#so now my only solution is I need to open up a new doc and completely restructure the whole thing by splicing together the existing writing

[figofswords]

anybody remember the stephanie brown essay I was working on under a research grant fully last summer? yeah it’s not done yet it super needs to be done and I’ve been avoiding working on it for weeks. someone tell me to just do it already

#the problem is. actually there are several problems #1) I’ve been out of the Batman/dc comics phase for almost a year so I don’t care that much about the topic #2) I am fifteen pages in and have not touched it in months so I’ve completely lost my train of thought #3) I can’t just reread it because I hate first five pages or so and I know I need to change it but I was trying to finish before editing #so now my only solution is I need to open up a new doc and completely restructure the whole thing by splicing together the existing writing #so that I can figure out where the hell im going with this and make sure things fit together better #unfortunately that sounds fucking exhausting #but I told my mentor I would have an update for him by the end of the week and. well. it’s the end of the week #I have to present it in April. I have to write and submit an abstract in March #the school gave me $1500 for this stupid essay and if I don’t have anything to show for myself. #well. I don’t know they can’t take the money BACK but it’s not a good look #and also I would feel bad #I did the research!!! i interviewed comic writers even!!! I just haven’t finished WRITING IT DOWN #and I KNOOOOWW once I get started it’ll be fine once I’m going I’m going #but STARTING is hard because I feel like I have to finish it in one go which makes it so huge and daunting #I’m like. slamming my head into a wall. just write a couple sentences Jess something is better than nothing #just start it you don’t have to finish just START just MAKE the new DOC #I know!!!!! that is what my therapist would say!!!! Jess you’re trying to oneshot it bc of your dumb adhd brain!!!! #stop looking at it like that and making it scarier!!! #but even tho I know that logically I’m still like oh I should put away the dishes o should make bread #I should work on my six different art pieces I should do laundry i should play with the puppy I should go for a walk I sh

[writingdotcoffee]

New in Writing Analytics: The Draft Library

I haven't posted much recently, and this is why. I've been working on a massive new feature for Writing Analytics. It took way longer than I expected, but it's ready now. And I'm so happy with how it turned out.

Previously, the app only had a chronological list of all your writing sessions. This works fine when you work on a single project, mostly first drafting. However, when you write a lot of stuff, it's easy to lose track of what you did when.

The thing is, people write a lot of stuff in WA. This feature was badly needed for a long time — my first sketches date back to August 2022. I'm glad I didn't build it back then because the idea wasn't fully formed yet. I found the right solution a few months ago and started working on it.

Introducing the Draft Library

One great thing about the library is that it's pretty self-explanatory. It's where your projects and drafts live. Projects behave like folders. You can drag them around to rearrange them. Click on a project to see the drafts inside.

When you open a draft, you'll see its text and some basic stats. Figures like the word count and how much time you spent working on it across all your writing sessions.

Creating new sessions has also changed. I broke the form down into a few steps. It's now way easier to select a project and join a challenge.

This brings me to my favourite new feature: colour coding! You could always set colours for projects, but this is mainly to distinguish them on your dashboard.

Now, you can colour-code drafts in the library as well. Make published drafts green and drafts that still need work red?

Or, when working on a more complex story, you could colour-code different chapters based on the PoV characters or track interweaving threads of the narrative. The possibilities there are endless!

If you'd like to give this a go, you can sign up here (it's free for two weeks).

Coming Up Next

I'm always working on new features for the app. Right now, I'm updating the version history. Every time you create a session, Writing Analytics makes a copy of your draft. You can go back in time and see all the previous versions.

I'm also working on an export feature to the docx format so you can move your work to Google Docs and send it to your editor when you finish drafting.

#writing #write #writers #writing tips #writing advice #writing life #writeblr #amwriting #writing tools #writing analytics

[deiliamedlini]

WIP Wednesday

So, this is from a fic I was writing a while ago that I just moved into a new doc while I was organizing so I figured I’d post this since I just posted a new Pirate Chapter so I don’t have much else I’ve been working on while I finish off grading for the semester. 

I had the same crisis I just had now that I had here where I thought I’d posted more for this than I actually have, so here’s 3k words of an AU where Zelda and Link are childhood friends, and she’s out fighting as Sheik since she’s not allowed out as Zelda, and she’s injured after a big fight, so this is Link discovering she’s Sheik for the first time. 

/

It had to be Link.

He already knew about Sheik, he was trained in field medicine, and he accepted her as a friend and ally, but what if he found out it was her? He’d feel betrayed. Would he ever trust her again?

The solution was easy: he just wasn’t going to find out.

She clumsily made her way over to the barracks, far less graceful than Princess Zelda or Sheik had ever moved. Worrying she’d get caught, she tried to go slow, but each time she rested or let a guard pass, time skipped, and she hadn’t realized she’d moved again.

It was only when she was outside the hallway window that she was fully cognizant again.

There was absolutely no chance she could pull herself up right now.

“Oh, Goddess,” she breathed, pressing her face into the cool stone. It was the first sensation she could actually register, the cold, lumpy surface. But it was gone in an instant, using up the last of her power to teleport herself into the hall in a puff of smoke.

No one was around, and she limped to Link’s room before throwing herself onto the door with a thud. He’d hear that.

“Who’s there?”

“Sheik,” Zelda said as loud as she dared, looking around to make sure no one heard.

The lock clicked and the door opened. She’d angled herself well enough that Link couldn’t see her wound, only the evidence of a battle written all over her face.

“Sheik?” he whispered. “What are you doing here? How’d you know where I am?”

“I have my ways,” Zelda laughed, but the pain of jostling her stomach had her hissing instead. “I need your help, Link.”

“Okay.”

He stepped aside and Zelda took one step before her body and mind registered that she was safe. She collapsed onto Link’s floor, rolled onto her back, and stared up at the flat ceiling.

“Oh, shit!” Link was over her, his hands hovering by the horn still impaled in her stomach. “You need a physician.”

“No! Just take it out!”

“I’m not trained! I’ll kill you!”

“You have field training. Just do it!”

“I don’t have that kind of training.”

“Fine, then I’ll go.”

Link shook his head and pushed his hair from his eyes. “Alright. Come on.”

He wrapped her arm around his neck and moved her into his bed.

Though this was far from the first time she’d been in his room, or even on his bed, it was the first time she’d been here at night, and the first time she’d laid on the mattress. It felt like she was seeing everything from an entirely different perspective.

Link’s hair was tousled, and he tied it back as best he could, though it ended up in a small bun at the top of his head with all his hair falling out the back, but he seemed more concerned with keeping it from his eyes than anything else.

He was barefoot as he padded around on the concrete floor, grabbing a towel, cloths, bandages, a bottle of alcohol, a basin, water, and finally, two of his knives. He dropped one into a small fire that was going in the hearth, and shook his head.  

“This is a patch job, Sheik. You need to get this looked at after. I have nothing for infections, nothing in case this goes wrong. I can stop the bleeding if there’s anything internal that I can see, I can clean and cover the wound, but that’s all. I don’t even have boiled water. This is going to get infected, I’m telling you now.”

“I’ll be fine. You’ll do fine.”

Link knelt beside the bed and picked up a knife. “I hate that you’re making me do this.”

“I’m sorry. You’re the only one I could come to.”

Hesitating for a moment, Link let the comment pass without a reaction. “Can I cut you out of some of this? I won’t be immodest, or anything.”

“You’re saving my life. Do whatever you need to do. Just…”

Link waited, his knife ready to cut the fabric surrounding the horn.

“—just don’t touch my mask.”

Link eyed the scarf over her mouth and nodded. “Okay.”

He was slow with the fabric, ensuring that there were no mistakes in even the simplest step. When he could see her whole wound, he cut the elastic fabric away so it didn’t keep trying to come back to slap him each time he moved it aside.

When that was done, he grabbed the alcohol and water basin, and dabbed it onto a cloth before pressing it against the outside of the wound.

Zelda tried to suppress a scream, her back arching as the water dripped inside her, burning worse than any flame ever had. The sound was high pitched, but it was soft, so Link just gave her arm a reassuring pat before handing her the bottle of alcohol.

“Drink the rest down.”

“What?”

“Drink.”

Zelda held it in her hands. She could be strong enough without it, right? “I’ve never… been…”

Link headed to grab his knife from the fire before glancing at her. “It’ll just numb the pain a bit. You’ll want it all. I’m not the expert, remember?”

“Goddess,” Zelda breathed, lowering her scarf only to her mouth, and immediately chugging the bottle. It tasted bitter, fairly disgusting, actually, and she wondered who drank this for fun.

Link took it from her for a moment, shook it, and handed it back. “More.”

Perhaps she should have gone to a physician.

She moved her scarf back up so Link couldn’t see any of her, but he wasn’t looking. His hand was already on the horn.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Okay: one, two—”

He pulled it out.

Again, Zelda screamed, but this was faster, deeper, and over quickly. She thrashed away from him, and felt his hand was over her mouth, and then, the world was dark.

 Zelda woke up feeling worse.

Before, she was running off of pure adrenalin, and somehow, she’d managed to make it to Link’s without fully registering what she’d done. But when her eyes creaked open, she was hit like a speeding collision with all of the pain she’d been in, and all the agitation Link’s patch job had done.

“Link?” she said, almost forgetting that she was still Sheik. Her hand flew up to her mouth, and she felt the safety of her scarf masking her identity.

“I didn’t touch it,” he said, walking towards her from somewhere Zelda couldn’t see. “Are you in pain?”

“Yes.”

“You’re lucky you passed out and didn’t have to watch me fumble around. Please, Sheik, go see a physician that you trust.”

“I don’t trust anyone,” she whispered just before wincing. A harsh, choked noise ripped through her throat, and Link sat beside her, taking her hand.

“Goddess only knows why you trust me.”

“You’d be surprised,” she said, keeping her voice low.

Link chuckled and moved his hand near her face. Zelda jerked back, crying out as she did.

“I’m not going to take it off,” Link breathed in exasperation. Zelda watched him a moment before trying to force herself to relax.

He pushed aside the bandage that kept her hair in place, and pressed his hand to her forehead.

“You’re already burning up,” he said, pulling away.

Zelda whimpered as he did. His hand was cold on her skin, and it felt better with him there.

He seemed to get the message, because he let his hand rest on her cheek, flipping to his knuckles every now and then to keep the colder side against her.

“Where can I take you?”

Zelda shook her head. “I’ll leave.”

“No, just… you’re not in any condition to move. Stay here for the night. I have guard duty, so the room will be all yours. Is there any family I should tell? Someone who needs to know you’re not coming home tonight?”

“No.”

Without elaboration on her part, Link nodded and crawled over Zelda so he could use his other hand more easily against her.

“I could sneak into the castle physician’s stores. It won’t be great, but it’s better than letting you die from an infection.”

“I won’t die. I’m too stubborn.”

Laughing, Link nodded again. “Yeah. From what I’ve seen, there’s only one other person I know who’s as stubborn as you. And she would absolutely manage to intimidate an infection off of her.”

“Who?” Zelda asked, half self-indulgently—hoping he meant her—and half curiously in case he didn’t.

“The Princess.”

Though it wasn’t visable, Zelda smiled. “She sounds like my kind of person.”

“You’d probably get along.”

Zelda began to drift off again, dozing in and out of consciousness. When she blinked her eyes open after what seemed like a second, Link was gone.

She couldn’t spend the night here. Not only did she risk being found, but if anyone went into her room in the morning and saw her missing, that would be the end of everything.

Rolling out of the bed with a soft whine, she forced herself to her knees and wrapped her arm protectively over her stomach. Tentative steps were even difficult, and she resorted to shuffling as the world spun and her nose burned. She shivered. And on top of it all: pain. It was all worse than she’d ever felt in her life.

Deep breaths.

In the corner of Link’s room were piles of cloths and bandages, all bloodied and dried. She’d have to find a way to discretely reward him for his help.

Climbing out his window, Zelda kept to the shadows until she was near her usual ascension point. There was no way. Absolutely none. Not with these wounds.

She closed her eyes and let the warmth of her magic take her into a darkness. And when she emerged, she was halfway up, drained, tired, and feeling terrible. She would have to climb the rest of the way.

It was slow.

She usually prided herself on her speed, but there was just no way, no matter how badly Zelda wanted to get this over with so she could collapse in her bed.

Getting through her own window was the hardest, and the landing hurt more than ever. She peeled off her clothes and glanced at the bandages Link had used. Goddess, it was hurting.

She pulled out her hair, and let magic take care of the rest of her disguise, like returning her eyes to normal.

Throwing on a loose nightgown for comfort and a pair of shorts, she slid into bed.

And cried out in pain.

Her door whipped open, and Link had his sword out, his eyes scanning her room before landing on her. “I called your name first,” he said, justifying his intrusion in a clear false alarm.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

He gave her a small smile and went to leave, but he stopped. His gaze was locked on a puddle of blood by her bed.

Zelda groaned.

“What happened? Are you okay? There isn’t someone in here, right?”

His sword was out, and he was ready to look through her room. Where he’d find her Sheik outfit.

“I’m fine,” she said, though it hurt to talk. “I’m feeling sick, that’s all. I just want to sleep.”

“The blood.”

Zelda bit her lip and cleared her throat. “Yes, it’s… um… it’s woman blood.”

“Woman blood?” Link repeated, his eyebrow raising in his confusion. “Like some sort of ritual?”

“Link, I’m not feeling well because I’m bleeding. Do you understand?”

“If you’re bleeding, we can…” his lips pinched together and he closed his eyes. “Right. I’m so sorry. I’ll, uh… go. I’ll go.”

Zelda watched him with a small smile on her lips. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean to… just so you know, I wasn’t… um… do you need anything? Can I get you anything?”

“No, Link, but thank you.”

“Okay. I’ll be outside. I won’t barge in again.”

“You’re doing your job. I don’t fault you for it. I’d rather you awkwardly barrel into my room than me die at the hands of an assassin.”

Link sheathed his sword and winked at her. “I got your back. Feel better, Zel.”

“Thanks.”

When Link closed the door, Zelda rolled her eyes. For a man who’d seen combat, who’d patched dying soldiers, who’d killed, she’d think he could recognize when someone was wounded.

She didn’t care enough to linger on it. Instead, her eyes drifted shut.

She found no rest that night.

The blankets were too warm, the air was too cold. She was sweating, she was shivering. Her body ached and it was numb. It itched and it stung. The world was blurry, and it was black.

A low hum formed in the back of her throat, and she barely managed to get her feet on the ground. Her voice had broken in some way, because she couldn’t call out to Link for help. The only thing she could do was hum.

Her hand shook as she gingerly touched her stomach where the horn had gone through, and immediate wafting waves of pain wracked her body. It was swollen, and her palm came back red, the front of her nightgown stained as well.

Grateful for her magic—which she imagined was doing more for her than she knew—she closed her eyes until she felt something pressing into her. Leaning heavily on the door, Zelda took a moment to let the dizzy spell pass over her before she stepped aside and cracked the door open.

Link turned to her immediately, an eyebrow raised. “Princess?”

She didn’t know how late it was, or how long she’d slept. She didn’t know anything except that she needed to give up her secret for the sake of her life.

“Link,” she managed to croak out, her head resting on the doorframe. “I need your help.”

He reached for his sword, but she shook her head and held out her hand. Her bloodied hand.

Link didn’t hesitate to take it, but he turned her arm around, checking for wounds. She tugged him into her room and promptly collapsed.

“Goddess!” Link hissed, catching her before she hit the ground.

And then he saw the pool of red on her nightgown and ran his clean hand along her forehead, pushing her hair back with a pile of sweat. “You’re on fire. What’s happening?”

All she could manage was a whimper, her fingers tightening on the sleeve of his shirt.

“Come on, let’s get you to the physician.”

He slid his arms under her, picking her up with ease, like he’d always been able to do when they joked and played.

“No,” she whispered into him, her warm breath on his neck, her limp arm dangling beside her. “Bed. I need you.”

He shifted her in his arms, considering disobeying a direct order from royalty in a serious situation. “What a proposition, Princess,” he tried to joke, but he was too tense for it. He set her down on her mattress, his eyes locked on her bloodied sleepwear.

“Lift it,” she said, bunching the fabric into her fist.

This time, he raised his eyebrow.

“I have shorts on. Do it.”

“Okay.” He shook his head and shifted her so he could lift the nightgown. He went slowly, unsure what he was meant to help her with. And if it weren’t for her sickly pallor, fever, inability to keep her eyes open, and her pained whimpers, his mind might have veered off into a genuine question of what it was she wanted help with.

He didn’t have to wonder long.

When he exposed her stomach, he froze.

Staring him in the face was the familiar bandage patch job he’d just done hours ago, only now, it was covered in blood with a distended wound.

Only this wasn’t Sheik.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself, his hand hovering over the bandage. He looked up at her pleading eyes, scrunched together in pain and nervous anticipation for his reaction. But staring at him weren’t Sheik’s eyes. They weren’t a stranger’s, or even a casual friend’s. No, they were his favorite eyes, and they were begging him for help. He hesitated for only a moment, but then, he was on his feet, crossing her room. “I told you it would get infected.”

“I’m sorry,” she cried, an involuntary tear springing to her eye as her stomach spasmed from the air, sending fresh waves of pain through her.

“Don’t be sorry. Let me help. Let me get the physician. Or better yet, I don’t give a damn who you are: I’m getting the physician once I get this cleaned up. Hell, I might even call for help.”

“Don’t!”

“No,” Link snapped, his emotions coming out in his disrespect. “Earlier, I thought you’d be smart. That I was just a quick fix while you went for real help. But you’ve been in here sleeping since then? How the hell did you even get past me? What the hell?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t answer that. Now’s not the time. I’m getting help.”

“Please! No!”

“I’m not going to watch you die because something possessed you to trust your life to a half-assed field medic in his room hours ago.”

“They’ll make me stop!”

“Death will make you stop. I don’t give a damn about anything but that.”

“Please, Link…”

Link crossed the room back to her side. There was a bottomless pit of concern in his eyes, but he was angry and disappointed. “You have one chance right now to tell me who you want me to go to. My job is to protect you, and now, I’m protecting you from your damn self.”

#WIP Wednesday #legend of zelda #link #zelda #zelink #sheik #writing

[parasit-kind]

1. first message: what is the purpose of a blog.?

ahso i begin!!! first blog post! it has taken me a while to begin such a .."project" but i think it will benefit me prospectively, no)?

so, before i begin my musings about why one starts a blog, i will present my one negative. growing up being a bystander of living human beings and the way they live, i have noticed that people enjoy to speak more than they enjoy to listen, and oftmals - and i am an offender of this -, when one listens, they are thinking about what it is that they will /say/ next, and if not that, then they are thinking of something completely off topic, what can no longer be categorized as listening (guilty, guilty, guilty!!!). thus, humans typically do not care for the thoughts of others. that's ok, that is biological for an instinctual organism. it's the mechanism that keeps species alive, the feeling of save yourself first. in fact, those who feel that other people are of more or even simply of equal importance to themselves are probably what we would pen "insane". if one cares more for other people than themselves, then it becomes a question of "am i ruining the quality of their lives with my existence? my non action? what do i do to benefit others?" and subsequently, not themselves. so yes, it is normal and healthy for people to be self-centered, but it is also not a very profitable trait for the blogger (besides the side of the blogger, who cares about themselves, like me right now, hello!). why should one write a blog when only they care about it? reading ones own thoughts is a little pointless after they have already gone through ones head.. besides, the overuse of the personal pronoun 'i' is a turn-off in itself. people want to hear 'you'. i'm giving this to you. this is for you. i love you. notice how boring these phrases are until the word 'you'. the world is about you.

so blogging seems fairly pointless in the modern world wherein people crave the satisfaction of being able to speak whilst also being heard absolutely, and it is in truth a dying medium. the attention span of the youth is dwindling. i too, shamefully enough, can sometimes hardly get through an article in the new yorker... but i come into blogging knowing my audience is no being but the wall behind me as i type this into my phone. so so so.. why does one begin a blog? the answer... too many thoughts for the brain. the brain, though figuratively infinite, is no bigger than the confines of the skull wherein it resides. that's not a lot of space, yet one has a lot of thoughts. there is the need to express these thoughts before they disappear somewhere beyond the astrocytes and into the black matter of the brain's folds. the solution is tumblr (naturally).

the personal question then to me is, why must it be tumblr? is it not enough to keep a diary? a google doc? and unfortunately, no, those are not enough. i have tried, wanting so desperately to discard of my piles of brain matter into private files, but that only makes the desire more severe. suddenly, my thoughts are even more isolated, sitting idly in some pdf that i'll probably never open again, becoming something that neither my eyes nor the wall behind my head will ever bare witness to again. i am only a human(so i supposeee) and i want to be heard.. just a little bit.. just through the self-manufactured voice of your brain that you created as a placeholder for the silence of my typings. i wonder, what does my voice sound like to you......

first musing:done!

i will see you again soon, ^_^ liebchik✉️

>parasitka პარაზიტკა

#first thought #long thought

[lastpolh]

Audify tutorial

#AUDIFY TUTORIAL HOW TO#

#AUDIFY TUTORIAL INSTALL#

#AUDIFY TUTORIAL ANDROID#

#AUDIFY TUTORIAL WINDOWS#

Obviously this is a simple example, in real world use you'll likely want to handle messaging with the worklet, run getDevices() and return the result etc. In this tutorial, well go through the basics of the Laravel framework by. In short it reads your notifications and smartly skips the annoying notifications.

#AUDIFY TUTORIAL ANDROID#

warn ( "Rt device routing failed", reason ) ) Introduction: Audify ReviewToday, marketers and business owners are using. I just released a new android app called Audify in the Playstore.

#AUDIFY TUTORIAL INSTALL#

Download GameLoop from the official website, then run the exe file to install GameLoop 2.

#AUDIFY TUTORIAL HOW TO#

In the main process, you'll need to instantiate your BrowserWindow with a webPreferences options object that includes ). How to play Audify Read Aloud Web Browser with GameLoop on PC 1. Note also the warning in the Electron docs about using native addons in workers, but I have not run into any of the problems mentioned there while using Audify. On Mac, you'll need to use Electron 14+ for it to work well because of Chromium Mac-specific issues with audioWorklet in earlier versions. Your Galaxy device is great for so many things watching videos, playing games, and listening to all of your favourite tracks. You will learn how to record audio, audio editing.

