was trying, but it was a tough crowd.

Most of that effort came from when he'd walked into the Avengers compound, bound in chains, and come face to face with you. Had Thor not been there to explain, you likely would have run screaming when Loki had turned a stunning shade of blue, rending the chains which bound him into nothing more than brittle pieces of metal that had fallen to the ground in flaking fragments when he'd glided swiftly toward you and dropped to a knee.

It appeared you were what the Asgardians called a bonded pair. The gods had seen fit to bind Loki to a soft-hearted but harder headed mortal, one who had promptly punched the God of Mischief in the face when his cobalt blue hands had reached for you.

It had taken time - and not a little effort on Loki’s part - to see you coming around to the dark male's charms. He’d done everything within his considerable power to show you he would change, become the good man you wished he would be, and for the most part he’d succeeded. If at times he pulled the odd, well-placed prank, well, it wasn't a big deal to turn a blind eye. After all, who didn't occasionally think of shaving Stark bald, or painting Barton’s bow a vibrant orange? He messed with people, but he was the God of Mischief. You couldn't expect him to be totally reformed.

But you'd heard a few things being in Asgard, jokes and comments which had gotten you thinking. Thinking much too hard and much too wantonly about things which you probably shouldn't.

Biting your lip, you looked down at your linked fingers before glancing up at him through your lashes. “Is it… do you… am I… oh hell,” you muttered, having a horrible time asking your question.

Concern etched across his face when he cupped your cheek and turned your face to his. “What is it? You are happy, are you not? No one has been rude to you?”

“No, no, no!” you were quick to reassure him when his eyes darkened and his temperature ran cold. Protective Loki could swiftly become violent Loki if he felt someone had been unkind.

“Then what is it, my love?” Anger turned to puzzlement.

“Are you… am I… enough?” you asked quietly, a flush burning your face. 

“Enough?” he frowned. “Explain?”

Flushing an even darker shade of red, you bit your lip. “I heard a… a thing that made me think… perhaps I'm not giving you what you need… in bed.” The final two words were barely a whisper.

“Who would say such a thing? And of what did they speak?” he demanded.

Tears welled, uncertain if he was upset with you. “They… they said you like chains. That's why you end up bound hand and foot so often.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened in understanding.

“Am I… am I not enough? Am I too… too soft? Do you need something from me I'm not giving?” you asked, desperate tears sliding down your face.

His lips pressed briefly against yours. “Beloved,” he crooned when you gasped a quiet sob. “They were making fun, my heart. Speaking of how I wound up chained so often in my past. I seemed to constantly get myself ensnared in another set of restraints.”

“Then… you don't want,” you hiccupped, “me to… do anything with… these?” A twist of wrist brought the links of golden chains to your fingers where the heavy weight pooled in your lap. 

A perk of the pair bonding was sharing powers. As you had none, silly little mortal you were, you just got to use Loki’s. He’d relished the days and nights he'd spent teaching you everything he could think of after you’d accidentally duplicated yourself. 

A second twist of wrist had the chains wrapped around him, binding his arms to his sides and sending him reeling into the back of the wide divan. 

“You know these restrict my powers, darling. If you would please unbind me, I'd appreciate not having to repeat the performance of our first meeting.” 

But you couldn't, not yet. Not when you'd thought of this for hours today. “Let’s play a game, Loki,” you coaxed softly, running your hands over his chest, down into his lap, and vanishing his book. 

“You'd best have marked my page, woman,” he threatened, but the darkening of his eyes and rapid beat of his heart gave away his enthusiasm for your new game. “I think, perhaps, it's you, pet, who has the fetish for chains.” 

“Maybe…” you hedged, a smile flirting with your lips. 

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, a quiet, deep sound rumbling from his chest when your fingers delved between layers of tunic.

Your smirk grew slowly. “Two hours. I want two hours where your powers are relinquished in full to me. You can’t beg to be freed, can’t plead for release, and can’t use your abilities as a frost giant to escape your bonds. You have to let me play, Loki, as I wish for two hours.”

“And if I lose?”

“I get to keep the chains and use them once per month for the rest of the Midgardian year.” As it was only March on Earth, that was a fairly long time.