#AUDIFY TUTORIAL WINDOWS#

On Windows I have it working well with Electron 12+. How to Record & Use Complete Audacity (2022) - Beginners Tutorial - YouTube A complete Audacity tutorial for beginners using Audacity 3.1.3. Was thinking of publishing a package for this if there's demand since there's not much info on the web about how to do this. There are a few gotchas bc of Electron, Chromium, and Web Audio API quirks but I have it working pretty well now. Or if anyone has any feedback/ideas for better implementation I'm open to hearing. If anyone's more curious I can post some sample code. I may open a separate issue about that to investigate further if I can't figure it out. It lets you create playlists from a variety of sources, and comes with a huge range of customization options. If you want to take a shortcut, have a look at the ready-made HTML5 Audio Player available on Envato Market. Only issues I came across is that some ASIO devices I tested did not seem to work with in RtAudio. During this tutorial Im going to be introducing you to HTML5 audio and showing you how you can create your own player. I connect it to a Web Audio node back in the main thread (in my case I connect my main master output node to the worklet), and the audio is routed to the RtAudio stream nicely, tested up to 32-bit 96kHz output, no glitching. So I have the worklet itself instantiate RtAudio from audify and pipe the raw input PCM data directly to rtAudio.write() (in Electron worklets can call Node.js modules as long as nodeIntegrationInWorker is true). The prebuilds are for Node v12.11.x+, v13.x.x, v14.x.x, v15.x.x, v16.x.x, v17.x.x and Electron v8.x.x, v9.x.x, v10.x.x, v11.x.x, v12.x.x., v13.x.x., v14.x.x, v15.x.x, v16.x.x.In case anyone comes across this just wanted to post the solution I settled on, the best way to get Web Audio raw output buffers in realtime seems to be via an audioWorklet, which is actually a pretty simple method and no need to mess with WebRTC streams at all. Most regular installs will support prebuilds that are built with each release.

Complete API for realtime audio input/output across Linux (native ALSA, JACK, PulseAudio and OSS), Macintosh OS X (CoreAudio and JACK), and Windows (DirectSound, ASIO and WASAPI) operating systems using C++ RtAudio library.

Decode Opus packets to 16-bit integer PCM or floating point PCM using C++ Opus library.

Encode 16-bit integer PCM or floating point PCM to Opus packet using C++ Opus library.

Audify.js - Play/Stream/Record PCM audio data & Encode/Decode Opus to PCM audio data Features

#Audify tutorial

[comicslascl]

Free adobe flash player for google chrome

#Free adobe flash player for google chrome for mac os x#

#Free adobe flash player for google chrome Pc#

#Free adobe flash player for google chrome Offline#

#Free adobe flash player for google chrome windows 7#

There are several of posts that have no real resolution on this, and none of them have a clear solution that works. I booted up and had this problem just ten minutes ago, and here’s the answer. It should also be named Google Chrome exactly, with a space in between Google and Chrome. Why do you think this is happening? So I get two chrome icons now on the doc. It’s great to flas users helping other users. Worked perfectly after quitting the Chrome window I had open with this post. It allows Doughboyz cashout i dog hoes OS X users to play Flash content both on apps and web sites. In fact, that is how the original app launcher functioned as well. It’s too bad khlicht didn’t complain about that trivial duplicate dock icons issue weeks ago. That means more to me than you komku-sp-usb.exe guess. It has to be in that folder for this to work see attached screen shot. However, I just 10 seconds ago rebooted Chrome, after which the drag-and-drop method you detailed suddenly worked :D thanks!!! Right-click on your newly created script and choose 'Get Info’.

#Free adobe flash player for google chrome for mac os x#

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[jarofstyles]

hey besties, pls do a football player Harry (soccer in case ur american lol) and physical therapist y/n !!

I know absolute shit all about football (soccer bc we are American) but we can give it a go!!! Plz don’t be mad I don’t know anything about it cause it’s ✨make believe ✨

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

—-

He was a little shit.

A beautiful, charming, irritating, little shit.

When Y/N has signed on for this team, being the medic was something she had been passionate about for years. Having her own accident and making it so she couldn’t properly play anymore, it was her mission to still be involved in the game so how. Y/N’s own injury and healing process had her become more and more interested in the profession, and here she was.

It wasn’t everything she had dreamed of, as nothing ever was, but it was good. She got to sit field-side every game, close to the action. And every injury she got first look at. She helped the guys with their stretches, their previous injuries and keeping them from Re-injuring themselves, taking care of them and making sure their physical shape was the best it could be.

In general? She was happy. But there was one man who was a thorn in her side and a pain in her crotch.

Harry Styles.

The man who decided it was his personal mission to follow her around like a puppy dog. Popping up in her singular moments of peace during game day. Texting her and asking about very, very small twists of ankles and giving her the ‘🥺 maybe you should come and look at it…’ whenever he did so.

Not to mention his complete and utter want to get into her pants.

Now it wasn’t as if she couldn’t handle a few sexual jokes. Y/N was a big girl and knew 99% of the time, the guys on the team knew their limit. And Harry? Harry, in reality, was a gentleman. Never touched her inappropriately, ever. But the problem was… she kind of wanted him to.

There was no actual clause against staff members and players being together or hooking up. Nope, just frowned upon. Maybe a slap on the wrist. However Y/N knew, she knew that the moment anyone caught wind of her potential affections for any team member or acting on it? It would end with everyone thinking she slept with them to get the job.

Y/N worked long and hard. Tireless hours for make sure these men were healthy, fit, and at their best. She wouldn’t sleep with anyone for any job, and she was actually respected by this team which was something a lot of women weren’t in this field. She could not and would not throw it away for a good dicking.

Fuck, did she want to sometimes.

—-

Harry had these hands. The perfect hands, in her opinion. Big, strong with thinner fingers. Long fingers. A good sized palm, not overly veiny, just perfection in male hand scales. Luckily (or unluckily, whatever way you’d put it) she got to handle them often.

“S’sore today, doc.” He winced, sitting on the table in front of her. Harry’s wrist throbbed. It was rainy, and it was usually a wreck when it was the perfect condition. The ache was annoying, and he knew she had a solution.

Her lips pouted softly as she gently took the hand in place, thumbing over the part of the wrist where rhe injury had occurred. She had learned a while ago where to press, how to rub and get it to lessen before she wrapped it up. “Yeah… old injuries tend to never let you forget.” She sighed, pushing her glasses up into her hair.

Harry never could get over how fucking gorgeous Y/N was. From her nose to her lips, the pretty sparkle in her eye, the curve of her hip… he was obsessed. Not to mention the fact that she was so gentle with him. So kind and sweet, though he knew he got on her nerves with his teasing sometime. She could handle it and he always tried to watch to make sure he wasn’t going too far, but he couldn’t help it.

He was a silly boy with a bit fat crush.

Y/N didn’t bite for any of them. Everyone had attempted when she first came on, testing the waters. Her pretty face was welcome to all the blokes in the team, and there was something incredibly attractive about a woman who could heal. Nonetheless, she never gave in to anything.

In Harry’s case, he knew it was different. He could see her smile at some jokes, see her get the bumps on her skin when he brushed her a certain way. But she avoided the eye contact. Avoided the touches. And it drove him mad.

Of course she wouldn’t know he had actual feelings for him because he was a giant coward most of the time. He hid his affection in the dirty jokes and the teasing squeezes of her waist and teasing. He was a thick skinned man but a full rejection form her would hurt.

Her soft fingers gently massaged over the wrist, making him groan. His head tilted back and he let it out, hissing slightly when she pressed too hard. “Oooh, don’t worry sweetheart. Y’know I like it to hurt a little.” His wide smirk made her roll her eyes huffing under her breath.

Y/N was not having a great day. She had been harassed by an Ex all fucking night over her new job. Making all the damn assumptions that she was getting ‘trained by the team’ in a much more vulgar way, and she had cried half the night. To say she wasn’t in the mood was an understatement, but she was trying.

Harry was not what she needed today, because it made her feel worse. Her blatant attraction to him made her feel guilty. She should be professional and leave it with. The way she had squeeze her legs tighter while he groaned didn’t help her case. The ugly words of how they’ only kept her around for a potential fuck’ was ringing in her head.

Harry though, he was a little oblivious. Her hands were so talented, and he didn’t watch her face for once as she hit a good spot again and he let out another remark.

“Jesus, that’s good. Do those magic hands work everywhere?”

That was the straw that broke her. It wasn’t his fault necessarily, he was just playing. But her eyes watered, hand yanking away as she turned from him, walking over to the bench. Trying to compose herself was hard as the tears burned so hard in her eyes, hands shaking slightly.

Harry startled, not used to that. She never flinched away like that, never ignored his remark and walked away. Usually told him to fuck off, rolled her eyes, something. But the energy in the room immediately shifted and he was uncomfortable. What had happened?

Cautiously, he cleared his throat and stood up from the bench, licking over his dry lips as he spoke again. “Uh… Y/N?”

“S’all I’m good for, right?” She muttered under her breath. Frantically wiping under her eyes she tried to focus on the paper in front of her but she could feel Harry approaching.

He furrowed his brow, not sure if he heard correctly. “Wha-“

Y/N whipped around fast, eyes teary and wet. “I said, that’s all I’m good for right? Only good for my hands and sex and all that pleasure you can get from me?” She hissed. “Only good for a romp in the sheets and a pretty face to heal your wounds and put on band aids. Only good to make you get off and feel good and then what? I’m left here with nothing.”

The tears left her, her hands shaking as she grabbed her bag. Harry felt his stomach drop. Never, ever had he wanted to make her feel like that. Her crying? That wasn’t something he ever wanted to see again. He felt like he had taken a ball to the gut, hard. Those eyes he adored being full of pain, full of tears was his own personal hell.

“Y/N… wait, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ he tried to follow her to the door, stopping abruptly when she lifted a hand up to him. Her stomping had made him nervous. Now she was leaving without talking to him and he felt like a complete dick. It was their normal teasing, but he had crossed a line.

“Don’t. Just…. Just leave me alone. I’m going home.”

—-

As much as Harry had wanted to chase after her, he had already made her cry once. He wasn’t risking it again.

The icky, gross feeling in his stomach followed him all day. He was gutted. Not only has he apparently crossed a line with someone he respected, he had a fucking crush on her. The man was convinced no other feeling was worse than a crush being angry at him. Even if it sounded juvenile to place it like that.

Harry liked Y/N. He never ever wanted to make her upset in any capacity, let alone feeling like a sex object or violated. He prided himself on respecting women. And he had fucking failed. He needed to make it right, and fast.

-

He had found her address. In her employee file, and he knew that was bad but he needed to check on her. Regardless of what happened beforehand, she was upset by him enough to leave and go home and he wanted to make sure she was genuinely okay.

It was an overstep and Harry knew it. He had to try, though.

He arrived at her door step with a box of cupcakes and some flowers. Gently kicking the floor, he heard the door open and his heart broke a little more.

Y/N standing in front of him with swollen eyes. She had been crying, seemingly a lot. And she looked upset still. Though he expected her to close the door in his face and tell him to fuck off. But she didn’t.

Instead, she broke into tears again, throwing herself into his chest. Her arms wrapping around his waist, he nearly tumbled over but righted himself as he startled. Quickly he found himself recovering, wrapping his free arm around her and holding her. He was able to maneuver slightly and drop the cupcakes on her entry table, flowers as well before having his arms free.

“Hey…. Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” He whispered softly, gently placing a hand on her back. Rubbing it up and down, letting her cry into his tee shirt. It was worrying. Whatever happened was beyond him, but he wasn’t going to let that take away from the fact he had added and made it worse.

“I’m sorry.” Her muffled response was sobbed into his shirt. “I’m sorry for yelling… and saying you thought those things, you were playing and I…” she pulled back worth tear streaked cheeks and Harry’s look of pure concern making her lip wobble. “You didn’t do it. It was… he kept sayin’ that all the team wants is in my pants, and you make me feel guilty because you’re so…. Beautiful, and I never slept with anyone to get this job! Never. And then he wouldn’t leave me alone-“ she hiccuped, looking up at Harry as he caressed the back of her head.

“Who, lovely? Who wouldn’t leave you alone?” He asked with a calm tone. Of course he wasn’t. Someone was harassing her. And Harry would fucking take care of it. It boiled his blood to think of someone making her feel less than.

“My ex.” She sniffled again, slowly calming. Harry had that quality, she thinks. “He-He broke up with me for taking the job. Said… said that I was going to be a personal whore for all of you. And not do my job.” She took a shuddery breath. It was embarrassing admitting this to him, but he had been on the receiving end for a meltdown that wasn’t his to fix.

“Well, can I tell you something?” He brought his thumb up to wipe away some of the sticky tears from her cheeks. “You arent. You’re no one’s whore. You’re a respected, talented and intelligent member of our staff. You so happen to be incredibly beautiful, which obviously makes people find you more bewitching… but I know that we all look at you as a professional talent. They may have tried their luck at the beginning but you laid down the law quickly and they all understood.” He whispered.

“Me? I was trying my luck, because you’re incredible. And I think you’re lovely. But that isn’t a conversation for now. Let’s make some tea, hm? Relax. I brought you some cupcakes. I need to properly apologize for being inappropriate to you. Regardless if it was a joke…”

—

He sat next to her on her couch. The poor girl was better now, washing her face and a mug of tea in hand while Harry had helped himself to a vase and put the flowers inside. Carnations. He thought they were pretty, didn’t know the name until Y/N had fawned over them.

“I’m sorry for freaking out on you.” She said softly, her big sweatshirt swallowing her up. Before Harry could interrupt, she put a finger up. “I know that you were just playing, Harry. I let you flirt with me like that. And I enjoy it.” She could feel herself get warm in the face. “If you’ve noticed, I let you get away with it. I enjoy it. And you didn’t do anything out of line. I was sensitive… I was still raw and I hadn’t had much sleep because he had blown up my phone and regardless he was telling me things he said in person over and over again. So…” Y/N shifted in her seat and used her sweater paws to bring the drink to her lips. “When you came in… I felt guilty for finding you attractive. For liking what you said to me.”

Harry sat for a moment, quiet. So she had liked it…. And felt guilty. Now knowing the context? It made sense. For the life of him he was trying not to hold in to the fact that she enjoyed it, but he couldn’t. It made him excited.

“Okay. That makes sense. Usually.. I do a better job at reading your physical cues. Sometimes I can see something isn’t the right thing to say because you’re tense already. But I was in my own world cause you were making the pain go away and I felt good. It isn’t an excuse, though.” He gently grabbed her hand once she set down her warm tee, thumbing over the knuckles.

“I felt like such a dick. I still do. You know that? And it isn’t because I’m attracted to you. But it’s because I didn’t think about the position I’m putting you in by flirting.” He moved a little closer. “I would never try and jeopardize your job. I’ve been blinded by my own feelings for a while and I was trying to feel it out but I didn’t think to think it was because someone else or a group of people would look down at you for it.” He frowned.

It was so unfair. They wouldn’t care if he slept with her. But they’d ridicule her for sleeping with him.

“I just want to let you know now as well… I wasn’t trying to come on to you to have a hookup.” He hummed. “The feelings I’ve got are genuine. Alright? They aren’t just too get into your pants. And I never want you to feel as though that’s your only purpose. Ever. You have so much worth, and while I’m positive you don’t need me to tell you that, I want tok anyways.”

He was unreal. She really thinks so. How did a man just… be like him. He was a fan favorite and had charm but behind the scenes he was even better than anything they said.

“Yeah. I think I was afraid. Because… I’m the same, you know?” She shyly admitted. “You’re charming and I didn’t want to admit I let your charm get to me, but it has. It has very much. And I like you. I don’t know what to do about it, but I think it’s only fair I admit it myself as well when you’ve put yourself out on the line.”

Harry’s grin grew, dimples pocketing in his cheeks. She liked him back. His heart was ringing in his ears, the shy little look into her eyes making him want to explode. Fucking adorable girl making him feel such intense emotions…. It was incredible.

Thank god. He thought he was going insane.

“We don’t have to do anything in the sense of our job right now. But since we both know… would you want to explore it? I would say privately. Just get to know each other better. Talk. Hang out. Cook food together… maybe kiss.” He smirked slightly at the end, making her let out a laugh. Her laugh soothed his Damn soul.

“I think I’d like that.”

——

Part II maybe? Who knows

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[nanowrimo]

Organizational Writing Methods for Messy Minds

Long-time Wrimo and soon-to-be published author Anna-Maria Ninnas is a Project Manager with a talent for organizing chaos into coherence. She has been test-driving software to find novel solutions for myriad rampant writerly woes and has put together this comprehensive overview to share some of her best technology-based tips with the community!

Sometimes, you need to put your creativity inside a box.

This couldn’t be more true for writers with a messy mind. The limitless possibilities of a blank page makes me freeze up. However, tell me to create a story out of the magnets on my fridge or using only Cards Against Humanity, and suddenly the limitations of these microcosms give me both a starting point and some rules to activate the brain’s problem-solving function. It takes a shelf to organize your stuff, and the same goes to your writing.

Which is why I love using digital tools and story progression ‘rules’ to find the right crooked mile to weaponize my hyper brain. Today, I’d like to share some of my tricks and digital workspaces with you.

For me, taming my buzzing brain always starts with Trello. I can just move the cards around, like I’m solving a puzzle, which is extremely satisfying and fun. By gamifying the untangling process, I find myself super focused with a visual aid for problem solving. It’s amazing for non-linear thinkers.

Here we have Chapter 6 of my current manuscript, Chamomile. I began the first draft by dumping everything that happens or could happen in this chapter. Just go crazy! If you have more than one subplot going on, you'll love this. For me, Plot A is my young character Chamomile being at war with a vengeful straw doll. Plot B, the village is celebrating a wedding. Later I will ‘braid’ these two plots together, to have the paranormal events of Plot A ruin Plot B by all means possible.

When figuring out the flow, one of my favorite techniques is Therefore/However. It helps to figure the logic and flow of events step-by-step, ensure that consequence always follows, and dictate tension! Sometimes I’ll break the rule with more than one ‘therefore’ consequence, or a ‘meanwhile’ when intertwining a secondary subplot. Keep it as simple as cause-and-effect if you’re still trying to figure out how something could happen and why. Eventually, you’ll have an outline that might or might not look like mine:

You can utilize colored labels for characters, section breaks, or even a green-yellow-red system for every card to track your passive, urgent and action voice.

But let’s say you’re editing or on a #JustFinishIt marathon. Well, your Google account already has all the tools to tame your focus in a single window.

Opening your blessed auto-saving Google Doc, by default you should find the holy trinity of organizing — Calendar, Keep, and Tasks.

I love Keep for its simplicity. If I’m on the go and come up with the perfect line, find inspiration or remember a loophole to edit later, I whip out my phone, save, move on. I use labels only to separate my novels, occasional hashtags.

The beauty of it is that you can use Keep while you’re in Docs. Since you’re guaranteed to get distracted, why not use it to your advantage by choosing what you’re distracted by — like scrolling your own notes in the sidebar instead of Pinterest! Scrolling social media is addicting because with so little movement we get infinite information, barely losing any calories — your brain loves the efficiency. Get addicted to your novel instead!

The search tool is not the only benefit. You can cut-and-paste entire sections that ‘don’t work’, but you like and might adapt elsewhere. Slap them there for safekeeping. You can write down a plot bunny, a topic to research, an important reference to keep in mind for Chapter 23, a new idea or editorial notes. Multitasking is a breeze. Pin the notes you find most relevant right now to the top. Notes you create while in the Doc automatically tags it as ‘related’, so later in Keep you can filter notes related only to that one chapter — which is why I separate my chapters doc-by-doc!

Google Tasks are amazing for editing. You can make the checklist as you re-read after a break, a list for each chapter, so you can later go back and — oh yes — tick the boxes off one by one, knowing exactly what you’re doing, to fix loopholes and add missing elements.

Last but not least is the simple genius of Calendar. If you have multiple plotlines, characters, or maybe even time-travel involved, then the overlapping schedules of Google Calendar—which, yes, you can drag and reorder—is gorgeous. Now, because all these methods are pick-and-choose on a need-to-untangle basis, I wasn’t using it in this chapter much. However, it did come to help when I was trying to figure out the time window just before Chamomile gets into trouble—again—when it was time to leave the bride home alone as a test of patience, to justify how she ended up babysitting instead. (Because you had to go into the storeroom in your wedding dress, Primrose, and now you have to wash the dress. What a convoluted way to break your ankle tonight before your wedding.)

And this is just a recent, as-I-do-it example of some ways I handle my comprehension of my own story! Would you have adapted these tools differently? While it may look over-complicated to some, for me it’s the only way I can tame my head when 'sit down and write' sounds impossible, and I know I’m not alone.

There are many free and subscription apps you can use to organize your writing. Try them, make use of tech! Find your carton ‘box’ that’ll unleash your creativity and help you build forts. Once you discover how that beautiful mind of yours expresses itself and find an analogous method to translate it, trust me, your craft will bloom.

Anna-Maria Ninnas studies anthropology and contemplates humanity through the lens of fiction. A project manager by vocation but extremely unorganized by nature, Anna-Maria tries to hack the art of writing with all sorts of cheats, methods and problem-solving techniques. You can read Anna-Maria’s tips for all the other chaotic creative minds on Medium. The novel Chamomile is coming out April 2022 no matter how messy or unfinished it is! Top photo by Ross Sneddon on Unsplash

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[the-iceni-bitch]

Killing Floor

Pairing: dark!Mr. Freezy x dark!fem!Reader

Words: 4389

Summary: You run into Robert Pronge one night and end up tangled in a scheme together.

Warnings: DARK so, so dark, please do not read if these type of fics upset you! non-con (erring on the safe side), dub-con (for sure), very graphic violence (m to f and f to m), death, gore, explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, hate-fucking, cavalier use of a handgun), SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: My first dark fic! It got away from me for sure but I enjoyed it. Please, please be mindful of the content you are consuming though, this could very easily be upsetting! Because of this, I’m only gonna tag my fellow Freezy hoes here, as I haven’t updated my taglist doc to include dark!Fics.

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!

You eyed the Mr. Freezy truck warily as you carried your garbage to the dumpster behind your apartment building. This was the third time this week you had seen it outside your place, and it was setting you on edge. There were hardly any kids in your neighborhood, so you didn’t know why it was hanging out here.

You cursed under your breath as the truck moved to the mouth of the alley, blocking your exit. You pressed your back to the wall behind the dumpster, right as a man exited into the alleyway from the bar underneath your place to smoke a cigarette.

A massive man in a white uniform stepped out of the back of the ice cream truck and walked towards the smoker, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves as he made his approach. He asked him for a cigarette before pulling a silenced pistol out of his jacket and shooting his target three times in the chest.

You schooled your breathing as you watched him drag the body to the back of his truck, trying to remain as still as possible. He stormed back into the alley to search for the shell casings, turning his back to you as he collected them.

Your legs were starting to cramp from your crouched position, and as hard as you were trying to stay still, it was getting difficult. You tried shifting your foot, but your ankle rolled in your heels and you let out a hiss. The killer straightened up suddenly at the sound, cocking his head as he turned toward you with a sneer on his face.

“Is that a little kitty I hear?” He jeered as he walked toward you, his voice thick with a Boston accent.

You stood up from your hiding place, preparing to make a run for it. He saw you tense up and lunged at you, wrapping a massive hand around your throat and pinning you against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs and cracking your skull against the bricks.

“Nice try, sweetheart, but I can’t let you go just yet.” He pressed his body against yours to pin you, his other hand brushing his stringy hair from in front of his glasses. “You have got horrible timing. To think I almost got out of here without getting a look at you, kitten.”

You just glared him as he moved his hand down from your throat to dip inside your blouse, grinning as he pawed at you as he buried his face in your shoulder, grinding his crotch into you.

“Think I’m gonna have a little fun with you before I let you go. You’re being so good and quiet.” He panted against your neck. Suddenly he stilled and drew his face up to look you in the eyes. “Why haven’t you called for help?”

He had relaxed just enough to allow you to move and you drove your knee between his legs at the same time you shoved your hand into his jacket and drew out his pistol, whipping it across his face and sending him sprawling.

“You cunt!” He spat, bloody spittle flying from the corners of his mouth as he moved to charge you again, stopping short when you pressed his gun to his temple. “Oh, you stupid little bitch.”

“I’m the stupid bitch?” You growled at him. “You wanna tell me what the fuck a Gambino hitman is doing so far outside of their territory?”

“Shit.” He hissed between his teeth as he eyed you warily. “You’re with the Genoveses?”

“That’s right.” You said, drawing back the hammer on the pistol. “Now answer my question.”

“Alright, alright!” He raised his hands in supplication, showing you his palms. “Fella in my truck has a father who owes Marks a good chunk of change, and y’know, he needed a little incentive to pay off his debt.”

“Marks gave you the ok to take out this hit? The mans getting bold.” You snorted, releasing the hammer as you pulled the gun back. “Lucky for you, I feel like leaving this to the bosses to figure out. Get the fuck out of here.” He stood up warily and reached for his gun, which you pulled back with a tut. “No, I’m gonna hold onto this for now. Maybe I’ll give it back later.”

Mr. Freezy growled as he brushed off his uniform and stalked back to his truck, grumbling under his breath the whole time. You just winked at him as he drove away, heading back up to your apartment to call this in.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

  You saw him again 2 weeks later at a sit-down. Marks came to make amends to your boss for overstepping, hoping to find someway show his remorse for sending his man into the Family’s territory without permission. You were perched on a stool in the back of the room when the two men entered, and a small smirk teased your lips.

Lombardo liked bringing you to meetings as a distraction. Most of his comrades assumed you were there for eye candy, just the latest piece of tail the boss was wetting his dick in, too stupid to care about. But the real reason he kept you around was for protection. He loved the look of surprise that came over his enemies’ faces when you pulled out your garrot.

“Great to see you Leo!” Lombardo said warmly, moving to give the man a kiss on each cheek before sinking into his chair, gesturing for Marks to join him. “Y/N, grab us some wine sweetheart. Does your man want any?”

“No, I don’t like my men drinking while they work.”

You moved to open the wine when a massive palm wrapped around your upper arm.

“This is the bitch I told you about, boss.” The killer seethed as he wrenched you around viciously.

“The fuck are you doing, Pronge?” Marks hissed, giving you a chance to grab the corkscrew and press it to Robert’s throat. “Benny, I apologize for my man’s behavior, he’s been foaming at the mouth about some broad getting the best of him and it’s made him a little erratic.”

Lombardo just laughed as Pronge released you with a duck of his head. You kept the corkscrew where it was, watching a thin trickle of blood run down his neck.

“Let him go, Y/N.” He said with a wave of his hand, and you moved to open the wine, pouring two glasses and bringing them over to the seated men. “My girl has a tendency to elicit that type of reaction. It’s one of the reasons I keep her around!” He gave you a pat on the ass as you headed back to your stool, your eyes trained on Robert Pronge.

He was glowering at you maliciously as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and his forearms flexing as he clenched his fists. You heard him growl from deep in his chest when you gave him a conspiratorial wink.

“You see my problem Leo, we can’t have Gambinos moving through our territory with impunity, as much as we can sympathize with the need to collect a debt. Fortunately for you, the boss is still soft on you fellas, so we’ve come up with a solution I think will work for everyone.”

“Ah, Benny, I can’t tell you how happy that makes me! Of course, whatever you need.”

“Excellent! We’ve got a little problem with one of Big Mike’s nephews. The kids an idiot and has been making some waves that are making it increasingly difficult to manage our operations, I’m sure you know the type.”

“There’s one in every family.” Marks said with a shake of his head.

“That there is. Anyways, Funzi wants us to deal with the kid under the radar. I’d normally send in Y/N on her own to take care of it, but as great as she is, the kid is surrounded by morons all the time. We also have a disposal problem. Funzi wants to make it seem like the kid ran off with some bitch, hopefully avoid a war, and we’ve heard that your man Pronge here is a disposal expert.”

“Oh, fuck no!” Pronge exclaimed. “I’m not working with this cunt!”

“You’ll do what I order you to do, or I’ll fucking end you, now shut the fuck up!” Marks roared at Robert, making him wince as he leaned back against the wall. “He’ll do it.”

“Glad to hear it.” Benny murmured, his nostrils flaring in anger as he gave you the signal to relax. “Let’s drink to our friendship while we let these two hash out the details.”

You stood up from your stool with a deep sigh as you moved towards your new partner. The man looked like he wanted to murder you, and you just gave him a wicked grin. He seemed to relax as you went over the plan with him, not really offering any notes, just grunting in acknowledgement as his eyes roamed over your body. You managed to come to a grudging agreement and made plans to meet in two days to carry everything out.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

  You had been waiting outside the club for 10 minutes when Pronge finally parked his sedan across the street. He leered as he walked towards you, eyes drinking you in. You looked extremely different than the last time he saw you, relaxed in a flowing dress that stopped mid-thigh and plunged almost all the way down to your navel.

“You always dress like a whore on the job?” He grumbled as the two of you headed to the entrance.

“Sure. You always dress like a clown?” You asked, wincing at the painful pattern on his shirt.

“Fucking bitch.” He muttered under his breath, not quite low enough that you couldn’t hear him.

“That’s right.” You said, your eyes roaming around the club as you looked for your man. “There he is.”

There was a group of young men in a booth at the back. The leader bent to snort a line of coke off the table before screaming for more drinks.

“What a fucking moron.” Pronge said from directly behind you. You could feel the suffocating heat of his body against your back as you stretched your neck. You sensed his eyes boring into you, searing over your bare flesh.

“Wait for my signal.” You muttered as you moved towards the dance floor, winding your way through the crowd smoothly until you positioned yourself in front of the mark’s table.

Pronge moved around the edge of the dancefloor as he kept an eye on you, you even danced like a slut. Your eyes were fixed on the mark as you gyrated to the music. It didn’t take long for the idiot to notice you. Your hands wandered all over your body as you swayed drunkenly, tracing the curves of your breasts and running over your neck languidly before dropping to your hips and teasing the hem of your skirt higher on your thighs.

He felt his dick starting to get hard as he watched you move, fighting the urge to pull you into an alley and fuck you until you couldn’t talk. His bitch wife had been refusing to put out for months, but ever since he first saw you in that alley, you’re all he could think about. He just wanted to shove his cock in that smart mouth of yours and shut you up for good. He had dreams about wrapping his hands around your throat as he ruined your pussy, marking your tits with his teeth as he split you open.

Fuck, he was so hard it hurt. He did his best to school his thoughts as he watched the mark move to join you. He felt himself tense as he watched the moron slot himself behind you and grind against your ass. His hands roamed over your torso until he was cupping your breasts, squeezing them softly as you dropped your head back against his shoulder with a moan, arching into his grasp.

Robert lost his patience and stormed towards the bathroom, slamming the door open as he strode inside. His did his best to control his breathing as he checked the stalls for occupants. He heard your laugh coming from the corridor and he scrambled to conceal himself, perching on top of a toilet and closing the stall door as you entered the bathroom.

You were giggling breathlessly as the idiot mouthed at your neck. He ripped the sleeves of your dress down your arms until your tits were exposed, and you sighed as your nipples pebbled in the air. Your mark bent to run his mouth over your chest sloppily as he fumbled with his belt.

Pronge lowered himself to the floor gingerly, splaying his palm on the stall door and pushing it open slowly. Your eyes shot open and did your best to swallow a hiss. Something must have tipped off the mark, because he straightened suddenly and turned around.

You growled at Robert and wrapped your arms around the mark’s neck before he had a chance to raise the alarm, squeezing hard enough that his oxygen was cut off. Your eyes bored into his as you choked the man, bringing him to his knees as you crouched behind him, your body curled tightly around his. Pronge’s cock was pressing painfully against the front of his pants as he watched you work. Your dress gathered around your waist and your makeup smeared all over your face as the muscles in your arms strained with the effort of strangling the man.

He finally stopped fighting you, and you moved to grip his head at crown and chin before wrenching your arms in two different directions, snapping his neck. You dropped the body to the floor and stood slowly to glare at Pronge, your nostrils flaring.

“You’re supposed to be in the alley.” You seethed as you pulled your dress back over your shoulders, moving to check the hall for any alarm.

“You moved faster than I was expecting.” He hissed, climbing one of the toilets to open the small window to the alley. He gripped a pipe running over the ceiling and lifted himself up enough to shove his legs through. He moved his hands to brace against the sill as he slid through the narrow opening, his broad shoulders just barely able to fit through the frame. He dropped into the alley and looked around, ensuring there were no witnesses.

It was only a few seconds before you were shoving the body through the window for Pronge to catch. He couldn’t deny he was impressed. You were stronger than you looked to be able to lift all that dead weight through a window 8 feet off the ground. He caught it easily and hauled it to the Mr. Freezy truck, shoving it in the back before moving back to the window.

He came back to find you with your legs dangling from the window as you slid through. You dropped softly on the balls of your feet, being careful not to roll your ankles as you landed in your stilettos.

Robert was leering as you strutted past him, your hips swaying suggestively as you made your way to the truck, wrenching open the doors and stepping inside. He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, pulling out slowly as you worked to wrap the body in plastic sheeting.

The two of you reached the warehouse in a little under an hour. Robert backed the truck into the loading bay and threw it in park before moving around to open the dock doors. He opened the back doors of the truck and tossed the body over his shoulder as you stepped out.

“Just head straight through.” He instructed you. You gave him a nod over your shoulder as you headed in. He grinned wickedly to himself as he watched your ass swinging back and forth in those heels, moving to follow you.

You found the old slaughterhouse easily and lowered a hook over the drain in the floor as he came to stand behind you, close enough that he had you on edge.

Once the hook was low enough, you moved forward in tandem. You ripped the plastic sheeting off the body as Pronge moved to wrap the hook and chain around the ankles. Once everything was secure, you stepped back to raise the chain.

Robert was still watching like a hawk. You did your best to ignore his eyes on you as you stood with one hip cocked, one heel tapping impatiently on the slanted floor.

Once it was at the required height, you stepped forward to drain the body without an ounce of hesitation, pulling a hunting knife out of your bag.

He growled from deep in his chest as he watched you work, leaned against the railing surrounding the killing floor, his cock starting to harden again as you stepped back, wiping your blade on a handkerchief.

“Almost forgot, Pronge.” You said, digging your hand in your purse and pulling out a pistol. You grinned at the panic on his face before flipping the gun in your hand so the grip was pointed at him. “This is yours.”

He took it from you warily and shoved it into the waist of his slacks, eyes still boring into you as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

“We’ve got some time to kill sweetheart.” He murmured as you moved to walk past him, heading back towards the loading bay.

Just like that he was on you, one giant hand wrapping around your throat as he slammed you against the wall, your head cracking against the concrete and your teeth snapping together painfully. You brought your knife up whip fast and pressed it to his throat at the same time he drew the gun from his waistband and pressed it to your abdomen.

“You’re just turning me on even more, kitten.” He leered at you, slipping the gun down the curve of your hip and drawing the hem of your skirt up your thigh with the barrel. He brushed the edge of his hand against your panties, groaning at how soaked you were.

He brought his other hand down and shredded the thin fabric easily, tucking the ruins in his back pocket before digging his fingers into your hip, gripping you hard enough to draw bruises. He sneered at you as he slipped the gun between your legs, running the barrel between your folds and teasing it against your clit, making you arch into him with a hiss.

“God, what a fucking slut you are.” He chuckled as he slipped the cool metal over your sex, your arousal soaking the steel as you writhed against it. “Acting so stuck up, and here this cunt is begging for me. Maybe I should fuck you with my gun, would you like that?”

He pressed the tip of the barrel against your entrance and you spat in his face, pressing the knife further into his neck and giving a mock sound of sympathy as a drop of blood welled at the tip.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing, fucker.” You ordered him, grinding yourself into the steel as another round of arousal seeped from your pussy as it clenched around nothing.

“Oho, you bitch. I’m gonna fucking ruin you.” He growled menacingly at you as you slipped your hand under the buttons of his shirt, popping them open one at a time at an agonizing pace as you kept your blade trained on his jugular.

“Promises, promises.” You tutted, the coil in your abdomen growing tighter and tighter as you dug your nails into Robert’s chest, drawing a moan from deep in his throat.

He pressed the gun against your clit violently and grinned as you fell apart. Your legs trembled as you release gushed over the now-warm steel. You bit your lip as you gave a low moan, your cunt fluttering as came down from your high.

“That’s right, whore.” He withdrew the gun from between your legs and brought it up to his face, running his tongue over the barrel and moaning at the taste of you. He tossed the weapon aside carelessly before bringing his hands up to wrench the sleeves of your dress over your shoulders, until it was pooled around your ankles.

“Just fucking look at that.” He murmured as his eyes raked over you. “No wonder the Genoveses keep you a secret.”

He brought one hand to dig painfully into your breast as his other slipped between your thighs. You removed the knife from his neck before slashing it across his chest in a quick motion, making him hiss as you ducked your head to drag your tongue over the wound, moaning as the metallic taste of his blood hit your tongue.

His backhand sent your sprawling, your teeth cutting the inside of your cheek as the knife flew out of your hand. You laughed darkly as you straightened back up, spitting the blood out of your mouth as you watched him strip off his clothes.

“I’m gonna split you open and break you apart, cunt.” He spat as he stalked towards you. His body had an air of menace about it, thick corded muscles stretched over his frame that was covered in scars. “And you’re gonna fucking thank me.”

You groaned as he pounced on you, his mouth moving to trace your breasts hungrily as his fingers dug into the small of your back. You sucked in a harsh breath and wrapped your fingers in his hair painfully as you felt him sink his teeth into you and he moaned into your soft flesh. He moved his teeth over your tits in a vicious trail, marking you with them.

“Fuck.” You hissed as a particularly deep bite had him drawing blood.

He wrenched himself up to glare at you and wrapped his hand around your throat tight enough that it was cutting off your oxygen.

“I don’t wanna hear another word out of that mouth of yours.” He growled, pressing you against the wall again. “I’d shut you up with my cock, but I wanna wreck that hole between your legs first.”

He slapped his swollen tip against your pussy once before spearing into you. He grinned wolfishly as he felt your throat vibrating under his hand and he bent to scrape his teeth over your jaw.

“God, this whore pussy is so fucking tight.” He growled into your ear. “You’re squeezing me so hard, you gonna cum already?”

He felt you stiffen for a beat and then you were quivering around him, a thin whine escaping from your tightened throat as you raked your fingers down the muscles of his back, drawing deep gauges with your nails.

He slammed your head against the wall hard enough to draw blood as your release seeped over his cock, leaking down the inside of your thighs as you fought the urge to pass out.

Robert released you suddenly, his hand leaving your throat as he pulled out. You only had a second to suck in a breath as he spun you around, tilting your hips just a bit before slamming into you again. You pressed your cheek against the wall as he plunged into you brutally.

You let out a series of small whimpers as he pinched your nipples harshly, tugging at them and pulling your tits away from your body. You fought the urge to yelp when he slapped them, making your pussy clamp down on his cock as he fucked into you.

“What a good little slut you are.” He hissed in against your hair, smearing his face through the blood seeping from your head wound. “Yeah, you love the feel of my big fucking cock inside you?”

The only answer you could give was a low moan, followed by a gasp as he wrapped a hand around to pinch your clit.

“That’s right bitch, cream all over me. God you’re fucking cock drunk, aren’t you?”

You just whined as he tweaked your clit one more time and you came apart, your legs giving out. Robert wrapped a hand around your thigh and drew it up to pin against your waist as your body quivered against him, your pussy milking his cock as your eyes rolled back in your head.

“Fuck.” He whispered as his cock twitched inside you and he sank his teeth into your shoulder as he came, blood welling into his mouth as you cried wordlessly and he shot his seed into you, coating your canal in thick hot ropes that seeped out over your thighs.

He kept fucking you through it until he started to soften, then shoved you against the wall violently, pulling away and spitting your blood out of his mouth.

He watched you closely as you turned around, doing his best to keep from hardening again as he looked at you. Your hips and thighs were covered in bruises that were sure to darken even more over the next few days. There was the trace of his hand over your neck that you were absentmindedly running your fingers over. The side of your face where he had slapped you was starting to swell, a shallow cut running along your cheekbone. Blood was leaking from the corner of your mouth and your chest was covered in angry bite marks, some of them bleeding.

You wiped your hand across your face as you stared back at him, wincing. He didn’t look any better. His chest was covered in deep scratches and claw marks, smeared with blood from the cut on his chest. A thin red trail was running down his neck from the shallow prick you had made under his chin. His face was smeared with your blood from where he had buried himself in your hair, and when he turned to collect his clothes, you admired the deep gauges you’d made in his back.

“That was something.” You murmured, catching your dress in mid-air as he tossed it at you. You flicked your head towards where the body was suspended and gave a deep sigh. “Where’s your bonesaw?”

A/N: Welp, I’m going to hell, but at least I’m taking you hoes with me!

Tags!

@stargazingfangirl18​ @starlightcrystalline​ @ozarkthedog​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @slothspaghettiwrites​ @sultrygoblin​ 

#natalie writes #fanfic #fanfiction #tw dark content #non con #dubious consent #non consent #drug mention #alcohol mention #violence #gore #mr freezy x fem!reader #mr freezy x reader #mr freezy x you #mr freezy smut #i'm going to hell #robert pronge #chris evans smut #chris evans #chrisevans #dark!reader

[orange-yarn]

stonegrot week day 7: the future

heyo, friends. breaking my accidental hiatus to actually participate in @stonegrotweek for once! 

for the record, this is set in my strange trails “good timeline” sequel? you might be missing some context if you haven’t read the behemoth that is strange trails. you might be missing some context even if you have read it. that’s fine.

I wrote most of this earlier this summer, but spent some time editing & tweaking this weekend. please note: it is still very much a rough draft, but I have miles to go before I can actually post any sequel stuff on ao3 so that’s okay. I just wanted to share something for the event.

WARNINGS: some light sexytimes (there is actually a steamier version that will live in my google docs forever). also, mentions of childbirth (not at all graphic).

anyway, on that note, here you go. a little glimpse into a stonegrot future, in approximately 1500 words.

-+-

Jen turns three, and a storm tears the sky in two. Deet watches the sky growing dark, shivers when the lightning flashes and the winds howl. Rian knows she’s weathered storms before, in this life, and in another. She’s lived, and she’s loved, and she’s lost. This time, though, in this storm— she breaks.

“Tell me what to do,” Rian pleads, holding her hands tight, trying to hold her steady, to hold her to this moment, to this life, to him. He’s seen her scared, he’s seen her lost and distant, but he’s never seen her so desperate, and he’s afraid. “I’ll do anything, Deet, I swear it. Just tell me what you need.”

“I need--” Deet breaks off, her breaths gasping, her eyes wild. She’s clinging right back, clinging to him, and he takes comfort from that. “I need to know it’s different this time. I need to know this is real. I need to feel it.”

“This is real,” Rian swears, pressing his forehead to hers, hoping his gestures might match his words, but feeling like both must be meaningless. “We’re real, Deet. You’re real.”

Deet pulls back and looks up at him, close enough that their breaths intermingle. One hand comes up to cup his neck, and she runs her thumb along his jawline-- the other drops down to his belt, and then traces lower. She holds his gaze and says, “Show me.”

Rian denied her once, long trine past, and he vowed then to never do it again. He blows out the candles, and lets Deet lead him to their bed. He helps her out of her dress, and then everything else. She returns the favor and then pulls him down with her, capturing his lips in a kiss that’s as sweet as it is desperate. 

They don’t speak. Rian tries to prove with touch what his words cannot say-- that she is precious, that he is devoted. He loses himself in the moment, in her, and lets the rest of it fall away.

-+-

The storms come again, later that summer. If Rian didn’t know better he’d think they were still down in the Sog, battening down the hatches and weathering another monsoon. Winds howl and branches break, rain pounds against the roof of their home, lightning splits the sky as thunder rumbles in the distance.