He frowned, clearly contemplating his chances. “And if I win?” he asked cautiously.

“You can use the chains on me for the same amount of time. Two hours, Loki,” you clarified when his eyes brightened.

“Done!” he fairly jumped at the chance.

A surge of overwhelming strength filled you as all his magic suddenly became wholly yours. “Oh… oh wow…”

“The timer is running, beloved,” he crooned, smile wicked and face smug.

Climbing in his lap, tugging the skirt of your dress up as you did, you settled across his thighs, leaning down until the tip of your nose touched his. Brushing it gently, you echoed his smile. “I know, my glorious dark god, but there’s something you should know before we get started.”

“What is that, love?”

Tracing your lips along his cheek, you hovered near his ear, “I haven’t worn panties at all today.”

His sharp inhale had you rocking back and laughing to the ceiling.

***

Exactly one hundred and ten minutes later, you lifted yourself from said dark god’s lap with a twisted smile. Your dress had long ago been discarded, his hair was dishevelled from your hands in it, most of his clothing was askew or thoroughly out of place.

He was panting, cheeks flushed, eyes dark and wild. He looked far more dangerous, far more feral than ever before, but that was likely due to the multiple times you took him to the edge only to deny him what he wanted. The tips of his fingers had turned blue not long ago, and the room had cooled enough to pebble your nipples and give you gooseflesh.

Getting to your feet with a decided wobble, you picked up your dress.

“What are you doing, darling?” he all but snarled.

“Finishing the game, Loki,” you smiled, putting the garment back on.

His brow arched. “You are not leaving this room.”

“I have seven minutes to do with you what I wish, and what I wish is to run… very, very fast,” you grinned cheekily, knowing damn well you were in so much trouble!

“Running won’t save you, (Y/N),” he crooned. “You’re in my soul. I can find you wherever you go. Is it not better to simply stay and take your turn at this game with the class I know you possess instead of running like a scared child?”

Sliding your feet into your slippers, you curtsied with a flourish. “I choose option number two, my lord.” Turning on your heel, you ran for all you were worth.

“Darling? Darling?! (Y/N)!?” Bellowed from the room but you kept running.

Five minutes was not much time to get where you needed to go and Loki, when he came for you, would be on such a warpath. You only hoped he remembered to straighten out his clothing before chasing you down.

At the doors to the large banquet hall, you skidded to a walk, well aware of the guards who watched you with wry amusement. Striding inside with grace, you made your way toward Thor. The look on your face must have caused concern for he was soon hurrying toward you.

“So… yeah. No one panic, okey dokey?” you said with a forced laugh.

“Panic over what? What did you do? How mad is he?” Thor’s question ended, and a mighty wave of power rolled through the palace.

“Ha ha!” you wheezed when a good portion of Loki’s power washed out of you. “Not mad so much as… ha, denied.”

“Oh!” Sif, who’d come over to chat, barked before hiding her mouth behind her hand. “Well, then.”

“Save me?” you begged softly.

“We will do our best,” Thor promised, his smirk wicked. “Make ready!” he called out.

When the doors at the end of the hall slammed open, the God of Mischief in all his finery walked through. He’d done more than straighten out his clothes. He’d dressed with the intention of having people remember who and what he was. He was a god, a dark one, and at the moment he looked it.

“Brother!” Thor bellowed, holding out his arms.

The call had Loki freezing, noticing where he was and the startling amount of people. “Brother. I’ve come for my wife.”

“As I asked her to make sure you were here at this time, I’m afraid you will both have to stay a bit longer. Come, sit, enjoy!”

“Enjoy?” Loki mumbled, moving toward the long table. “It is not a feast day. What are we celebrating?”

“The return of the prodigal son,” you whispered once he was close enough.

“What?” he gasped.

Thor dropped a meaty fist on his shoulder. “The people of Asgard are smitten with your lady wife. She has proved her goodness and gentle heart to them. Because of this, the people know you would never do anything that would sacrifice the happiness you have with your woman. They welcome you home, brother, your place in my court is reinstated. They welcome you to return to Asgard!” he called out, and the hall erupted with cheers.