Deet is silent for three days, jumping at every noise, staring blankly out the windows when she can’t keep busy enough for her mind to be still. On the third day, she puts Jen down for his afternoon nap, and walks straight out into the rain. Rian catches up before she’s made it off the porch, and tangles their fingers together, squeezing her hand tight.

“Hey,” he says, trying to calm the thunder in his own chest, his hammering heart. It isn’t fair, he thinks. It isn’t fair that they unraveled the world where he left her, but she still sees those ghosts. “It’s alright, Deet. I’m here, remember? I’m here.”

Deet opens her mouth, but her words are still trapped, still lost. She squeezes his hand back, and he lets himself relax, if only a fraction. Then she shifts her grip until she’s holding his wrist, and presses his hand to her stomach, holds it there. There’s no sign yet of the new life inside her, just a voice in the back of his mind that whispers three. Rian swallows, and Deet tries to catch his eye. 

For a moment, his words are trapped too. He wraps his arms around her instead, pulling her into an embrace, and wishing he never had to let go.

-+-

“Let me get this straight,” Naia says, dropping her voice low-- so the others can’t hear them in the other room, and so Rian will hear her frustration. “Deet suffered a breakdown, the worst you’ve ever seen-- and your solution was to get her pregnant again?”

“That is--” Rian shoots a nervous glance out the door towards the others-- specifically watching for the flick of Grottan ears. So far so good, he thinks, as their friends chatter around Deet and her swollen belly. She’d put off telling them until this trip-- Rian thinks she might have put it off longer, if she wasn’t already halfway through her pregnancy and very visibly showing. He wonders if she was trying to save them both from exactly this sort of conversation. 

He clears his throat and tries again. “That’s not exactly how it happened. She wanted another childling.” He thinks of that night, of Deet pulling him back towards her, her voice husky and her eyes on him, and only him, as she asked him to stay. “This was her idea.”

Naia stares at him, hard, for the span of several seconds. She’s clearly still frustrated, but she’s looking for a new target. “You should have come down sooner,” she finally settles on, nodding a little to herself as she sinks into the argument, like a comfortable pair of boots. “I could have been checking up on them both.”

“They’ve been alright, Naia. Everything’s been fine.” Rian pauses, and sees something unfamiliar in Naia’s eyes, a level of concern he hasn’t seen often. “What’s the matter? Why are you taking this so hard?”

“I’m not,” Naia snaps, and just like that her eyes narrow and her brow furrows. “You’re my friends, Rian. I want Deet to be well. I want your childling to be well. And I want the two of you to be happy.” She still looks cross, but there’s an honesty there that he appreciates. “Would you fault me for that?”

“Of course not.” Rian can’t quite help it, he pulls Naia into a brief hug, and graciously she lets him. Once he’s pulled away, he clears his throat and asks, “For what it’s worth, Deet’s going to ask you to help her again, when the baby comes. You’re the only one she trusts.” Naia’s eyes flicker again, with that same sad expression. For a split second Rian almost, almost understands why, and just as quickly, that understanding is gone. “If you’re up for it,” he adds, a little uneasy.

“I’ll be there,” Naia promises, her voice soft, her eyes still sad. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

-+-

“No, she’s right….here!” Deet says, guiding Jen’s chubby handprint to her side, her tired smile growing wide as his face lights up with delight. “Can you feel that?”

“She kicked me!” Jen’s practically vibrating with excitement. With just a few weeks left, Rian can see the ripples of movement in the taut skin of Deet’s round, heavy belly as their childling moves within her, apparently feeling Jen’s presence, and making her own known. Jen gasps, his eyes going even wider. “Again!”

“She’s saying hello,” Deet tells him, glancing over their son’s head to lock eyes with Rian. Her smile is warm, and just for him. She turns back to Jen, and reaches out to ruffle his hair. “She’s excited to meet you.”

“Are you ready to be a big brother?” Rian asks, flashing a grin of his own as Jen scrambles for the fair-haired little doll Deet made. He holds her carefully, just the way they showed him. Deet lets out a soft chuckle, and Rian leans in to press three kisses-- one to the top of Jen’s head, one to Deet’s lips, and one to her belly. His family, right where he wants him-- close enough for him to reach out and hold them tight.

-+-

“Why was that harder?” Deet asks, winded and breathless and a little delirious, even as Naia lays the infant on her chest. “I’d already done it once, shouldn’t it be-- oh. Hello, baby.” Her tone changes in an instant, complaint and confusion falling away as she smooths a hand across wispy hair, blonde streaked with blue. The baby blinks up at them with deep brown eyes. She has Rian’s olive skin and teal streaked across her brow. She’s beautiful, and she’s quiet. “Why isn’t she crying?”

“Just give her a minute.” Naia has a towel in hand, rubbing at the baby’s back vigorously. “She’s had a big day.” She helps Deet sit the baby up, and rubs a little more, until the little one lets out a watery cough, and starts to wail. It’s the best sound Rian has ever heard. Deet lets out a sigh of relief, and Naia grins at all three of them. “See? All is well.” 

-+-

They name her Shoni. She doesn’t look much like his mother, but it still feels right, somehow, to pass on that name, to let it live on through his daughter. She’s perfect, from her long, dark lashes to each and every finger and toe, and she and Deet are both perfectly healthy. It feels like a miracle.

“Thank you,” Deet breathes, in the quiet of their room, with their childling nursing at her breast, and snow piling up outside their window. “Thank you, for reminding me.”

Rian doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. He just winds an arm around Deet’s shoulder, holding his girls close. Outside, the wind howls as the storm picks up, but for once Deet doesn’t shiver. She just sinks into him, her breathing calm and even. Rian knows that the struggle isn’t over, knows that more storms will come, that the two of them will bend, and may break. But for now, he presses a kiss to her hair, gentle, and grounding, and Deet closes her eyes, and rests. 

-+-

#the dark crystal #dark crystal #stonegrot #stonegrot week #day 7 #strange trails

[jingabitch]

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell - final

SUMMARY: when you were ten, taehyung adopted you and gave you a home. now that you’re eighteen, the sudden change in your scent perplexes and confounds him.

PAIRING: wolf hybrid!tae x human!reader (all bts members are hybrids)

WARNINGS: talk of ownership (reader is tae’s pet human) | daddy long legs syndrome | angst | suicide attempt | smut (finally!) | heat sex | unhealthy relationships

WORD COUNT: 20.5k (lmfao)

RATING: explicit

A/N: yay this massive fic is finally done!! when i first started this i thought it would be like a 15k oneshot and now it’s a g i a n t. thank you to everyone who read this, left lovely comments and feedback, and cheered me on! not quite sure what i’m going to work on next, but nevertheless I hope to have your support for future projects too. :)

also, shoutout to my wonderful betas @knjkitten and @xoxrinaxox for going over this for me! yall are the greatest 💕

btw the last part of this isn’t betaed because google docs sucks and doesn’t sync reliably most of the time lmao. i’ll work on finding a better solution but in the meantime i hope there aren’t glaring mistakes. 

series index

“The only recorded cases where a hybrid was able to move on from an imprint… is when the object of the imprint passed away.”

When the object of the imprint passed away.

You blinked at Namjoon in shock, unsure how to react. You certainly hadn’t been expecting such an extreme solution, and you hesitated audibly.

“Not that I’m suggesting that, of course,” he hastily reassured you. You nodded slowly, your mind still playing catch up. “We’ll figure out another way to manage it, all right? Don’t do anything crazy.”

“Okay.” You agreed, nodding robotically. It felt like your mind had short-circuited when he said that. You didn’t want to die. After all that had happened to you, you just wanted to live normally, safe and secure in your home.

Still, you couldn’t stop thinking about what Namjoon had said. Spring turned to summer, and then to fall, and it almost seemed as though you could forget about it entirely. Things were going well at home – you and Taehyung had settled into a new routine that was, if not ideal, comfortable enough, and you thought that he was coping fairly well with the imprint.

Now that everything was out in the open, it felt like an oppressive air had been lifted from the apartment. You understood now why Taehyung had done that to you, and while you still weren’t thrilled, at least you knew why. He was relentless in his attempts to show you his remorse, too, doting over you almost obsessively.

Gradually, you eased up around him, too. He was always respectful of your need for space. After the first night where you stayed in his room, you’d returned to your own room to think about how you wanted to proceed. All his cards were on the table now, and it was only fair that you figure yourself out. You still weren’t really comfortable being as close to him physically as you’d been before, and you were definitely leery of any sexual contact, both because of your traumatic experiences on the street as well as because of what Taehyung had done.

He handled your attempts to put more distance between the two of you with grace. You didn’t quite know whether he’d hoped to pick up where you’d left off, but you weren’t ready or willing to do that, and he didn’t push. That wasn’t to say that you weren’t acutely aware of the way his eyes would follow you around sometimes, almost predatorily, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Sometimes you could hear him sigh when you went into your own bedroom at night instead of his.

Still, he never made a move, and you understood probably better than anyone else that having an urge and acting on it were two different things. He couldn’t help the way he looked at you, wanted you, but he held it in as best he could to avoid making you uncomfortable. You saw, and you appreciated his effort. Even though he probably didn’t see it, you were trying too, to move past everything that had happened.

For Taehyung, though, this was like purgatory. Having you so close, just out of reach, unable to touch you, was driving him insane. It hadn’t been so bad at first, because his wolf could sense the sour notes of your fear and reacted accordingly, wanting to provide for you and comfort you. It was difficult maintaining his distance even then, of course, since his instincts demanded that he wrap himself around you to keep you warm and protect you from any threats. His wolf had never been the smartest, of course, failing to realize that it was Taehyung who was the threat.

As you started to ease up around him, though, was when the trouble truly began. When you looked at him and smiled, or didn’t flinch away when he accidentally touched you… every sign that you were finally starting to let your guard down around him, no matter how insignificant it seemed, was a win for Taehyung. He celebrated internally every time he noted a milestone, charting your progress silently. The unpleasant scent of your discomfort was slowly replaced by your natural, happy, fruity scent, the one his wolf found so alluring. Which, of course, meant that he was having a hard time keeping his instincts at bay.

If this was what the rest of his life was going to be like, it was going to be torture. He could handle it, though. He was determined to, for your sake – he would grit his teeth and bear anything you threw at him. He would not, under any circumstances, let his imprint ruin his relationship with you more than it already had.

---------------------------

Last year, when you were still happy and carefree, you’d noticed immediately when Taehyung went into pre-heat. It had been clear as day to you when you were attuned to him and paying attention – the increased neediness, the voracious appetite, how moody he had been. You’d broken up so many silly arguments between him and the boys, picked purely because Taehyung was in a bad mood.

This year, however, was different. Even though you’d started getting better with time, and Taehyung’s conscientious, careful treatment of you, it was clear you were still affected by your time on the streets. You sometimes avoided Taehyung’s gaze, ate as quickly as you could because you still remembered what it was like to be hungry, and slipped away from the table as soon as you were done with your meal. It was still difficult for you to sit quietly with Taehyung, since it required a level of comfort with him that you hadn’t managed to get back.

Even when you were with him, you were hunched over on yourself, cautious, trying not to do or say anything to anger him. Even though he’d explained why he’d kicked you out and took pains to assure you that it would never happen again, you couldn’t forget the memory of him grabbing your arm and dragging you out of his apartment, throwing you out like garbage. It made sitting with him a far more difficult and uncomfortable endeavor than it had been in the past.

When Taehyung started going into preheat, the boys were on tour, which meant you were too. It was an East Asian tour – a short one, just six weeks, kind of a warm up before the global tour that was going to start next spring. The tour had been, to say the least, stressful. Before, they’d been great fun. Who wouldn’t love the opportunity to travel around the world, getting to eat different things and be spoiled by the boys and their entire crew? While everyone had to work, your life had basically been one giant vacation.

Now, though, things were different. As awkward as you felt around Taehyung, you’d had to act normally in front of all the cameras that were perennially trained on you. That meant giggling, smiling, cuddling up to all the boys, especially Taehyung, and never letting your guard down. Because of the boys’ social media presence, even the hotel rooms weren’t always safe, and it had been exhausting.

Taehyung was equally stressed out, trying to act nonchalant in front of the cameras when you clung onto him and plopped yourself into his lap for cuddles every day the way you used to. He quickly became an expert at shifting you around to avoid making you uncomfortable when his body reacted instinctively, and on not overreacting to your proximity. No stiffening (ha), no sharp inhales, or wide eyes, or anything else that would tip off the fans, who were basically detectives.

Knowing his heat was coming didn’t make dealing with the symptoms of it as it approached easier. This was already shaping up to be the worst heat he’d ever had, and it hadn’t even started yet. His increased sensitivity to scent made it all the more difficult to pretend like he wasn’t affected by you, and as the tour dragged on (and his preheat symptoms intensified) he could also see you withdrawing, the stress of pretending like everything okay evidently too much for you.

When the tour finally ended and you were back at your apartment, you immediately made a beeline for your bedroom and shut the door after you, desperate for time to yourself after spending weeks on end surrounded by the boys. Humans didn’t get their own hotel rooms, after all. It just wasn’t in the budget.

You’d think that spending so much time basically glued to his side would have made it easy for you to realise that he was going into heat, but that wasn’t the case at all. The more time you spent without a break with him and everyone in the crew having to keep up the act, the more it took out of you, until you were barely able to take in anything from being so stressed out all the time. Being so occupied with controlling your own reactions to being so close to Taehyung meant that all your attention was focused on yourself, instead of on your surroundings, and the fact that he was acting weird barely blipped on your radar.

Taehyung looked sadly at the closed door separating the two of you and sighed. Even though things had slowly started to improve, you were still clearly holding yourself away from him, and as much as he understood why and wanted to respect your need for space, his impending heat was making things difficult, bringing his animal side to the forefront and making it harder for him to resist his impulses.

As embarrassing as it was, he steeled himself to have an awkward conversation with you about it tomorrow morning. It was, somewhat surprisingly, the first time he’d ever had to tell you that he was going into heat. In the earlier years that you’d been his pet, all the boys had worked together to keep you from being too exposed to that aspect of their unique biology, and the only difference you noted during his heat was that Taehyung spent a lot of time shut in his own room while the other boys took turns playing with you.

Later on, you figured out fairly quickly what was up, and cottoned on to the symptoms that his heat was approaching easily. By the time you were fifteen, you had established a comfortable pattern and he’d never had to explain to you in words that his heat was coming – you just always knew, based on how differently he acted and the time of year.

It was almost tempting to go back to the way they’d dealt with his heats when you were a child – pawning you off onto his brothers and struggling through it alone without having to have an overly intimate conversation was probably the last painful option. In light of last year’s disastrous heat, though, he figured it was only fair that he let you know what was going on.

He scrubbed his hands down his face with a groan. Why had things gotten so complicated? All he’d wanted had been some companionship, and now there was this huge problem staring the both of you in the face that no one had asked for. Not for the first time since finding out about the imprint, he wished that he hadn’t been born a hybrid.

-----------------------------------

You woke up in the morning in your own bed, relieved to be back in your own space after having to share a hotel room with Taehyung for six weeks straight. You hadn’t shared his bedroom since that night, months ago, when he told you everything, and he never pushed, a fact for which you were grateful.

Still, morning meant you had to get up and prepare breakfast, since Taehyung was all but useless until noon. Feeling rejuvenated from the best night of sleep you’d had in weeks, you pushed the covers away and headed for the bathroom. You’d established a new morning routine with Taehyung now that you weren’t sleeping in the same room anymore, that gave you a little more space in the mornings. You’d use the bathroom and prepare breakfast while he got ready, then he’d eat while you got ready.

Today, however, was different. You’d placed his breakfast on the counter and were going back to your room to get your clothes when Taehyung cleared his throat.

You stopped short right as you were about to round the counter and leave the kitchen, your eyes darting towards Taehyung. Had he made that noise on purpose or was he doing that stupid sleepy grunting thing he did when he didn’t feel like getting up?

He stared back at you, and you couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. Damn. So he’d made the noise on purpose then to get your attention, then.

“Y/n, I have to tell you something.”

That sounded serious. You moved back to where you were so that you were standing directly across the counter from him. “What is it?” you asked curiously.

Cue some more awkward throat-clearing and avoiding eye contact.

“Uhhh… you know it’s autumn now, right?” Taehyung started.

You raised your brow. “Uh, yes…?” Did he just want to talk to you about the weather? That seemed very unlike him, especially this early in the morning.

“So… winter is coming soon?”

“Yes… that is what autumn usually means.” You didn’t mean to get snippy with him, but his wishy-washy attitude was starting to grate on your nerves.

“Right, so, um… I’m going into heat…?” Taehyung mumbled his words directly into his plate, his shoulders hunched over as he cringed, not quite daring to look up and see your expression.

Your mind was racing, panic threatening to overwhelm you when you remembered what had happened during his last heat. You’d almost lost control then and let him have his way with you, and it was what had started this whole thing anyway. As you were freaking out, your heart rate picked up rapidly, and Taehyung could hear it even if he wasn’t looking at you.

“Hey, whoa, what’s happening?” Taehyung asked, holding his hands out placatingly. You took a deep breath and refocused on him.

“Are you okay?” his brow furrowed as he watched an array of emotions cross your face in quick succession.

“Yeah,” you said, though your voice was a little choked. “I’m fine. What do you want to do about your heat?” you asked, trying to calm your racing heart. Wild panic was definitely not the best way to go here.

Still eyeing you suspiciously, Taehyung told you, “Well, I’m sure Suga-hyung wouldn’t mind it if you stayed with him for a week or so…”

The suggestion was so unexpected that it completely wiped out your distress, replacing it with shock instead. You gaped at him, unable to find the words to ask him the question you wanted to ask.

Thankfully, despite everything that had happened between you Taehyung was still fairly good at reading you, and he hurried to reassure you. “Oh, don’t worry about all of that,” he said, referring to the imprint and the fact that during his last heat he’d basically gone feral for you. “I’m sure it won’t be too bad.”

You could see on his face though that even he didn’t believe his own words. Even though you appreciated his attempt to smile and muscle through it for you, you couldn’t help but remember how miserable and out of it he’d been during his last heat when you refused him, and your heart squeezed at the thought of him going through it again.

Seeing your clear doubt, Taehyung smiled at you, though it was a little strained and didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I- I’m not,” you immediately denied, your voice shaky and unconvincing.

“Okay,” Taehyung accepted easily, not believing you for a second. “Go get ready.”

You hesitated then. “Actually… I think I might stay home today.”

“Oh… okay,” Taehyung said, this time slightly dejectedly.

“I just started a new book,” you offered, a lame excuse to try and spare his feelings. He nodded, acknowledging your effort, but it was clear the conversation was over.

“Well… have a good day at work then,” you said, before escaping back into your room.

---------------------------------------

As much as you wished you could say you’d taken on the role of martyr quickly and decisively, the truth couldn’t be any more different. It took days of agonizing over the decision, days in which you stayed mostly alone in your room, pacing up and down despite Taehyung’s repeated pleas from right outside your door to come out and tell him what was bothering you.

You ignored him, knowing there was no way you could tell him. You didn’t know if Namjoon had told Taehyung about the rather radical solution that he’d found to the imprint, but you didn’t want to hear anything Taehyung said about it. The best case scenario would be that he told you insincerely that he didn’t want you to do anything rash, that he could live with it, even though you could see in his eyes and every fiber of his being that he just wanted to be free of the imprint. The worst-case scenario… you shuddered to think about it.

No, this was a decision you had to make alone.

On the one hand, you really didn’t want to die. After everything you’d already been through, why did you have to make the ultimate sacrifice for Taehyung? The injustice made you want to scream in anger at the sky, roll around and pound your fists against the ground. You’d never asked for any of this. All you’d ever wanted was to be a good pet, to love and be loved by your owner.

Then again – Taehyung hadn’t asked for any of it either. He’d gone into all of this with the same hopes as you, just wanting companionship and a cute pet. Instead he’d gotten arguably the short end of the stick, far more affected by the imprint than you were. After all he’d given you over the past nine years, was this the best way you could pay him back? By setting him free?

Even if you stayed alive, what kind of life would this be? Stuck in this uncomfortable situation without any way out, living indefinitely with Taehyung? It was torture for the both of you. Even though he tried to hide it, to show you a brave, unaffected face, and never made you feel bad about anything, you knew he was suffering. You could feel the way his eyes sometimes followed you around hungrily, even if he himself was unaware of the way he was looking at you. During the tour, whenever you’d glomp him in front of the cameras to play the role of an adoring pet human, you could feel him stiffen ever so slightly and hold his breath to avoid inhaling your scent. Was this really the way you wanted to spend the rest of your life, pretending to be a devoted and adorable pet when neither of you enjoyed it?

You’d never felt so trapped before. There were no other options for you – you were too old to be adopted again since everyone wanted babies, and in any case, you were sure Taehyung wouldn’t let you go. Having you somewhere in the world but away from him would be torturous for him given the nature of the imprint, and even in your darkest moments, when you resented him and wanted him to suffer the way you had and were continuing to, you wouldn’t wish that on him.

Why were your only options staying put or death? The unfairness of it all, the feeling that you’d been wronged by the universe, twisted your insides. You wanted to cry, but you’d cried so much over the past few days that your eyes hurt and you didn’t think you had any more tears in you.

The worst part was that you knew this was difficult for Taehyung too. He’d barely left the apartment in the days since his announcement, when he came back from the studio on the first day and found you in your room. Despite your best attempts to cry quietly, his keen hybrid ears picked up the sounds of your muffled sobs and sniffles and he’d been camped outside your bedroom door ever since, begging you to let him in, to tell him what was going on and let him help you.

His heartfelt pleas tore at your heart, and you found yourself sitting on the ground with your back against the door to be close to him even though you needed to be alone, in the same position you’d found yourself in almost a year ago – Taehyung begging to be let in, and you in tears as you refused, for his own good. The irony was not lost on you.

Ultimately, though, you knew the choice had always been clear. Between setting the both of you free and staying trapped in this purgatory, you’d always choose the former.

It didn’t make going through with it any easier, though. Even though you knew rationally that this was the best option, your instincts urged you to cling to life. You could always go back to the streets, hitch a ride out of Seoul and try to eke out an existence by yourself in the countryside. You knew how to grow fruits and vegetables from living with Taehyung’s parents, and you wouldn’t starve. As you lay in bed on what you’d decided would be the last night of your life, you allowed yourself the comfort of dreaming about what such a life might be like. One where you didn’t need to worry about where your next meal was going to come from, or pleasing someone else, where you could live independently, just you and your little garden.

You fell into a restless sleep that night, the tears you’d thought you didn’t have any more streaking your face.

-----------------------------------

When you opened your bedroom door the next morning, Taehyung, who’d been leaning against the door while he slept, fell backwards into your room. He jolted awake before he hit the floor and managed to catch himself, leaving you impressed, as always, with his superior hybrid reflexes.

“Good morning,” you murmured as he blinked up at you sluggishly.

“Y/n…” he said softly, his mind still foggy from sleep. “Good morning,” he replied reflexively.

“Did you stay out here all night?” you asked, squatting to bring your face closer to his.

He cleared his throat and nodded, and your heart squeezed from how cute he was when he’d just woken up. You wished you’d gotten to see more of it, and maybe in a different world, you’d have gotten a shot at a happy ending. Thinking about it too much kind of made you want to cry, so you started to stand up to go brush your teeth.

Quick as a dart, his hand snaked out to capture yours, and you looked down at him in surprise. He rarely initiated physical contact anymore, after learning about your trauma, but since he was still half-asleep, old habits came back to the surface. “What is it, Taehyung-oppa?” you asked, kneeling back down.

“I have to go to the studio today,” he rasped in his deep, early morning voice. You suppressed a shiver – as difficult as you found it to be around him sometimes, your body had never forgotten the initial attraction you’d had towards him a year ago, and when he was sleepy and pliant like this he almost seemed like a different person from the cruel man who’d forced you onto the streets.

“Okay,” you accepted easily. In truth, you didn’t understand why he was telling you this – you knew he had to go in. They were already preparing for the world tour next spring, and you were surprised that he’d spent the last two days camped outside your bedroom door when he should really be at work with the rest of the boys. “I’ll go get your breakfast ready,” you said, looking pointedly down at your hand still enveloped in his. He needed to let go if you were going to help him get ready.

“Wait,” he said, blinking the last of the sleep out of his eyes. Yesterday Namjoon had called him to ream him out for not turning up for practice for two days in a row, and even though he’d been understanding about the whole situation with you, knowing that Taehyung was always worried about you now, he’d still told Taehyung in no uncertain terms that he couldn’t just shirk his responsibilities to his bandmates and fans like he’d been doing for the past few days. Taehyung had wanted to stay home with you because you were so clearly upset about something, but he’d been neglecting his duties at work long enough.

“I- I know you’re upset about something,” Taehyung began haltingly. He didn’t know exactly what it was, since you’d refused to tell him, but since it had started right after he told you about his heat, he could pretty much guess that it was related to that. Approaching it, however, was difficult since he didn’t know how to go about it tactfully, especially in the mornings, since it took so damn long for him to get his act together. He really should have written this down last night.

“Y/n…” He stopped, swallowed, then started again. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

That caught your attention, and you froze, staring at him with wide eyes.

“I know you hate this imprint,” he choked out, and the words felt like sand leaving his mouth because of how difficult it was to express thoughts that went so directly against his instincts. “I don’t like it either, and I promise you that I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to do, okay? You’re safe here.” Even though he meant well and was trying to reassure you, his admission that he didn’t want the imprint either made you all the more certain of your decision.

“I understand,” you said, reaching out to pet his ears soothingly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” he accepted. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? Promise. Even if it’s about the imprint.” His gaze searched yours imploringly, like he didn’t quite know how to reassure you of his sincerity.

“I know,” you agreed. You really didn’t agree with that, but you’d say anything to get that hangdog expression off his face.

He stared at you for a couple more seconds, then let you go with a nod. “All right, then,” he said, looking slightly embarrassed as you fled to the bathroom.

You blinked back tears as you made his breakfast for the last time, feeling Taehyung’s gaze boring into the back of your head from where he sat at the counter waiting for you to finish. He was still worried about you, you knew, though he wouldn’t pry anymore since you’d shut him down. You both loved and hated him for that.

When you set his plate down in front of him, you tried not to look at him because you were barely keeping it together as it was. Then you realized that this was probably the last time you would have the opportunity to and swung your gaze from the countertop to his face, taking it all in greedily.

Taehyung was still looking at you, and when you looked back, your eyes met, which you were completely unprepared for. Your jaw dropped slightly in surprise as he stared intently at you, and in that moment, you felt stripped bare for him, like he was looking effortlessly into your soul. It was too much for you, and you averted your gaze out of embarrassment, hating how vulnerable he could make you feel. Before, you hadn’t minded it, had thought it was a sign of your affection and trust for each other, but after your security in this home had been stripped away, it just scared you.

“Do you want to come with me to the studio today?” Taehyung asked. He was still watching you with that unsettling, piercing gaze, and you shook your head without looking back at him.

“Are you sure, Y/n-ie?” Something was off, Taehyung could feel it, and his instincts were ordering him to keep you by his side. Imprinting wasn’t magic, but it meant he was always hyper-attuned to you. With his hybrid senses, he could hear the erratic beating of your heart, smell the salt of the tears you tried so hard to keep at bay, see the distress written clearly across your face. There was clearly something bothering you, and it killed him to know that he was the cause of it and that he’d ruined the trust between the two of you so much that you were too afraid to talk to him about it. He’d always been there for you, and the fact that you weren’t letting him in now cut him up inside.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile as you looked back at him.

His brow furrowed in concern. “Okay, I’ll call Namjoon and tell him that I can’t come in today either then.” He reached for his phone, sitting next to his plate on the counter.

“What? No,” you protested, snatching the phone before he could grab it. “You need to go to work; I know Namjoon-oppa will be mad if you skip again.”

Taehyung’s frown deepened. “I don’t want to leave you alone when you’re like this,” he objected.

“Tae-oppa, I’m fine. Please just go to work,” you begged, using the old nickname you had for him for good measure. You hadn’t called him that since before he kicked you out, and you could see him softening in front of you.

“Are you sure?” he asked, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at you – not that he needed it, with his enhanced wolf vision.

“Yeah.” You nodded, smiling tremulously at him.

“Okay. I’ll see you when I get home then.” Taehyung got up and got ready to leave, and you followed him to the front door. As he was putting his coat on, you sidled up to him and wrapped your arms around him in a hug, the first one you’d voluntarily given him since he’d found you at Hangang Park.

“What’s all this?” he asked, bemused, even as his arms wrapped around you. His wolf just couldn’t resist, and you were so cute, nuzzling into the hollow between his collarbones like you were scenting him. Humming with pleasure, he dropped his head to the top of yours, sniffing your hair.

“Nothing,” you said, your voice slightly muffled. You pulled back a little so you could look up at him, and for a second, your faces were so close that he could have just dipped his head slightly to kiss you. The temptation was overwhelming, especially since you’d initiated the hug, but Taehyung held it together – just barely. You squeezed him a little tighter and it took everything in him to stay still, praying that you wouldn’t notice the erection starting to form in his pants.

Obviously, you did notice it, since it was pressed into your belly, but you graciously ignored it, knowing that he couldn’t help it. Knowledge of your impending mortality made such things seem less significant, anyway.

When you finally released him and took a step back, he blinked for a moment, slightly bereft. Without your warmth pressed against him he felt a little cold, even though he knew it was ridiculous. Still, he had to leave, so he brushed your hair behind your shoulder fondly and asked, “Are you sure you’ll be okay at home?” one last time.

“Yes,” you stressed, pushing him gently out the door. “I’ll be fine, I promise, Tae-oppa.” He still looked a little dubious, but you’d distracted him by calling him that again, and he left with a small smile on his face.

With the door firmly shut behind Taehyung, you leaned against it and sank onto the ground. Just getting him out of the house had been exhausting, and you didn’t know if you actually had the strength to end your own life. Your breath shuddered out of your lungs and you tipped your head back against the door.

Even though you were now alone, you were afraid to give in to your emotions because you didn’t know if you would have the courage to go through with it if you let the fear take over. Instead, you mechanically got on with your morning routine, washing the dishes and tidying up. You avoided the bathroom because you knew what was there.

Since Taehyung had been having trouble sleeping without you in his bed, he’d gotten a prescription for sleeping pills which he kept in the bathroom cabinet. He didn’t use them all the time, you knew, just the nights that were particularly bad. If you thought hard enough, it would be easy to connect the times when he couldn’t sleep to your ovulation cycle, but you were determined to ignore that.

It wasn’t until hours later that you opened the bathroom cabinet and found the pills. You reached into the cabinet, your hands trembling, and closed your fingers around the small bottle. Your legs wouldn’t work properly when you went back to your room and shut the door, and it felt like every muscle in your body was already stiff.

Looking down at the bottle in your palm, you bit your lip to prevent tears from leaking out again. You rolled the container back and forth a little, looking at the sticker with Taehyung’s name on it. The recommended dose was half a pill to one.

Breathing out heavily, you steeled yourself to open the bottle, but you couldn’t do it. With a sigh, you placed it down on your bedside table, staring at it. The little orange bottle with a white cap sat innocently where you’d left it, like it was mocking you.

-----------------------------

Something had been off all day, Taehyung could feel it. Obviously, there was no supernatural aspect to the imprint, but he’d been living with you for almost ten years now, and you weren’t as good at hiding your emotions as you thought you were. Worrying about you consumed almost all of his focus, and he was a complete mess during dance practice – even Namjoon was doing better than he was.

After the third time Hoseok had stopped practice to yell at him, Namjoon intervened, taking Taehyung aside to talk to him in the hallway.

“Tae, what’s been going on with you recently? You skip out on practice for two days, and now it’s like you’re not even here when you are.”

Taehyung shrugged, averting eye contact. He was ashamed of how he was acting, because he knew it was stressing his brothers out too when they were already freaking out over the comeback tour, but he just couldn’t get you out of his mind. “I’m sorry, hyung. Y/n’s been acting a little strange recently, and I’m just worried about leaving her alone,” he explained.

Namjoon’s expression softened. “Do you need to talk about it?” he offered.

“I don’t know. She’s been acting a little strange since the tour ended, and after I told her that my heat is coming up…” he blushed. Hybrids weren’t shy when talking about their heats – it was a normal bodily function for them, after all – but since Taehyung had the imprint, any mention of the heat implied that he couldn’t stop thinking about the way his pet human smelled and tasted. Even though he was coming to accept that the imprint, and by extension, his desires, were not his fault, it was still awkward and embarrassing for him to talk about it. He hadn’t told anyone about it other than you, so only Namjoon knew.

“Yeah? What’s been going on? Maybe she’s just stressed out about it,” Namjoon tried to reassure his brother. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know…” Taehyung pursed his lips in thought. “She spent the last couple of days locked up in her room and I kept hearing her crying. She wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, though.”

Namjoon was starting to get a sinking feeling in his stomach. Was this related to the conversation he’d had with you so many months ago?

“And she was really weird today, too. You know she gave me a hug?” Try as he might, Taehyung couldn’t stop the dreamy note from entering his voice. As uncharacteristic as it had been for you, he’d missed your physical affection so much that he couldn’t bring himself to complain about it.

“That sounds nice. Why are you worried then?” Namjoon prompted.

“I don’t know. She just seemed really upset even though she was trying to hide it.” Taehyung frowned. “I even offered to stay home again to keep her company, but she basically forced me to leave the house.”

His jaw tightening, Namjoon’s mind raced. “You should go back to check on her if you’re worried,” he told Taehyung.

“What? But practice and everything, I can’t just abandon you guys-” he protested.

“Please, as if you’re helping us out in your current state.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Go, I’ll cover for you with the others.”

“Okay. Thank you, hyung,” he said gratefully before running down the hall to the elevator.

------------------------------------

You picked up the bottle again, shaking it a little and hearing the noise as the pills rattled against the container. “Okay, now or never,” you psyched yourself up with a deep breath. Of course, you’d rather it be never, but you pushed that thought out of your mind. This was for Taehyung, you reminded yourself.

The bottle cap had a child lock on it, which was truly ridiculous when you stopped to think about it, because adult humans were definitely more able to open a stupid bottle cap than a hybrid child was. If they were going to restrict access to prescription medication, a human-proof lock would be better.

Then again, you mused sardonically, most humans were smart enough to know not to break into medicine cabinets and eat whatever they saw, so it was probably seen as redundant.

Opening the bottle easily, you turned it over and emptied the contents into your hand. You dropped the bottle onto the covers next to where you were sitting and reached for the glass of water you’d prepared on your nightstand. Your hand trembled so much, though, that you had to work extra hard to get a good grip on the glass, and even then, you spilled a bit on the bed.

Slowly, you unclenched your hand and stared at the pills. Closing your eyes, you tossed them all into your mouth, then brought the glass of water to your lips. Come on, you thought to yourself. It would all be over soon – all the suffering that you’d experienced in the last year. Just a couple of minutes, and you would slip into blissful sleep. No more nightmares, no more trauma…

Now that you’d decided on this path, the knowledge that you wouldn’t need to continue living such a painful existence was almost a relief to you. Finally, you tipped the glass a little so water filled your mouth and swallowed. You finished the water before setting the glass back on the bedside table, then stretched out so you were lying on your side, facing the door.

Although it was too soon to feel the effects of the sleeping pills, you felt an incredible wave of peace wash over you, and you closed your eyes. Soon, all of this would be over. You’d be free, setting down all your burdens.

Right before you faded out of consciousness, you vaguely registered your phone vibrating against the bedside table, but your eyelids were too heavy to lift, and it felt impossible to raise your hand to pick it up to see who was calling.

----------------------------------------

The sense of dread and discomfort Taehyung felt brewing in the pit of his stomach only intensified as he drove back home, and by the time he parked his car, the unease bordered on panic. He’d been attempting to call you the whole time, but you hadn’t picked up, which was strange for you – you’d not been far from your phone ever since you’d gotten your first. It was just lucky that he hadn’t been pulled over or gotten into an accident from how poorly he’d been driving, his gaze constantly flicking from the road to his phone.

He raced up to his apartment as quickly as possible, bursting through the door like a madman. Every second felt like life or death, and he’d almost broken the elevator buttons from pressing on it so hard so many times. “Y/n?” he called, his voice echoing through the apartment the moment he stepped through the door.

There was no response to break the ominous silence, only the deafening sound of his heart pounding in his ears. Kicking off his shoes, Taehyung walked quickly through the corridor, peeking into the kitchen and living room as he passed them to make sure you weren’t in either of those rooms.

“Y/n?” he called again, his voice starting to sound slightly manic. He hoped more than anything that you would appear from around the corner and laugh at him for getting so worked up over nothing, but there was no sound or movement. Your bedroom door was shut, so he knew you hadn’t left the apartment, because you never shut it after you.

Stopping in front of your room, he knocked on the door. “Y/n, are you there? Can you let me in, please?”

Silence.

“Y/n?” He knocked again, a little more insistently.

When there was still no response, he opened the door hesitantly and peeked in. “Y/n?” When he saw you lying on your bed, he relaxed for a moment, thinking that you were just taking a nap. In fact, you looked so peaceful like that, with all the lines in your face from that tense expression you always wore around him smoothed out.

He stepped into the room and realized only then that something was wrong. You were breathing too slowly, and your heart rate was sluggish. Looking closer, he saw the empty pill bottle lying on its side next to you and his panic rocketed through the roof.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, rushing to you. “Y/n? Y/n!” he tried to shake you awake, to no avail.

“Shit,” he hissed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to prop you up. Your head lolled listlessly. “Y/n, please,” he begged, tears pricking at his eyes that he tried to blink away. He had to keep it together, or you wouldn’t make it.

Setting you back down on the bed, he called the ambulance hotline. The moment he heard the click that meant someone had picked up, he started explaining what had happened, the words spilling out of him in his urgency. “My human, she’s swallowed a whole bottle of sleeping pills, I don’t know what to do, I—” His voice broke on a sob.

“Sir? Please remain calm. I’ll send an ambulance; can you provide your address?” The person manning the hotline’s soothing voice helped Taehyung, and he took a deep breath as he told her the address.

“An ambulance will be there ASAP. In the meantime, it would be helpful if you could induce vomiting to start removing the drug from her system.”

Taehyung tossed his phone onto the covers and pushed his sleeves past his elbows. “Induce vomiting…” he muttered to himself, his hands hovering uncertainly over your face. “Uhhh…”

Gingerly, he slid one hand under your neck to hold your head off the mattress slightly and winced as he stuck two fingers in your mouth, gently probing at the opening of your throat. No response.

“Fuck, come on…” he said, voice strained as he pushed a little harder and felt you gag. Encouraged, he did it again, and it felt like your whole body convulsed as you started throwing up.

“Gross,” he cried, unable to retract his hand fast enough. He tilted your head so you didn’t choke on your own vomit, and it fell onto the floor instead. He wrinkled his nose – the smell was awful, especially to his enhanced hybrid senses – but he could see the pills lying among the mess, and he sagged in relief, bracing his arms against the bed on either side of your prone form as he bowed his head, his forehead just barely touching your stomach.

And then the paramedics arrived, and everything was a blur of motion that Taehyung could barely keep up with. You were lifted onto a stretcher and someone was wiping off his hand, then he was following the paramedics out while answering their questions about you. Turns out, he didn’t know a lot about what you’d been doing before you decided to do this.

On the way to the hospital, he sat in the ambulance clutching your hand, hovering anxiously above you and watching your face for any sign of discomfort or pain. There was none, of course. You were still out cold, but watching you made him feel useful, and reassured him that you were still breathing and okay. His wolf was frantic, and it was difficult to keep his baser instincts under wraps when his control was so frayed by his emotional state, but he had to, for your sake.

It became almost a mantra for him during the traumatic hours when they wheeled you off into the hospital, pumped your stomach and gave you other drugs to get the sleeping pills out of your system. He reminded himself sternly that he could not give in to his animal instincts, rip into the doctors and nurses who were causing you pain and growl at everyone to leave you the fuck alone. It had been easier staying in control of his animal side when there was a task at hand that he needed to focus on to help you, but now that there was nothing to do but sit around, he felt like he was going crazy, the two sides of his psyche at war with each other.

He sat in the corridor right outside the room you were in, listening to the sounds coming from within: the beeping, the yelling from the doctor and nurses as they tried to save your life, and worst of all, the revolting sounds that came with you having your stomach pumped. You regained consciousness briefly during that time, and your cries of distress and pain were agonizing to listen to. Unaware that there was nothing he could do, his wolf side snarled and begged for him to help, to snatch you away from the people who were torturing you. He bowed his head, sat on his hands and cried along with you.

It wasn’t until you were safely in your own room in the hospital, cleaned up and asleep in your bed with an IV drip in, that Taehyung could finally relax, knowing you would be all right. He texted Namjoon to tell him what had happened, then just sat with you, waiting for you to wake up.

---------------------------------------

The room was dark, you noted sluggishly. The door was open, and some light spilled in from the hallway, but the ceiling was barely lit with a dim yellow. It was kind of soothing, you thought as your eyes slid shut again. Everything felt heavy and ached, so you didn’t bother trying to move. It was easier to just go back to sleep.

The next time you woke up, the room was bright again, and when you tried to lift your hand to your face to block out the light, you found that you couldn’t. This was concerning until you turned to see Taehyung, slumped on the bed with his cheek resting against your hand.

You wriggled your fingers a little, just to check that you still could, and the motion woke him up. He blinked slowly, his vision blurry for a second, until he realized where he was and jolted upright. It was probably the fastest you’d ever seen him wake up, and you wanted to make a dig at his expense about it, but when you tried to speak, you realized how dry your throat was.

“Water,” you croaked, and Taehyung leapt to do your bidding, bringing you a paper cup filled with water. You reached out to take the cup from him, but he refused to hand it over, helping you sit up with one arm while feeding you the water with the other. When the cool liquid touched your lips, you sucked it down eagerly, unaware until that moment how very thirsty you actually were.

“Slowly,” Taehyung cautioned. Ignoring him, you drained the cup and asked for more.

When you’d had three whole cups of water, he helped you find the remote control for the bed so that you could sit up comfortably. The blanket pooled around your hips and Taehyung continued fussing over you, making sure you were comfortable.

“I’m fine, oppa,” you said, batting his hands away gently. He looked up at you, his face so close to yours, and the anguish you saw in his eyes took your breath away. “Oppa… are you okay?” you asked, cradling his face with your hand. You swept your thumb across his cheek as his eyes closed. He was supposed to be okay… that was the whole point.

“I should be asking you that question,” he forced out, his voice thick with emotion as he sat back down heavily. “Y/n… why did you do it?”

Swallowing hard, you looked away from him and refused to say anything.

“Y/n, please…” he begged. “I want to help you. That’s all I want.” He leaned forward, trying to meet your eyes, but you slid your gaze away again. “If you won’t talk to me, will you talk to a psychologist or a therapist?”

Your eyes widened in panic and you turned back to face him so fast he thought he might have heard your neck crack. “I can’t talk to anyone else about this!” you cried out. “You know we can’t tell anyone about the… the…” As you realized what you’d almost blurted out, you clammed up, clutching at your blanket in distress as you lowered your gaze.

“Is this… about the imprint?” Taehyung asked, his voice shaky now. You didn’t reply, but the damage was already done. “Y/n, I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice choked. He sniffled and blinked away tears. “I know this has been difficult and unfair for you,” he continued. “If you want to leave me, you only have to ask, okay?”

Fuck. This had never been the plan. Now he thought there was something wrong with you and wanted to get rid of you. Of course he did – who wanted a defective pet who tried to commit suicide? “You want me to go?” you asked in a small voice. “Where- where would I go?”