The shocked look on Loki’s face brought tears to your eyes, and you reached out to him. “You are a prince of Asgard once more, my heart.”

His eyes darted to yours, emotion-laden as he gently touched your cheek before being swept away by a tide of people wishing to welcome him back to the court, the revelry just getting started as food and drink flowed.

It took an hour for things to settle, or to calm to what you’d come to realize was the least boisterous part of an Asgardian party. The drink had not yet gone to the men’s heads when Loki’s presence at your back appeared, and you were whisked away to the far side of a large stone pillar, conveniently hidden from view. A soft expulsion of breath left your lips when he pinned you forcefully to the stones with his muscular body.

“You were my distraction as they made ready for this feast, weren’t you, my love?” he asked, lips a hair’s breadth from yours.

“Yes,” you whispered, watching as eyes of blue slowly darkened into a deep green, glimmering with shimmers of his power.

“And the chains? Was it all an act?”

“No…” you sighed when his lips skimmed yours, feeling the heat of desire pool again in your belly. “The comment was, as you said, a teasing one, but it put the thought in my head. What would my Loki look like, bound hand and foot, completely at my mercy?”

“Did you enjoy the view, darling?” His voice deepened, rumbled like the growl of a hungry wolf as his teeth tugged your earlobe.

“Very much!” you gasped, turning your head in an act of submission.

“Good,” he growled in your ear. Pulling slowly away, he smiled a dark, devious, devil smile as he released your hands and reached in his sleeve. Something gold and shiny appeared in his fingers, a single link from the chain you’d bound him with now hung like a pendant from a thin necklace. With a flick of fingers, it reappeared around your throat, the link resting above your heart like a dark promise. He placed a fingertip lightly on the link, but his eyes never wavered from yours.

Leaning closer, he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. “I re-forged the chains after I broke them, my love. They await your return to our bedchamber.” His hips pinned you back against the pillar, causing a wanton moan to erupt when he rocked against you.

Apparently, you’d left him in quite a state, one hidden only by the extravagance of his clothing. No wonder he’d changed. “Loki,” you sighed.

“Oh the things I have planned for you, (Y/N), my wicked, naughty girl. Eat and drink your fill, my heart, for you will not see the outside of our chamber for the next few days.” His eyes glowed with mischief.

“Loki, two hours, you promised,” you reminded him, only to have him smile his patented Loki grin.

“Yes, two hours to use the chains, pet. You said nothing of other restraints,” he whispered in your ear, leaving you stunned, shaken, and highly turned on as he laughed ever so evilly and walked away.

Sif found you moments later, still leaning against the pillar. “I think you need this more than I.” She held out the cup of mead, which you took and gulped back.

Once your legs had some much-needed bone back in them, you looked to the tall warrior. “I think I may have started something.”

“I think you may have,” she snickered, leaning around the pillar and laughing. “Loki has not looked so pleased with himself in some time.”

Straightening up, you handed back her cup and lightly squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Sif.” You looked out over the crowd to find Loki laughing with his brother. “But FYI? I don’t think you’re getting those chains I borrowed back.” Giving her a cheeky grin, her face making you giggle, you went off to fill your belly knowing full well your husband’s promise was not one to be taken lightly.

He smiled at you as you went by, grabbing your arm to pull you close so he could press his lips to your ear. “I enjoyed this new game, love. Perhaps I like chains after all.”

Drawing your fingers over his abdomen, feeling the shiver you caused with the action, you gave him a Cheshire cat grin. “Bound hand and foot, Loki? Why I never would have guessed.” Laughing, you walked away, content and happy and not at all concerned with your own upcoming appointment with the mass of golden restraints.

 - The End -

[lostandbrokenshell]

Darkest Before Dawn. Part 2

Farcry 5 fanfic. Rated M for Mature language and sexual reference. No pairing or plans for smutt.

Your head hurt fiercely slowly you open your eyes there was a man sitting not far from you, your hands where zap strapped to a post.

“Good your awake, you people really kicked the hornets nest.” He said staring you down.

“Sir im a lonely red head.”

“Im reffering to the shit job you deputies and that dumb ass marshal did.”