“Will you be happier if you leave? I just want you to be happy, baby. You can go live with my parents, or I’ll get you your own apartment somewhere, or if you want--” He gulped. “I can see if anyone else wants to adopt you. You’re so cute and pretty, I’m sure lots of hybrids want to adopt a human like you.” The words felt like ground glass, but he was sincere in his offer. If it would help you, he would give you up entirely, despite the personal cost to him. Even saying the words had his wolf going crazy, begging and whining for you to stay, but he remained resolute, refusing to give voice to his feelings. This was about you, and it would remain about you.

Would you be happier if you left? Honestly, you didn’t know. You looked up at him and bit your lip thoughtfully. The imprint had been difficult for you to deal with, yes, and he’d ruined your trust in him by kicking you out. But he’d been trying to make up for it ever since, and it had been about eight months of him reining in his instincts and being patient and kind. You were more than aware that his insomnia was caused by you, and it probably wasn’t the only problem that you were causing in his life, yet he’d never made you feel bad.

And—most importantly, he’d saved you. You were sitting in this hospital bed, well and alive, because of him, and he was still trying to help you. Would you ever find somebody who cared about you as much as Taehyung? Who else would go to the same lengths to make sure that you were safe and happy?

Even now, you could see how difficult it was for him to make you that offer. Taehyung was notoriously bad at hiding his feelings, after all, especially from someone as familiar with him as you were, but even without seeing his distress from his body language, you knew that it wouldn’t be easy for him if you left his life. Yet he’d offered, and he was being sincere about it.

Taehyung was one in a million, and you’d lucked out by having him as your owner. He’d been exemplary other than his one slip, and as awful as that had been, you could sort of understand why he’d done it. Besides, hadn’t he made up for it?

Before you knew it, you were shaking your head. Slowly at first, then increasingly vehemently. You didn’t want to leave him, you realized now. Yes, things had been difficult recently, but he’d done his best to make up for it, was truly remorseful about his mistake, and you could feel how much he cared for you with everything he did. For the most part, you really liked being his pet, and you would miss him if you left.

“I don’t want to leave,” you said in a small voice.

Taehyung sagged in relief. “Okay, baby,” he said, reaching out to stroke your hair. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Trust me. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you ever again.”

His promise made you feel like everything was going to be all right, because you knew Taehyung would move heaven and earth for you.

------------------------------

When you were discharged from the hospital a few days later, Taehyung was right there to pick you up, wheeling you out in your wheelchair – despite your protests that you could walk, thank you very much – and attempting to help you into the car. Although you slapped his hands away and got into the car unaided, you couldn’t stop the small smile that stole across your face at how eager he was to coddle you.

Taehyung had barely left your side during the time you’d been in the hospital, and they’d given him special permission to stay past visiting hours because he was your owner. He’d only gone home to shower and change, and to bring you some proper clothes to change into when you were discharged. Your near-death experience had changed your entire outlook on the situation you were in, and you were more open with him now than you’d been in the past months, ever since he rescued you from the streets. Taehyung, for his part, reveled in your new, easier relationship with him, smiling so much at you that you wondered how his cheeks didn’t ache.

You were glad to be home, honestly. Hospital food sucked and you craved the comfort of being back in familiar surroundings. Taehyung looked over at you after pressing the button for the elevator, and you smiled back at him. “You doing okay?” he asked, just to be sure. He’d been doing that a lot over the past couple of days – asking after you periodically, like he just had to make sure that you were still okay.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you told him, squeezing his arm. You knew it had scared him when you suddenly – or so it seemed to him – decided to take your own life, with very little warning. Since you didn’t have any plans to tell him why you’d done it, not being willing to throw Namjoon under the bus when you knew he’d meant well, you’d made up your mind to reassure him that you didn’t have any plans to try again. You were quite happy being among the living.

When Taehyung opened the front door and let you in, you about leapt out of your skin when you saw the other boys standing in the entrance. “Y/n-ie!” Jimin cried, rushing to give you a hug. Confused, you stood still and let him rub his cheek against your temple, staring with wide eyes at the boys over his shoulder.

“Guys, what are you doing here?” Taehyung grumped, trying to sound irritated but not entirely succeeding.

Hoseok shrugged. “We wanted to come welcome Y/n back,” he explained. “We brought lots of food, too.”

“Aww, thank you guys,” you giggled.

It was easy to not overthink when you were with all seven of the boys. They were rowdy and noisy, as always, yelling at each other and hamming it up to make you laugh. You didn’t need to do much to feel comfortable with them, sliding into old, familiar patterns of interaction as you sat at the table and ate the food they’d brought, giggling at their antics.

Even Taehyung seemed to relax around them, losing the tension you’d seen him carry in his shoulders and the lines around his mouth. As he smiled and laughed with Jungkook and Jimin, you couldn’t help but feel warm inside. This was what you had chosen, and you were happy with your decision.

None of the boys mentioned why you’d been in the hospital to begin with, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but from the way Namjoon kept staring at you, you knew Taehyung had definitely told at least him. You tried your best to avoid his gaze, feeling awkward, but you could feel his eyes drilling holes into the back of your head.

After lunch, you excused yourself to use the restroom while the others started clearing up. As you were washing your hands, you stared into the mirror as the memory of what had transpired the last time you were in this room happened. Right behind the mirror was the cabinet, and you couldn’t help but recall reaching in to grab the bottle of pills.

Shaken, you quickly dried off your hands and exited the room – only to run into Namjoon, who was leaning against the wall by the bathroom door.

“Oppa,” you greeted him, making to skirt around him and return to the living room, where the rest of the boys had migrated.

“Y/n,” he said urgently, and you looked up at him, surprised. You’d thought he just wanted to use the bathroom too, but apparently you were wrong.

“What is it, oppa?” you asked politely, not wanting to make a scene.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he apologized, looking down shamefully.

Your eyes widened. This hadn’t really been what you were expecting. “What for?” you asked cautiously.

“For suggesting that you should… you know,” he gestured at you with his hands, unable to say the words.

“Oh… don’t be sorry. You didn’t force me or anything,” you said, patting his arm.

“Still, I shouldn’t have told you about it,” he persisted. “That was wrong of me, I realise now. It’s not your responsibility to break the imprint.”

“Oppa…” you sighed. “It’s really not your fault, okay? I was the one who made the decision, and I was the one who asked you for the information. I know you were just trying to help.”

He raised his anguished gaze to meet yours, and you were surprised by how truly miserable he looked. This whole time, you’d thought that he only tolerated you, that he resented you because of what you’d done to Taehyung. His attitude towards you had shifted so drastically after finding out about the imprint that you’d gotten whiplash, and it was a huge part of why you ultimately accepted that the imprint was mostly your fault. Seeing him so cut up about your suicide attempt was jarring, to say the least.

“No, it was wrong of me,” he insisted. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I realise now that it isn’t your fault all of this happened, and I should have known better than to tell you when you were still recovering from your traumatic experience.”

“What did you tell her?” Taehyung’s voice cut rudely into the discussion you were having with Namjoon, and you both whipped around, eyes wide. It would have been almost comical if Taehyung hadn’t been so furious.

“Taehyung-ah—”

“Tae-oppa—”

Both of you tried to placate Taehyung, but he wasn’t having it. “What. Did. You. Tell. Her?” he asked, louder and more forcefully this time.

You wanted to facepalm. You’d been so careful about not letting it slip to Taehyung, trying to prevent this very situation from happening, and he’d caught you at the earliest possible moment.

“Tae-oppa, please—” You ran towards him, grabbing his shirt with your hands and trying to stop him from advancing on Namjoon. “It was nothing, please just let it go,” you begged.

When he looked down tenderly at you, brushing his thumb over your cheek in a manner that was very reminiscent of the way you’d done the same to him in the hospital, you relaxed a little, thinking he was going to do as you asked. Then he looked up at Namjoon over your head, and you sighed. Oh well, you thought. It would have been too easy if you’d been able to defuse the situation just like that.

Namjoon, for his part, wasn’t doing anything to defend himself, standing with his head bowed and hands clasped in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, knowing that Taehyung would be able to hear him anyway.

It didn’t help. Taehyung pushed you out of the way gently and you stared, wide-eyed, as he stalked towards the taller hybrid. Namjoon could probably defend himself if he wanted to, but he didn’t bother, letting Taehyung deck him so hard he fell onto the ground. Unsatisfied, Taehyung straddled him and continued hitting him repeatedly, so hard you could see Namjoon’s eye already swelling shut as blood spattered on the ground.

“Stop, stop!” you screamed, throwing yourself onto your knees behind the and wrapping your arms around Taehyung’s waist. “Stop, please…” you started sobbing, burying your face in his back. The violence reminded you of being out on the streets, watching the various gang fights between the humans that would take place on a near-daily basis.

The commotion had the other boys rushing to see what was going on, gathering in the hallway as they gawked at the scene in front of them. Hoseok was the first one to snap out of it, running forward to haul Taehyung off Namjoon. The fox hybrid wasn’t strong enough to control the incensed wolf, but Jin and Jungkook quickly stepped in to help, and together they managed to separate the two.

Jimin darted forward to fuss over Namjoon, helping him up while Taehyung strained against his brothers and continued yelling and swearing.

“Tae-oppa, please,” you begged, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Please stop.”

The proximity to you seemed to help, as he relaxed slightly in your hold. “You’d better go,” you said to Namjoon, and he nodded. The rest of the boys filed out with him, leaving you alone with your owner.

“Tae-oppa, are you okay?” you asked worriedly once the door closed behind the others. You pulled away from him and grabbed his hands, examining them to make sure he hadn’t hurt himself.

“Is that why you did it?” he asked. He didn’t sound like himself, and you looked up at him with concern. His bangs hung over his eyes, which were still sparking with rage. He’d never seemed more like an animal than in that moment, and this was including the last time he’d been in heat.

“Taehyung-oppa…” You didn’t know what to say.

“Is it?!” he raised his voice, and you jumped in fright. Your nerves were already shot to hell from the bathroom and then the confrontation with Namjoon, and you broke down in tears.

“I’m sorry,” you blubbered between sobs. “He said it was the only way to break the imprint, and then you said you didn’t want it, and I thought—”

“Hey, hey.” Your distress snapped Taehyung out of his anger, and he immediately turned his attention to comforting you. “I wasn’t blaming you, please don’t cry,” he said, his tone a lot softer now as he rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “You don’t need to apologize, ever, okay? It was my fault for being thoughtless,” he said, ducking a little so he could look you in the eye when you were stubbornly looking downward.

“I don’t ever want you to think that the imprint is a problem for you to solve, okay? It’s not your fault, and I should never have made you think that you had any obligation to seek out a solution, especially one like that.” The strength and conviction with which he spoke the words made it difficult to do anything other than nod, and you finally felt the weight you’d been carrying on your shoulders ever since Namjoon told you about what he thought was the only way to break the bond.

“And I’m sorry for yelling.” He sighed as you hugged him, wrapping his own arms around you and stroking your hair as you sobbed into his shirtfront. “Next time, if you have any problems, I don’t want you to think you have to hide them from me, okay? Even if they’re about us.” He might have imprinted on you, but he was still your owner and he was still responsible for you. He’d been paying for his slip-up for almost a year now, and he was determined to be more mindful from now on. The image of your body, looking so small and fragile, in your bed still haunted him.

------------------------------------

Being back in your room was difficult, you realized once you’d washed up and gotten ready for bed. Even getting into bed made you think of your suicide attempt, and there was also that ugly stain on the carpet from where you’d thrown up. Taehyung had tried to clean it, but he hadn’t been able to get the stain out, and looking at it bothered you.

There was no way you’d be able to fall asleep in the room, so you hesitantly walked over to Taehyung’s intending to bunk in with him. However, the moment you reached the door, you chickened out and paused with your fist raised. Would it be okay if you slept with him tonight? Taehyung would never say no, but you knew it would probably be difficult for him to get any rest with you in his bed. The last time you’d slept in the same room with him had been the night he found out about your experience on the street, and you still remembered waking up to his hard-on pressing into your back.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, you thought. You could always stay on the couch tonight, you decided and turned to do just that. Before you could take a step, however, the bedroom door opened behind you and you turned back around to see Taehyung standing in front of you wearing just pajama pants.

“H-hey,” you said awkwardly.

“Do you want to come in?” he asked. You didn’t ask how he knew you were there – of course he heard you coming down the hall. You bit your lip uncertainly, but sleeping with him did sound like a much better option than the couch, so you said yes and scurried into his room, climbing back into your side of the bed and burrowing under the sheets.

“Are you all right?” Taehyung asked as he got back into bed.

You hummed noncommittally. “I guess,” you said cagily, and he turned onto his side to look at you more fully. The intimacy of this position made your heart race, and you weren’t sure if it was discomfort or something else. His quirked brow was all it took to make you come clean. “Being in my room reminds me of… you know,” you mumbled, feeling guilty for some reason.

“It’s okay,” Taehyung soothed, though he didn’t initiate any physical contact. “You can stay here tonight, and tomorrow we can go stay with my parents for a while, okay? Would you like that?”

Your eyes lit up at the prospect. “We can visit Yeontan?” you asked, your voice lilting with delight.

“Of course we can,” Taehyung said, smiling at you. Your affection for the little dog knew no bounds, and he really should have done this sooner, he realized as he watched you snuggle more deeply into the sheets and shut your eyes. You were asleep within minutes, which he envied, knowing it would probably be a sleepless night for him.

Thankfully, he was wrong, although he thought maybe it would have been better if he’d stayed awake when he woke up and realized that he was wrapped around you again. He was really working on remembering to limit physical contact with you, but it was difficult not to give in to habit (and his wolf instincts) when you seemed more open and comfortable around him than you had in months. Your brush with death had really changed your attitude towards him, it seemed, and though he didn’t really understand why, he was just pleased that you didn’t seem to shy away from his touch as much anymore.

Carefully disentangling himself from you, he slipped out of bed with his phone in his hand and hobbled awkwardly towards the bathroom. Sharing a bed with his imprint was hard (pun intended). Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, he called his parents to ask if it was okay if the two of you stayed with them for a little while. They were more than pleased to have you.

The next call he made was considerably harder. Since he wasn’t exactly on talking terms with Namjoon, he called Hoseok to let him know that he would be taking a couple of weeks off to spend time with you and his family. He felt bad about it, and apologized repeatedly, but right now he had to make you his priority.

Hoseok was understanding enough, explaining that he too thought it was best if Taehyung and Namjoon didn’t see each other for a little bit. They were already going to have to push promotions back by a couple of weeks because Namjoon’s face was messed up, so it would be fine if he skipped practice.

When he hung up the phone, he took a moment to bury his face in his hands. God, everything was a mess, but at least you were healthy and seemed to be in high spirits. Shaken up by your near brush with death, sure, but overall doing way better than expected. Thank God for small blessings, he supposed. And big blessings too, like that he’d decided to come home early and found you before it was too late.

You woke up to an empty bed, but that didn’t really faze you. When you peeked out the bedroom door, you saw the bathroom door was closed, and figured Taehyung was in there. Shrugging, you skipped over to your room to start packing. You couldn’t be more excited about going back to Geochang and seeing Yeontan and Kai and everyone else.

---------------------------------------

Being back on the farm was great, you thought. Yeontan came running up to the car as soon as it pulled up in front of the house, and you leapt out to pick up your furry little friend. “I missed you so much,” you cooed, rubbing your face in his fur as he wriggled around excitedly, trying to lick your face. Taehyung’s parents came out to greet you, hugging their son and then you. Yeontan was now panting happily from his perch in your arms, and you cuddled him as Taehyung brought your bags in.

Distractions abounded on the farm, and you kept yourself well-entertained with Taehyung’s siblings, nephews and nieces, and hanging out with your old friends. It made it easy to avoid thinking about everything that had transpired, and every night when it was time for bed, you were so exhausted that you weren’t able to lie there thinking and worrying, falling asleep almost immediately.

Taehyung was enjoying the break too. He loved the city and his work, but being back in the countryside, with the clean air and the family he rarely got to see was a welcome respite. He spent his days mostly in the house, hanging out with his family while you ran around doing whatever. It was nice to see you happy again, he thought one afternoon as you took a nap on the couch, snuggled up with Yeontan. He was still a baby, but he was getting on in age and wasn’t as spry as he once was, something you didn’t mind as you carried him around so he wouldn’t strain his little joints walking.

Still, you could only distract yourself for so long before everything caught up with you, and you found yourself huddled in a shed late one morning crying over everything you’d lost. As healing as being on the farm was, it reminded you of the last time you’d lived here, while Taehyung had been serving in the military. It had been so much easier, everything uncomplicated and simple. You hadn’t had to battle these complicated feelings for Taehyung, knowing that he was struggling with his own turmoil – you’d just been secure in the fact that he loved you the way he should love a pet.

Yeontan, concerned, propped his front paws on your knees and tried to lick your tears away, but you just pulled him close as you continued to sob. Why had everything become so difficult? What had you done to deserve all of this?

As you were having your little breakdown, Taehyung was looking for you. It was almost lunchtime, which you were never late for because you loved his mom’s cooking, so he got concerned when you didn’t pop up with Yeontan in tow. It seemed like the dog liked you better than everyone else, including Taehyung himself, which didn’t seem fair, but he’d gotten over sulking about it when he saw how happy you two made each other.

“Mom, have you seen Y/n? She’s usually never late for lunch, I’m getting worried,” Taehyung finally asked after checking every room in the house and the spots around the farm he thought she’d be.

“Oh, try looking in that old shed on the far corner of the orchard, sweetie,” his mother replied carelessly, plating up the dishes. “She likes to hang out there for quiet time; thinks we don’t know about it.”

With that helpful tip, Taehyung jogged through the orchard to the shed in question, knowing he’d hit the jackpot even before opening the door because of the sound of your sobs coming through the door.

“Y/n?” he called, knocking on the door. “You in there?”

Sniffling, you hastily tried to wipe away your tears with the sleeve of your shirt. “Yeah,” you called out.

“Hey,” he greeted you as he walked in, coming to take a seat next to you. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you said, looking down at your hands, half-covered by your oversized sleeves. Only your fingers peeked out, making you look smaller and more vulnerable than usual.

“Come on,” Taehyung coaxed, knocking his shoulder into yours gently. “You know you can trust me with anything, right? I’ll always support you.”

You clenched your hands into fists, hiding them in your sleeves. Yeontan hopped from your lap to Taehyung’s, and you felt the loss of his warm little body immediately, curling closer into Taehyung in response.

“It’s just… it’s a lot,” you said vaguely, unsure of how to put your thoughts into words.

Thankfully, Taehyung understood without you needing to say anything. “I’m sure it is,” he empathized quietly. His giant frame radiated heat that you soaked up eagerly. As a human, you weren’t quite as resistant to the cold as he was. “If you want to talk about it, though, I’m always here for you, okay? It can be now or any time.”

“I know.” You nodded. Taehyung had definitely demonstrated his commitment to you. Whether it was because he was a responsible pet owner or because of the imprint you weren’t sure, but you knew now that there was no stronger force on this earth than Taehyung’s determination to keep you safe.

It was that sense of security that had you opening up to him. Resting your head on his shoulder, you started speaking. “Being here just reminded me of a simpler time, is all.”

“I get that,” Taehyung said quietly, leaning his head against yours. “Being here reminds me of my childhood too.” He ignored the way his heart seemed to skip at your proximity, determined to be there for you. You’d always enjoyed physical comfort in the past, and it wasn’t anything more than that. What kind of owner would he be if he couldn’t even cuddle his pet?

He looked down at Yeontan, sitting on his lap and panting up at him happily. That’s right, he tried to convince himself. You were just like Yeontan. Pesky imprint aside, he shouldn’t see or treat you any differently.

Thankfully, you didn’t notice any of his inner turmoil since you were so absorbed in your own thoughts. Looping your arm around his, you continued speaking, feeling like now that the dam had been broken the words were spilling out of you almost too fast, without any control. “I know none of this is your fault – well, except for kicking me out, that most definitely was—” Taehyung nodded, accepting your censure with grace, “—but it just feels like a lot of pressure, you know?”

Taehyung stiffened. “If I’ve ever made you feel obligated to do anything—” he began, but you cut him off, shaking your head.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Your brow furrowed as you thought about the best way to phrase it. “It’s just that…” you paused to think for a moment, before continuing. “Knowing how much you’re struggling makes me feel like I should be doing more to help you,” you explained.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to, really, you shouldn’t worry about this at all,” he stressed, and meant it.

“That’s not how caring about someone works, Tae-oppa,” you countered. “Besides, isn’t your heat coming up soon? If we don’t go back soon you’re going to have to go through it here and it’ll be super awkward and—” You stopped when Taehyung abruptly lifted his head off yours and stared down at you.

“What is it?” you asked, looking up at him. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Oppa? You okay?”

“My heat,” he murmured. “I forgot about that.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion. “You forgot? How is that even possible?” The symptoms of his preheat were so disruptive that all his daily activities were affected by them.

“I don’t know, the symptoms just… disappeared.”

Blinking at him, you tried to put the pieces together. “Okaaaay…” you said slowly. “When did this happen?” If there was a problem with his health, you had to go back to Seoul ASAP so he could see a doctor. You’d never heard of this happening before, although granted, you’d never been seeking this information out.

“Uhh, I remember eating way more than usual for breakfast the morning that you, uh…” he paused awkwardly, then continued, skipping over any mention of your suicide attempt altogether. “Then you were in the hospital and I was so worried I was barely eating, so I guess it was then?”

You frowned. That didn’t make sense – his heat cycle had never been disrupted by stress before. Even when there’d been deaths in his family his heat had still passed without incident. Yet it had to be that, since the timing lined up so perfectly.

Taehyung’s lips pressed together to avoid smiling at how cute you were when you were deep in thought, trying to figure the puzzle out. “Come on,” he said, standing up and dusting his pants off. “It’s lunchtime.”

“Oh, okay,” you said quietly, jolted out of your train of thought, as you let him help you up. By the time you got back to the house, lunch was almost over and as you exclaimed your disappointment over your favourite stew being gone, you forgot entirely about the strange mystery of Taehyung’s heat.

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Being back in Geochang meant hanging out with Kai again. Your reunion with your ex-boyfriend was something you’d been looking forward to since Taehyung even floated the idea of going back to visit his parents. You hadn’t broken up because you were incompatible in any way, of course, but because it was just impossible to be together, since your life was with Taehyung’s in Seoul, and Kai’s family was very happy living in the countryside.

Still, when you went to visit him, his owners just let you into the house, telling you that Kai was upstairs in his room. After thanking them politely, you ran up to his bedroom, bursting in and jumping on his bed, where he was still sleeping.

“Kai! Wake up, you lazy sack!” you giggled as you shook him awake.

He batted you away irritably. “I haven’t seen you in over a year and you’re still just as annoying as ever,” he grumbled, but since he glomped you while he was saying it, you ignored his annoying whining.

You bullied him into going to brush his teeth and sat on the edge of the bathtub watching him as he did so. He was just as handsome as ever, if not more so, but somehow you didn’t feel any attraction towards him. Was it because of the time you’d spent on the streets? Oh God, what if you didn’t like men anymore? Or sex in general? That would be a real tragedy, you thought, pressing your lips together.

Despite your confusion about Kai, the two of you still had a good time together, riding bikes around the countryside the way you used to. It was cold now, since it was winter, but you didn’t let that stop the two of you, even though you were both freezing with red drippy noses. Eventually you ended up in the community greenhouse, setting up a picnic in a cozy corner and shucking your coats. Being with Kai was easy and familiar, and you found yourself slipping into a younger state of mind, feeling lighter and happier. Still no lust, though.

Kai, on the other hand, seemed to have no such compunction – you felt his hand sliding along your lower back, clearly trying to get under your shirt, and you bit back a smile. Even if you didn’t reciprocate, there was something so therapeutic about the predictability of your ex-boyfriend trying to hit on you after all the chaos in your life over the past year.

“Kai,” you rebuked, brushing his hand away from you.

“No?” he asked, pouting at you.

Instead of answering verbally, you just shook your head with a smile.

“Okay,” he accepted, lying back. “I had my doubts anyway.”

“Yeah?” You turned onto your stomach and lay down next to him, propping yourself up with your elbows so you could look down at him easily. “How come?”

He shrugged. “Your whole vibe just seems different,” he said vaguely. “Can you move over a little, please? The sun is getting in my eyes.”

You rolled your eyes but acquiesced so that your shadow blocked out the sun. “What do you mean by that, though?”

“You seem… quieter, and your eyes are different. Like you’re keeping secrets, or you have a burden.”

Well, that much was certainly true, you thought as you hummed in acknowledgement.

“You’re still hot, though,” was his conclusion. You rolled your eyes as you laughed. Kai would be Kai, you supposed.

“Don’t worry, everything’s going to work out,” he said unexpectedly, and you looked at him with wide eyes. He’d always been perceptive, so you shouldn’t have been surprised though. He just smiled sweetly at you in response, and your heart squeezed with affection for him.

“Kai,” you sighed, snuggling close to him and resting your head on his chest. His arm came up around you, and it was nice and secure and warm. Still, you couldn’t shake the thought that Taehyung gave warmer hugs and was altogether better at making you feel like nothing in this world could touch you.

The both of you fell asleep in the greenhouse and only woke up when the sun was starting to set. Kai dropped you off at your place, just like old times, and you smiled fondly at his departing figure on his bicycle before turning around to enter the house.

You almost tripped over Taehyung on your way back into the house.

“Where were you all day?” he demanded.

“Jeez, oppa!” you screamed, pressing your hand over your pounding heart. “I was hanging out with Kai today, don’t worry,” you said dismissively, walking into the house. “Mom, I’m home!” you called out, unwinding your scarf and shucking your coat.

Taehyung came in after you, right on your heels. “You smell just like him,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, we fell asleep after lunch,” you explained with a shrug. This wasn’t necessarily uncommon behavior – even when you were just hanging around the house, you often napped in the afternoon.

His face still looked like a thundercloud, though. “What’s wrong, Taehyung-oppa?” you asked, your brow starting to furrow in concern. Had you missed something important today?

“Nothing,” he sulked. “You just really smell like him,” he repeated.

“All right,” you accepted, though you gave him another strange look before going to the dining room.

Jealousy was inappropriate and ridiculous, Taehyung reminded himself sternly as he ran his hands through his hair. He glanced towards the dining room where you’d gone, and tugged on the fluffy strands hard, hoping the pain would help him ground himself. You’d done nothing wrong and didn’t deserve this weird attitude from him.

Still, he had to admit that he absolutely hated having to smell another man’s scent on you, especially because Kai was human. He knew that you hadn’t done anything with Kai, but still, even if you had, who could blame you? Certainly not his mother, who was asking you about your day with your fellow human.

He needed to get a grip, he decided as he went to rejoin his family. This silly possessiveness over you was because of the imprint. He’d promised you that the imprint wasn’t going to be a problem because he could control it, and he intended to keep that promise.

Although, he thought as he looked over at you again, helping his mother set the table, these days he wasn’t quite sure where he ended and the imprint began.

-------------------------------------------

By the time you headed back to Seoul with Taehyung two weeks later, your relationship with him was much stronger, and you were happier than you’d been since before his last heat. Being in Geochang was like magic for you, the change in your surroundings making it so much easier to talk to Taehyung about all the doubts and insecurities that you’d been battling with for the past year. You’d even confessed your long-held guilt about taking advantage of him during his last heat, which he’d been horrified by.

Taehyung was driving, and he thought you were asleep in the front seat, so you took the opportunity to open your eyes just a crack to peek at him. He looked so good today, his large hands handling the steering wheel with ease, and you never felt safer than you did with him at the wheel.

“Tae-oppa?” you asked hesitantly as he got into the other side of the bed.

He hummed in acknowledgement, letting you know he was listening.

“About your heat…”

At that, he turned around to face you more fully, showing that you had his full attention.

“Can you go through your heat with another woman?”

“Uhhh…” Taehyung blinked at you. The question had come out of nowhere, and it took him a few seconds to digest it. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s not like there’s a manual for the imprint. It was thought to be obsolete technology, remember?”

You scooched further down into the sheets as you contemplated your response. “So what happened during your last heat… will it happen again?” It was kind of embarrassing talking about this, but you needed to be prepared. You weren’t going to end up in the same position as last year, caught off guard and unable to protect Taehyung from himself and you.

Unbeknownst to you, Taehyung was thinking the same thing. “It won’t,” he rushed to reassure you. “Now that I know what’s going to happen, we can make preparations, okay? You’ll stay with Yoongi or one of the others during my heat. You don’t have to worry that I’ll, uh…” He didn’t want to use the word ‘attack’, but that was what came to mind. “Anyway, yeah,” he concluded lamely.

“But you’ll be miserable, won’t you?” you asked, your eyes filled with concern.

“You don’t have to worry about that, sweetie,” he reassured you. “I can handle myself.”

“But I already feel bad about what I let happen last year,” you protested. “Are you sure you can’t go through your heat with someone else?”

His nose wrinkled in distaste at the mere thought of another woman, but he was more focused on what you’d accidentally let slip. “What do you mean what you let happen?” he asked.

Oops. You hadn’t really meant to say that. “You know,” you equivocated, gesturing helplessly with your hands. “You were clearly indisposed,” you tiptoed around it delicately, “and I should have known better than to reciprocate.” God, this was embarrassing. Your hands itched to bring the duvet up over your head.

“Y/n… what are you talking about?” Taehyung, completely flummoxed, had nothing else to say.

Okay, screw this. You burrowed further under the sheets, hiding your head under the covers. You were officially leaving this conversation.

“Y/n, what happened wasn’t your fault at all,” Taehyung said strongly, patting the head-shaped lump under the covers. “I basically attacked you like an animal, and you were the one who stopped it from getting out of hand. Thank you for that, by the way.”

Your head popped back out. “’Thank you’?” you echoed disbelievingly.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have wanted anything to happen, especially when we hadn’t talked about it before. You took charge when I wasn’t able to control myself, and I know it was difficult for you.”

Your eyes started to sting, and you willed your tears away. The relief of knowing, after all this time, that he didn’t blame you and you didn’t need to keep carrying this burden silently was overwhelming, making your throat close. You couldn’t have said anything in response to him, and Taehyung didn’t push you, just smiling down at you before he turned over and went to sleep, leaving you with your own emotions.

You’d thought about that night almost obsessively since, and you were replaying the events that had occurred in your mind again. Ever since then, you couldn’t stop the way your heart sped up a little when Taehyung was around, and you didn’t quite know what to make of it. He just made you feel so safe and cherished, and he’d so easily helped you set down all the emotional baggage you’d been accumulating for the past year. Was it gratitude or was it something more?

You opened your eyes fully and blinked at Taehyung, and he took his eyes off the road for just a second to smile at you. “Did you have a good nap?” he asked, returning his gaze to the front.

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling back at him. It was true – ever since you’d told him everything, you’d been sleeping so much easier. You still had occasional nightmares about your time on the streets, but Taehyung was always there when you woke up to comfort you, and you were starting to move past it.

“That’s good,” he said, the sincerity radiating off him.

Yeah, you thought to yourself. It was good.

---------------------------------

The return of his preheat symptoms didn’t particularly surprise Taehyung, but it definitely complicated things a little. Now that you were less distracted by everything and getting the space you needed from being home, without cameras constantly trained on you, you noticed almost immediately, increasing the amount of groceries you bought and making other small adjustments to make it easier for him.

These days you accompanied him to the studio more often than not, and somewhat ironically, it was Namjoon who was the most grateful to see you there. Even though you still seemed a little uncomfortable around him, refusing to make eye contact and getting jumpy whenever he walked past your chair or came too close, you were also careful to keep an eye on Taehyung, intervening whenever it looked like Taehyung was getting too hostile. Without your presence, he was sure that the comeback prep would have fallen apart ages ago. It wasn’t the first time you’d mediated fights between the boys, but Taehyung had never been so angry for so long before.

As Taehyung stormed out of the studio where they were practicing the choreography, citing his frustration with Namjoon’s inability to get the dance moves right as the reason he needed a break, you winced as you stood up and bowed deeply to the others in apology. “His preheat is making him irritable,” you explained. “I’m so sorry, I’ll talk to him after his heat passes and he’s more level-headed.”

The others made various noises of assent and/or irritation, but they all accepted that Taehyung’s behavior was just going to get more irrational until his heat was over. As hybrids themselves, they were more than familiar with the havoc that the heat wreaked on their emotions.

Turning, you ran after Taehyung, finally finding him in the empty recording booth. He was seated on the couch, his elbows propped on his thighs and his face buried in his hands. When he heard you come in, he didn’t even react.

“Hey,” you said softly, coming to sit next to him. “You doing okay there?”

“No,” Taehyung grumped. “And you probably shouldn’t sit this close to me, either.” Your scent had been distracting him all day, and the sexual frustration added to his existing anger towards Namjoon. He probably shouldn’t have snapped, but he was still so angry at the older man for meddling.

Ignoring him, you rubbed his back soothingly. You’d gotten a lot better about physical contact, and while he was grateful that you seemed to be moving past your trauma quite well, it really wasn’t helping. One consequence of the delayed heat seemed to be that the heat symptoms were coming on a lot faster and more intense, and he didn’t really trust himself around you anymore. Even your comforting touch was making heat coil in his belly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you suggested.

“I’m just mad at Namjoon-hyung, that’s all,” Taehyung explained sulkily. “I don’t know why you aren’t more upset with him. He literally told you to kill yourself.”

“Okay, first of all, no he didn’t,” you said firmly. “He just said that was the only way he’d found to break the imprint, and he told me explicitly not to do it.” You might not be pleased with Namjoon for what he’d said to you when you were in a fragile state, but still, you didn’t want Taehyung to get the wrong idea. Namjoon had meant well, after all, and besides, Taehyung still had to work with him, and they were brothers.

“Secondly, I was the one who sought him out and asked him. And you know he’s just looking out for you. You weren’t happy about the imprint either and he thought he was being helpful.”

“I guess,” Taehyung grunted. He hated how much sense you were making. He still wanted to be angry with Namjoon, especially since it was giving him another outlet for all the nervous, pent-up energy he had inside him.

“Besides, he gave you information when you asked for it, right? It would have been unfair for him to not tell me when I asked too.” Seeing him start to cave, you snuggled closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “I’m not saying you have to forgive him or anything. You’re allowed to feel how you want to feel. Just be a little more patient with him, okay? He was just trying to look out for you, and he made a mistake. It happens to all of us.”

With your scent in his head and your body pressed up against his, Taehyung lost all sense of reason as he turned his head, caught your chin in his hand, and kissed you. His lips were soft as they moved against yours, but you were completely frozen, your mind blanking at the unexpected kiss. It was only when Taehyung brought his other hand up to cradle your face as he started to deepen the kiss that you regained your senses, pushing him away by his shoulders.

You stared at each other for a second, neither of you sure of what to say. You were sure the shock was written across your face clearly, while Taehyung just looked slightly confused, his eyes still heavy-lidded. Then you could see the awareness trickle back into Taehyung’s gaze and his ears started turning red.

“Fuck!” he exploded, standing up. “Fuck, Y/n, I’m so sorry, I—” For a second longer, he just stood there, then he made an abrupt turn and ran out of the room.

Damn. You ran your fingers over your lower lip thoughtfully. You hadn’t been kissed for a long time – the Big Bang boys hadn’t been big on that – and it seemed you’d missed it. There’d been some initial anxiety when he kissed you, and your mind had short-circuited for a second, but right before you pushed him away… you’d started to enjoy it, just a little.

Huh.

----------------------------------

“Hey, Y/n?” Taehyung said suddenly, breaking the silence that the two of you had been stuck in since leaving the studio. That had been one of the most awkward car rides you’d ever experienced, but every time you wanted to say something, you looked over at Taehyung and his troubled frown stopped you. He really was awful at hiding his feelings.

You looked up from your dinner, happy that he was finally talking to you again. “Yeah?”

“Maybe it would be a good idea for you to go stay with Yoongi until my heat is over,” Taehyung said, fiddling with his stew and refusing to look up at you. He’d been castigating himself about what he’d allowed to happen ever since he left you behind in the recording booth, and feeling lower and lower the more he thought about it. This was the only way to make sure you were safe from him, he figured. He’d promised to protect you, and that included from himself.

You frowned. “But your heat isn’t here yet, is it?”

Some awkward throat-clearing and foot-shuffling later, he admitted, “It’s coming on really strong this time, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry about earlier, but I can’t guarantee that it won’t happen again if you stay here.”

Here it was. You swallowed and put down your chopsticks, lining them up with your thumb on the edge to buy some time. You’d been thinking about this ever since he left, and you weren’t quite sure whether this was the right decision to make, but you wanted to anyway. Taehyung had been there for you every step of the way, not just throughout this whole year-long nightmare, but before that too, and remembering how amazing he’d been throughout it all, even though it had to have hurt him to know how much trouble you were having because of him made something flutter in your tummy.

“I don’t want to go.” Now that the words were out in the open, you looked up through your lashes, sneaking a peek at Taehyung’s reaction. Would he be happy? Excited? Turned on? The anticipation made your stomach clench.

“Y/n…” Taehyung sounded slightly irritated now, and that wasn’t what you’d been hoping for. “Thank you for your trust in my restraint, but please go. I don’t want to do anything you don’t want,” he begged.

“Maybe… I do want it,” you suggested. Your voice was barely a whisper and the words had come out so fast a normal human would never have been able to make it out, but you knew Taehyung would have no problem with that.

As he gaped helplessly at you, you felt a thrill of satisfaction. There it was, the reaction you’d been hoping for. “A-are you sure?” he asked, and you felt a pang of fondness for him. He was always doing his best to look out for you, even at his own expense. If anything, it made you more certain of your decision.

“I’m sure, Tae-oppa.” Then you realized that he might not be willing to do this with a human and quickly backtracked. “I mean, only if you want to too! If you don’t want to be with a human—”

“No,” Taehyung interrupted. “I do, I…” Emotion seemed to overwhelm him for a second, before he composed himself. “Do you know what you’re agreeing to?” he asked, just to be sure. He didn’t think he would be able to restrain himself if you were here with him during his heat.

You smiled at him and reached across the table to scratch his ears. “I do,” you told him with a soft smile, as his eyes closed in enjoyment. He’d always enjoyed this, you thought fondly, and he was so handsome like this, with his features relaxed. He’d spent a lot of time frowning in the past year.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and when he opened his eyes, you saw such profound gratefulness shining in them. You wondered if he saw the same thing in your gaze.

----------------------------------

Now that he had permission, it was like a switch had flipped in Taehyung. He insisted on helping you do the dishes that night, which was usual, but he decided that he absolutely had to stand shoulder to shoulder with you in front of the sink, helping you rinse the dishes and place them on the drying rack after you’d scrubbed them with dishwashing liquid. When you were done, he stood behind you as you rinsed your hands off and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his nose in your hair.

When you went to bed with him, he snuggled up to you like he used to before everything happened, dragging his nose across the pulse point in your neck to scent you as he wrapped himself around you. It didn’t take you long to realise just how restrained he’d been in terms of physical contact, letting you initiate more often than not and only touching you casually and fleetingly when he did reach out to you.

Still, you could tell that he was holding himself back, not wanting to overwhelm you with the sheer extent of his heat-driven desire for you. In the mornings, though you could feel his boner pressing into your ass, he just rolled away when he woke up without you saying anything. Neither of you quite talked about the inevitability of his approaching heat and what it meant that you’d agreed to spend it with him, but the tension between you was thick enough to cut with a knife. Taehyung still tried his best to be respectful of your need for distance, though, keeping all physical contact – well, if not platonic, at least affectionate more than overtly sexual.

You could tell it was taking a toll on him, though, and now that you were aware and looking out for the signs, you wondered how it was that you’d been so oblivious last year when he’d been struggling through his preheat. You had to stop going to the studio with him because he was having a hard time focusing on anything when you were around and would often just stare at you instead, which had earned him a few questioning looks from the other boys.

Now that you’d agreed to spend his heat with him, Taehyung’s wolf was finally satisfied after over a year of being in conflict with his rational side, and it felt indescribably good, like puzzle pieces falling into place. He hadn’t even realized how agonizing it had been to hold himself apart from you, like trying to tear the two halves of his psyche apart. His wolf reveled in every touch, every flirtatious look and smile that you sent his way, puffing up proudly every time he saw you. It was a little embarrassing, since Taehyung knew that it was ridiculous to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. Now that he didn’t have to fight the imprint, it settled into place in his chest warmly, making him feel like he could take on the world. For the first time in years, he actually found himself looking forward to his heat.

As his heat drew ever closer, Taehyung, ruled by his baser instincts, allowed himself to indulge in you. Casual cuddling on the couch while watching TV turned into lazy makeout sessions, which inevitably ended with him lying on top of you, your tongues sliding against each other lewdly while he tried his best not to grind against you. More than once, he’d had to excuse himself abruptly while you lay, dazed and flushed, on the couch, trying to recover and feeling bereft from the loss of his warmth.

This time, Taehyung was well-prepared for his heat, taking time off instead of going to work like a fool like he had last year, so when he woke up one morning and felt the familiar full-body ache that meant his heat was coming, he didn’t have to do anything but pull you closer to him. He knew you were awake from the sharp intake of breath you’d taken when you felt his erection rubbing against your ass, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel all that embarrassed about the way he was basically grinding against you.

“Y/n…” he groaned, his hands sliding up your shirt greedily to feel you up.

“Tae-oppa,” you gasped, and he made a noise low in his throat in response. He liked that, he decided. In his heat-addled state, he wasn’t capable of much complex thought, but he was definitely more than capable of making you scream his name.

However, your priorities were very different from Taehyung’s. As you gradually gained consciousness to Taehyung manhandling you, it occurred to you how nasty your breath was – and how bad his was as well, probably. Knowing that you might not have a chance to brush your teeth for hours if you let him start now, you tried your best to wriggle away from him to get to the bathroom.

“No,” he whined against your neck. “What are you doing?”

“I wanna brush my teeth,” you complained. Thankfully, his heat had just started and he hadn’t lost all sense of reason yet, so he let you go, though he was sulky when you turned back to look at him.

“Come on,” you coaxed with your hand out for him to take, rolling your eyes at his pouty expression. He looked just like a child that had had his favourite toy taken away. Still, he was pliant and obedient, and you even managed to convince him to brush his own teeth too.

“Do you want breakfast?” you asked as Taehyung was rinsing his mouth out. The bathroom door was open, and you were leaning against the wall right outside the door. He wasn’t very vocal this morning, but then he usually wasn’t a morning person anyway, so you didn’t think too much of it.

At your question, his entire demeanor changed. “No,” he growled. “I don’t want fucking breakfast.” He took the couple of steps to you, his long legs eating up the distance, then he was on you, pushing you back into the wall as his mouth descended on yours.

You’d been kissed like this only once before, a year ago during Taehyung’s last heat. He was ravenous, one hand cupping your cheek as his other gripped your hip urgently, sliding around your back to press you closer to him. As his tongue slid against your bottom lip, you let out a small moan as heat rushed through your lower belly. The sound only spurred him to deepen the kiss further. All those makeout sessions on the couch had nothing on this.

Taehyung’s urgency was contagious, and you hooked your fingers in his pajama pants to pull his hips closer to you, reveling in the feel of his erection prodding at your belly. He started grinding it against you, detaching his lips from yours to pant. “Fuck,” he gasped, shuddering. “You smell so fucking good.” Then his lips were back on yours again, his hand diving into your pants.

As much as you were enjoying this, you didn’t particularly want to be fucked against a wall, at least not for your first time. (You decided to put a pin in it to revisit later.) “Tae-oppa,” you gasped as his fingers ghosted over your clit through your panties. “We should go back to the bedroom.”

He pulled back, clearly displeased with the idea of any more delays, but couldn’t fault your logic, so he lifted you off the ground and carried you back to his room. The casual display of strength was more arousing than you could have imagined, and you felt the wetness slipping out of you as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Fuck,” Taehyung said again, gripping you more tightly. He couldn’t get back to the bed fast enough now, and one hand slid down to your ass to hold you close to him as he sped up.