“Well it was my first day, i skipped the tutorial. Probably a my bad.” You reply as you close your eyes. Fuck did your head hurt.

“Is this a joke to you? Because those peggies are out there murdering people and burning their homes to the ground. They where waiting for some dumb ass to start their holy war and you ass holes just did it. Now good folks are dying and im trying to figure out this mess you made.”

“No this isnt a fucking joke, i was literally blown off a bridge. I went to see what happened to the dumb asses when we lost contact and another deputy split. I have no fucking clue whats going on i arrived in this town yesterday to start my job today. I went from being a fucking paramedic to this shit? Fuck. Fuck this is fucked. Am i going to make jokes? Yes, why? BECAUSE I WAS BLOWN OFF A FUCKING BRIDGE! Worst first day ever and now im tied up in what looks like is some old dudes basement. Sorry if im not taking it to seriously right now i have had a doozy of a time trying to figure this shit out.” You say while glaring at him, he studied your face for a few minutes before sighing deeply and pulling out a knife and cut you loose.

“Theres clothes in there, get changed burn the uniform meet me down the hall.” He said as he walked away. You pick out a flannel red shirt and jeans and go see the old man. There was one wall dedicated to your family and another woman. Clippings about disappearing people,a cult, people being strong armed out of their properties and homes. Your family was the centre of it all.

“Jeez” you whisper and you hand traces the wall. You look at “Faith” and the flower named bliss it was some serious chemistry compound drug work.

“Near as i can tell, shes a replacement for the sister they couldn’t find. Call her Faith because they believe that their sister will come back, and that “Faith” will help harrold her into a new beginning.” He said from behind you. “Names Dutch. I get you didn’t kick this hornets nest, but your involved non the less deputy. Help me, help the folks out there in this mess and maybe we can fix it.” You turn to face him, his face was stern and fixed on you for your reply.

“They’re killing people?” You ask and he nodded.

“If not themselves, they order it.”

“Im in.” You say with a small nod. Your heart had sunk. Blind leap of faith was a bad idea. Should of looked up everything, is that why the house was so cheap? People cutting losses and getting the fuck out of town? Dutch talked with you for a while catching you up on Edens Gate and “Peggies”. He helped you get a good lay of the land and where to find some things and even gave you few guns to leave with.

“Other than your, brief training as a deputy what else do you have in your bag of tricks. Because you cant underestimate these peggies.” Dutch asked as you where heading to the bunker door. “ These peggies dont mess around.”

“Fair enough, i was in air cadets until i was 18 got my pilots license through them, learned to shoot to. Im a ace shot actually.” You say with a smirk. “I also volunteered as a firefighter at 16 did that for a few years to, become a paramedic and did that until I moved here. I have lots of experience saving lives, this is the first time i get to use guns to do so.” You say with a smile.

Duth noded “Good dont die then.”

Securing falls end wasnt easy, you had to wait for a group of peggies to take off and act, strike fast and once they had the opportunity the rest of the town fought with you. Mary May put a shot and beer in front of you.

“You earned it darling.” She said with a smile “You really shoved it to those peggies! And it was beautiful.” Before you could answer the tv flickered and started showing an image of John, he had Hudson and was talking. You couldn’t hear what he was saying your mind tuned it out. You where lost, it really is your family and they are fully aware of what they are doing. The video started over again it was on a loop you realize you where holding your breath and exhale. You take the shot and put your head on the counter. This is fucked.

“Dep-you-tee” the radio crackled “You must have a radio from my men enough of them had one.” You look at the radio beside you Mary May was glaring at it. If looks could kill.

“Hello John.” You say slowly your mouth was dry, your heart pounding.

“Ah, there she is! I was wondering if I would get to hear your voice. I wonder when we get to meet? Will it be at your baptism maybe?”

“Not surprised you don’t recognize my voice John, but we met.” The bar was silent probably the quietest its even been you didn’t know.

“Oh? An old conquest maybe? Did you have a habit? Lots of possibilities. But none that matter. We maybe short what was promised but reaping day is here.”

“Where you promised another person?” You ask remembering Dutchs words about how they believed you would be back.” Laughter erupted on the other end.

“Dont you worry about that dep-you-tee, Joseph hasn’t been wrong yet, see you around John out.”

“Looking forward to the reunion, kind of its conflicting now... Joanne Hope out.” You didn’t add your last name, you didn’t go by Seed anymore but you think that was enough for him to get the picture. Everyone in the bar was fixed on you and the radio. There was a long silence before it was broken surprisingly by the radio.

“You’re top priority Dep-you-tee, your marked now. Lets see if you are, who you say you are hm?”

“Nothing like a good ole sibling rivalry John, in the midst of a hostile cult takeover. Lookin forward to it, because im not turning my back on these people. Ive dedicated my life to saving lives im not going to stop now.” You slide the radio away and the pastor sat down beside you everyone went tense watching you. “Im not like my brothers.” You say quietly as you sip at your beer.

“I certainly dont think that you are. Im pastor Jerom” he said warmly has he put his hand on your back. “Thank you for saving us.”

“Seeds arent welcome here” someone angrily yelled

“Then i guess its a good thing my last name is Knight. After my parents that raised me.” You say as you turn around to face the people. “I dont know what shit show i walked into, but this certainly isnt what i was expecting. Finding long lost homicidal siblings running a cult that almost killed me multiple times since i came to town. Fucking great. Just fucking great. I didn’t look into shit moving to this town because i wanted to be surprised. Looked beautiful seemed like a great job everything just seemed to fit so i thought it did. Should of stayed in Canada, paramedics dont deal militant cults.” It looked like a couple people where going to say something and you where getting ready to leave. Mary May slammed her hands on the bar.

“The deputy stays. She chased those peggies out of town, she freed us and gave me my bar back. Got a problem with that then walk.” She said as she nodded towards the door everyone looked down and walked away. “You got balls. I like that.” She said to you with a smile “Have another shot, we cant pick family.” She slid another shot to you and Jerom and poured one for herself. “Cheers” you all raised your shot glasses.

The next day you start driving up to the jail Jerom thought that maybe some space between you and the men looking for you might be best. You where not ready to deal with Jacob yet either so you decided on Faiths region. Besides should probably check in at the office so the know your alive, if they haven’t heard already. It was easy to zone out driving no one one the roads. Just tree, tree, tree, sign, tree, tree, tree, flaming person, tree, tree. Shit! Flaming person? You slam on the breaks and look back a peggie was on fire while it looked like Sharky assisting in the lighting of the fire. You put it in park and hop out.

“Sharky my man! Safer to travel in numbers want to come?” You ask as you to nod to your stolen truck.

“Hang out with the coolest deputy ever bashin peggie heads? Hells yes im in! Your like the coolest bro ever, i mean dude, dudette? You know. Uhh, yeah.” He said with a nod.

“Great, I remember something about a flamethrower? That would be great in times like this.” You say as you both get in “I mean if the worlds going to burn, might as well help it.”

“Seriously your like, the fucking coolest how did you end up with the popo?or this shit hole town for that matter”

“An absolutely terrible judgement call.” You reply With a laugh. “When my parents passed and left me everything i saw an opportunity to try something new. I had money to sit on while i did training and that for some reason i thought law enforcement. I mean i did some firefighting, was a paramedic and thought why not law. It ended up the town i had long lost family in, needed someone of my position i went for and got it.” You say the jail was close by now. “I wasn’t expecting a crazy cultists hostil take over on day one of the job.”

“No one ever expects the crazies, you just cant know how crazy they are untill its to late. Like we all knew they where crazy but not likeTHIS crazy. This is set your house on fire with you trapped inside crazy. Because thats what they’re doing ya know, litterly what they’re doing.” Sharky said with a nod “I feel bad because i may of shown one or two peggies how to make a flamethrower before i knew they where crazy peggies.”

“Dont worry Sharky, i wont blame you for that... If you dont blame me for my long lost family. Im, uh.. My last name was Seed a long time ago, before i was adopted.” You say stiffly not sure how he would react he looked surprised for a minute then nodded.

“No worries bro, we’re on the same team!” He said as he patted you on the shoulder. The prison came into view and it looked like it was through a war.