Unwilling to part from you for even a second, he fell with you onto the bed, almost crushing you beneath his weight as he kissed you again, a filthy mess of lips and tongues that made both of you moan. He separated from you for just long enough to pull your camisole over your head, although you definitely heard it rip – not that you were overly concerned about it, however, when he was sliding his big hands over your body to grope your tits.

In retaliation, you stuck your hand down his pants. He wasn’t wearing underwear, which was very typical of him, and you smiled against his lips as you wrapped your hand around his dick and he shuddered in response. It felt so good to finally have a cock in your hand again, all warm and hard and throbbing.

Bracing his knees on the bed on either side of your hips, Taehyung lifted himself off you to tug your remaining clothes off, taking your panties and sweatpants in one fell swoop. You continued jerking him off almost lazily, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.

With you now naked, the scent of your arousal permeated the air, driving Taehyung crazy. He had to have more of it, and it was that thought that guided him to shift so that he was between your legs, pushing them further apart to reveal your soft, wet pussy, all shiny from how turned on you were. It made his mouth water and his cock throb between his legs.

“Shit,” he breathed quietly, his eyes completely fixated on what lay between your legs. His unabashed scrutiny was starting to make you feel a little self-conscious, and you started to bring your legs together, but he stopped you with his hands on your inner thighs and a warning look.

“Tae-oppa,” you whined, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide. “Stop staring.”

“Okay,” he agreed absently. It wasn’t a difficult promise to make, he thought as he lowered his head. There was so much more he wanted to do to you.

The first swipe of his tongue across your slit had you shivering. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he groaned before he dove back in with gusto, using broad strokes of his tongue to scoop up all the juices leaking from you before circling your clit. He teased you with light, kittenish licks that you honestly wouldn’t have expected from someone clearly so wrecked, and he moaned like you were doing him a favour by letting him eat you out.

It was all too easy for him to build you up to the brink of orgasm, his heightened senses allowing him to take note of every sigh, whimper and moan that you emitted as he found all your best spots. With his fingers in you rubbing against your g-spot and his lips suckling on your clit, it wasn’t long before you were lifting your hips off the bed, thrashing as you came ever closer to the edge.

“Please, Tae, pleasepleaseplease—” you moaned, cutting yourself off with a choked cry as you felt the tension in your lower belly snap beautifully. You clenched hard on his fingers as you came, your slick dripping out of you and down his hand. When the waves of pleasure buffeting your entire system stopped, you opened your eyes and blinked at him lazily with a small smile.

Taehyung, on the other hand, stared down at you with intense bedroom eyes as he lifted his hand – the one that just been inside you – to his mouth and cleaned your juices off with his tongue, keeping eye contact the entire time. You couldn’t help but feel a frisson of arousal snake through your core again at the clear intent in his gaze.

“Tae…” you held your arms out for him invitingly, and he groaned as he bent to kiss you, one hand planted into the mattress next to your head for balance while he worked his way out of his pajama pants with the other. Too impatient to take them off fully, he left them bunched around his knees as he shuffled closer to you, stroking his erection with his hand.

“’m gonna fuck you now,” he mumbled against your lips as he lined the tip of his cock up with your folds. You held your breath in anticipation – despite everything that had happened, including your brief dalliance earlier this year, the two of you had never actually done this before. You found yourself tensing up as he started pushing his way into you, making him groan at the increased tightness and friction.

“Relax for me, love,” he mumbled, his breath washing against your temple. You whimpered, locking your arms and legs around him and clinging on for dear life. Slowly, biting your lip, you concentrated on doing what he said, and he huffed in pleasure as he sank further into you. You were wet enough that even though you were tight around him, it didn’t really burn, the stretch and fullness teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain.

“Good girl, such a good girl for me,” Taehyung praised, stopping to kiss you. Compared to what you were currently in the midst of, this kiss was gentle and chaste, intended to comfort you. It was somewhat surprising – based on what he’d told you and what you’d observed, you’d expected him to be out of control, unable to focus on anything other than his own pleasure. This considerate, gentle side of Taehyung wasn’t one you’d expected to see until the initial wave had subsided and he could think more coherently.

That wasn’t to say, of course, that you didn’t notice the strain this slow pace was taking on him – he was sucking marks almost viciously into your neck, his teeth catching on your skin almost threateningly, and his whole frame was wound so tight that he was almost trembling. You felt the tension in his shoulders and back, and you stroked his side soothingly, although from the way the muscles under your hand jumped, he didn’t appreciate the meaning behind the gesture.

When he finally bottomed out, you let out the breath you’d been holding as he groaned, holding himself painfully still. He could feel every ripple as you clenched and fidgeted under him, trying to get used to having him inside of you, and it was sorely testing his control. “Y/n, please,” he finally groaned. “Please stay still.”

Instead of doing as he said, you clenched as hard as you could around him, delighting in the shaky groan he let out as he dropped his head, his forehead brushing against your collarbone. “Fuck,” he huffed, reaching down to hook his arms behind your thighs and draping your legs over his shoulders. “I tried to be nice,” he grumbled as he pulled his hips back.

“Fuck being nice,” you purred as you hooked your arms around his neck, one hand finding its way into his hair.

That was the last straw, and all the impressive control Taehyung had been showing up till now shattered spectacularly as he started a brisk pace with his hips, folding you almost in half with his frame. You really didn’t have any clue just how much he was holding back until he stopped, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it as he plowed into you with everything he had.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he huffed, his breath making the baby hairs by your temple flutter. The bedsprings were creaking and the headboard thumping against the wall, but neither of you could bring yourself to care. All of Taehyung’s energy was being channeled into fucking you as hard and as fast as he could, his mind solely focused on the race to the finish. He was going to fill you up so good, you’d be dripping with his cum for days, finally getting those vile human men’s scent out of you…

The thought was endlessly titillating to him, and when he looked down to where you were joined, putting a visual image to the filthy thoughts swirling in his head, he bared his teeth in a snarl. The sight of his cock splitting you in half, shiny from your juices was almost too much for him, but he couldn’t look away.

Taehyung had never looked more like an animal than he did right now, completely focused on fucking your brains out, but instead of being afraid, his fucked out expression sent a shiver through you – the good kind, of course. You wanted to cum with him, but in his current state, he wasn’t focusing on your pleasure, so you snuck a hand between your joined bodies to rub at your clit.

As close as he was to orgasm, the sight of you pleasuring yourself filled him with irrational fury. His wolf howled, demanding that he take care of his mate, and completely under its sway now, he batted your hand away with a growl. “You’re mine,” he snapped as he took over, rubbing your clit with the rough pad of his thumb.

“Cum with me,” he groaned into your ear before he kissed you. He was too far gone to do it properly, of course, basically just pressing his open mouth against yours in a filthy imitation of a kiss, but he still managed to retain the presence of mind to tilt his hips slightly to adjust the angle with which he was pounding into you so that he could brush against your g-spot. The increased stimulation made you wail as you tried your best to move with him despite your limited leverage.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” you huffed, trying to warn him as your hips jerked slightly, pressing your clit harder against his thumb to get that little bit more that you needed to cum. And then it was happening, your mind blanking out as you squeezed his cock tightly, clenching rhythmically as you worked through the waves of your orgasm.

As he heard and felt you cum around him, Taehyung groaned like he was dying and redoubled his efforts, his hips now basically a blur with how fast and hard he was thrusting into you. “Fuck, Y/n, yes,” he groaned breathlessly as he finally came, pushing himself as deep as he could and grinding against you for that extra bit of friction to make his orgasm last just a little longer.

When it was over, he slumped down over your body, letting go of your legs so that you could wriggle them out from under him to wrap them around his hips, a far more comfortable position for you. He felt boneless, so utterly satisfied that he would never need anything again, although he knew that was definitely not true. In about ten minutes, he’d be ready to go again.

For now, though, he was happy to just fuss over you, nuzzling into your cheek and brushing your sweaty, matted hair away from your face. “You’re so pretty,” he sighed blissfully, bracing himself over you with his elbows as he leaned down to kiss you. The urgency was temporarily gone now, and he traded soft, slow kisses with you, feeling so happy his heart could burst.

“I love you,” he blurted out unintentionally, and your eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t know where it had come from either, but now that it was out there, he realized that he meant it. No one had ever made him feel so good – not just physically, of course, but so at peace with the world. When he was with you, everything felt so right, so perfect, like you’d been made for him and he’d been made for you. If that wasn’t love, what was?

You raised your hand to cup his face, brushing your thumb across his lips. The way he looked at you, searching, hopeful, made your heart clench. Taehyung always made you feel so safe, so protected, like nothing could ever touch you. Being with him felt like being free from the difficulties of life that lay outside his bubble of protection. If that wasn’t love, what was?

Smiling back at him, you told him, “I love you too.”

#btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #plotsofpastel #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #ur-net #smutcentralnet #magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #ksmutclub #kim taehyung #bts smut #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #bts fic #hybrid bts #hybrid taehyung #dont ask dont tell

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Footprints in the Sand

Part Twelve: Hunger

Summary/Author's Note: We are in Dorne people! You wake up in bed with your lovers for the first morning of what you hope will be the rest of your days. Oberyn tells you about his family and the two of you share some quality morning time. 

I need a fucking spreadsheet for Oberyn’s Daughters. I have a google doc and at this time in the Footprints era he only has 6 (there are two left to be born). Trust me, the age calculations were...time consuming. 

(gif credit to @pajamasecrets, yes this is my header. It's perfect.)

Pairing: Oberyn x Ellaria x Lannister!Reader Word Count: 4.6k Warnings/Rating (NC-17/18+) - language, cockwarming, Oberyn uses ridiculous blades for the AESTHETIC, threesome, oral fem!receiving x2, penetration, lady on top, face sitting, mild breath play if you squint... (ALL OF THIS WILL BE HAPPENING IN PART 13, I HAD TO CUT IT.)

[Part Eleven] [Masterlist]

The sounds of birds quietly singing outside the open window in the branches of the citrus trees drew you slowly out of slumber. If you strained your ears you could hear the distinct sounds of the ocean crashing against the sands as the city started to rise and begin it's day. With tired limbs, shaky and weak like a newborn foal, you slowly sat up and pushed your wild hair out of your face. Even laden with fatigue, you had never felt more rested.

Ellaria slept quietly beside you, naked and draped in one of the many silk sheets that adorned the massive bed that the three of you now shared. Her ebony curls fanned over the pillows and her copper skin looked so soft in the morning glow of the sunbeams filtering through the gently swaying curtains. It was clear to you then that you would never get used to how truly beautiful she was, nor the idea that you were to wake beside her every morning. Was such a gift your new reality?

Looking to your left, you noticed the third member of your triad was missing.

"Oberyn?" You asked quietly to an empty room.

Ellaria turned over and pulled the sheet with her to help nestle herself down into the pillows and it made you smile. You could look for Oberyn alone--after spending the majority of the trip home sick she needed as much rest as she could get. Home. The idea of referring to such a place, and the ease at which the thought came to your mind made you feel light and giddy.

You grabbed one of Ellaria's oversized silk dressing robes off of the edge of the overflowing trunks and draped it over your shoulders. It didn't tie in the front and confirmed that it was more for decoration than for actual concealing of your nakedness. But it was soft, the royal blue slipping across your skin in a way that made you feel devine--the two of them had a knack for collecting devine and beautiful things.

The quiet trickle of water drew you to the room off to the side of the master bedroom. Before the three of you had tumbled into bed and well, into one another, Ellaria had given you a tour. The washroom was off to the side with a large marble pool for bathing, an ornate sun-shaped looking glass on the wall, and shelves full of scented oils and healing balms. Such luxury was something you had never seen, not even in the red keep, where money was thrown at armies instead of at the city's infrastructure.

Just as you had deducted, Oberyn sat in an armless, straight backed chair that he had pulled closer to one of the mirrors. A bowl of water sat on the table closest to him, and you leaned against the doorway and watched as he shaved. Despite the sunlight coming in from the window above the pool, a few candelabras flickered closer to where he was working to give him more light. There was yet to be a lighting in which his tanned skin didn't look utterly breathtaking to you and as you watched him drag his blade slowly up his throat and wipe away a bit of the soap on his neck, you had to remind yourself to in fact take a breath.

Your hand dipped down the valley of your breasts as you were suddenly filled with the desire to touch him. And yet, you didn't want him to stray from his task. You wanted to observe the way he moved, the way the muscles of his back shamelessly made your mouth water. The obvious solution for now was to touch yourself. Your fingers had barely ghosted the apex of your thighs when he spoke.

"What are you doing, lover?" His voice came as he looked at you in the mirror over his shoulder.

You took your hand away from your body and walked towards him, the silk of the robe blowing behind you gracefully while you walked. "Nothing.."

"Don't lie to your prince," he said, still holding a smile as he balanced the blade across the top of the bowl. "It looked like you were about to enjoy yourself to the image of me--come here." He grabbed your wrists and pulled you against him. He looked you up and down slowly, his dark eyes drinking you in as he reached up and pushed the robe from your shoulders to pool in the floor at your feet. "Aren't you a vision?"

"You flatter me."

"I simply observe."

“Did you sleep well?” he asked as he transferred his grip from your wrist to your hand and brought your knuckles to his lips.

“Best sleep I’ve had in years.”

“Good.”

You touched the smooth skin of his throat with the tip of your finger. The soap he had lathered onto his skin smelled of honeysuckle and rosemary. You desperately wanted to kiss along his jaw but he had only finished about half of his shaving, sculpting the sharp beard that ran along his pointed features perfectly. "May I?"

"May you what?" He looked up as he helped you slide into his lap.

"Teach me," you said, quietly as you straddled his thighs and nodded to the blade and then gestured to his jaw.

"Hmm," he made a thoughtful noise as his hands slid up your sides and cupped your breasts. His thumbs played over your nipples, drawing goosebumps to the surface of your skin. "I don't allow many people to have a blade that close to my throat."

"I overstep--"

He pinched your right nipple gently and stopped your words before you could apologize. "You never overstep in my presence. Whose bed are you in?" He took your hand and guided it between your bodies as he started to grow hard against your thigh.

"Yours," You gasp as he wraps your fingers around his thick shaft, growing larger by the moment.

"And who am I?"

"A prince of Dorne."

"Exactly."

He put his hand behind your head and gripped your hair, pulling you forward enough to kiss you hard. You stroked him gently as you felt your own core start to respond to him. A small whimper fell from your mouth as you felt his fingers part your folds. You were sore from the night before but not enough to push away his affections. His name fell from your lips and his large hands cupped your ass and lifted you slightly.

"I'll teach you," he mumbled against your lips. "On the condition that you sit that beautiful cunt on top of my cock while you do."

You nodded as he gripped your ass and spread you slightly, making it easier for you to raise up on your knees. Using his shoulders for balance, you let him slowly impale you. He made room for himself in a way that made you clench against the intrusion. He encouraged you to relax as he nosed your neck and up to your cheek.

"How are you fairing from last night?" He asked, a soft grunt coming from his throat as you get settled.

"Sore, but I'll get used to it," you play your fingers in the back of his hair and watch his face. "I--um," you swallow hard and fight to keep your blush down. "I dreamed about what we did."

"About which part, my dear?"

"About," you lowered your voice and said quietly. "About tasting Ellaria."

"Hmm, I dare say you enjoyed that almost as much as she did." He chuckled and put his knuckle under your chin before you could look away. “No shame in that--who wouldn’t want to taste something that sweet?”

He trailed his fingers along the curve of your jaw and down over one of the mouth-shaped bruises on your neck. He had already apologized for them and you wouldn’t hear it again. You had enjoyed the making of them just as much as he had. When you bit your lip his cock twitched inside of you and you readjusted on his lap with a soft groan.

“Easy,” he chided you softly. “I can’t fuck you until I finish shaving.” His grin was as mischievous as his desire to keep you waiting. It excited you, made you long for unspoken promises you knew he intended to keep. “Grab the blade--I’ll teach you.”

You looked to the table on your right and picked up the dagger off of the bowl. It was a solid weight in your hand, not too heavy, but not at all flexible or flimsy. Unlike his other blades that you had seen on his belts and belongings, the handle was not adorned with a snake or sun or any kind of writing. In fact, it was pretty plain. Its charred black handle was crafted from the horn of an animal of some kind and wrapped in a leather strap for grip--despite the lack-luster appearance, it was clear that the blade was incredibly sharp.

“Should you use this on your face?” You raised an eyebrow and balanced it gingerly in your hand.

“What else would I use?” he chuckled as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Now, firm grip. You’re going to need one hand on the blade and one hand on my neck.”

“Oberyn--” you said, suddenly feeling less sure of yourself.

“You can do it,” he encouraged. “I happen to like the view better like this.” He smirked, looking at your breasts. He started to lean forward to put his mouth on them and you pressed him back against the chair, firmly.

“Stay still,” you teased and he nodded.

“As you command, my love,” he leaned his head to the side. “Use your free hand to press gently and pull down on my skin. It will make it taught, and then you can shave down with the grain. Short, smooth strokes.”

You bit your lip in concentration as you did just as he said. Weeks of being in his bed and your heart still hammered when you were this close to him. Here sat one of the most deadly men you had ever known and his calloused but gentle hands cupped your ass as you held a rather large blade to his throat. The intimacy and trust of the situation was not lost on you.

The blade gave a little resistance as you started to drag it gently through the soap against his neck. The suds parted revealing his skin in the most entrancing way and you carved a path down from his jaw to where his previous lines ended.

“Was Doran upset with you? Yesterday, that is,” you asked quietly once you finished your line and moved to dip the knife in the bowl of water and wipe it on the cloth.

“Yes, of course,” Oberyn, took the chance to smile as you paused in your process. “But it wasn’t the first time, and I promise you it won’t be the last.”

Your stomach turned at his words and you looked at him in earnest. “I don’t want to go back--”

“I won’t let that happen.”

His tone was sharp enough to make you flinch but his hands moved up your back as if to soothe the sting from his words. Although you didn’t know how he planned on keeping it from happening, you wanted to believe him. You had to.

The two of you sat in silence as you carefully moved the blade down his throat, taking any hair with the soap before rinsing, drying, and starting a new line. You went much slower than was probably needed, but if you drew blood on him, you would have never forgiven yourself--although Oberyn would have probably found it amusing. He took the cloth and held it for you gently, his eyes softening as he gazed upon you. The trickle of the water in the bowl sounded far too loud in all of the quiet, so you cleared your throat.

"Tell me about your family, other than Doran--your children, perhaps?"

"You wish to know about my daughters?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and when you nodded he continued. "I have six."

"Six??" You asked, unable to keep the shock from your voice.

"Yes," he said simply. His voice continued to hold a good-natured tone, despite the fact that yours teetered on audacity.

"I'm sorry, that's just so many for--"

"An unmarried man?" He moved his hand up your side and rubbed his thumb along the side of your breast slowly. "It's much different down here in the southern part of the world, my love. As I've said of our Ellaria--bastards are born of passion, of love, and we do not despise them. Should the need arise, any one of my girls would be accepted as a princess of Dorne and would be allowed to sit on the throne."

"I didn't mean any offense--"

"And you have given me none. I just wish you to unlearn the ways of such small minded people. I know it will take time, but you live here now. Your home is in Dorne, so are your people." He reached up and brushed your hair back from your neck.

"I'll try." You sat up a little, adjusting yourself around his length as you resumed the task of shaving his face. The way he spoke to you didn't make you feel foolish or small, much like his voice when you asked about the blade, he wanted nothing more than to teach you.

"That's all I ask." He put his hands back on your hips and leaned his head back against the chair, exposing his throat to you again. "Let's see, my oldest, Obara, is eighteen. Her mother was a whore from oldtown. She is an excellent fighter."

"Like her father."

"Yes," he smiled sadly. "Unfortunately the gods also gave her my anger. But I don't blame her, considering her mother's love was also full of betrayal."

"Where is her mother?" You asked without thinking and before you could apologize, Oberyn answered.

"Dead."

You kept quiet and let him continue. The blade of the dagger whispered through the soap once again and you meticulously inspected his skin for stray hairs. Hundreds of questions came to the tip of your tongue and although you were certain he would answer them all, it was enough to listen to him tell his stories the way he wanted to.

"Sarella," he paused as he said the name quietly. "Well, I guess she'd be almost nine. Also born in Old Town. Her mother is captain of a trading ship. She writes to me. Told me of her birth--perhaps one day I'll get to meet her."

"Is that something you want?"

"Of course. But only if Sarella wishes it as well."

“I can't imagine a girl not wanting to meet her father if it means she would be a princess." You smiled and worked on the last section of his neck, priding yourself on the fact that you had managed not to accidentally draw blood on him.

"Her happiness is more important than her title. And if she is happy at sea with her mother, then so am I."

“Not a lot of fathers think that way.” You nodded and pressed gently on his skin. "Almost done."

"Take your time," he reassured with a relaxed sigh before continuing. "Nymeria just had her fifteenth name day, and she was born of a Noble woman in Volantis," Oberyn said factually as he trailed his finger up your spine slowly. "She looks like her mother. Acts like her, too." He chuckled. "Tyene, now her mother was a Septa."

You paused and leaned back, unable to mask the obvious shock on your face. "A Septa?"

"Scandalous, isn't it?" He raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"Am I to believe that you charmed a woman from her own faith and into your bed?"

"You can believe what you want but the proof of our endeavor is thirteen years of age and currently living at the Water Gardens of the Martells." He laughed as you placed the blade back in the bowl and used the cloth to wipe the excess soap from his jaw. "She is the only one with blonde hair and pale skin--and you know that didn't come from me."

"You speak of them fondly. Not just your daughters, but...their mothers."

"I do."

"Did you love them?"

"I did. Once upon a time."

"You are…" you paused, shaking your head and moved to put the towel on the table.

"What?"

"Nothing." Your voice was sharper than you wanted it to be and looked away from him.

"I'm what?" he challenged. "I love each one of my daughters, just as I loved their mothers. That love may have burned out quickly, may have been nothing more than passionate infatuation but it doesn't make it less real. My heart has travelled a great distance before finding its permanent home with Ellaria...and you."

“Permanent?”

“Have you ever known me to be untruthful?” he asked and you shook your head ‘no’.

Did his list of lovers intimidate you? Did knowing he held genuine emotion for them make it any easier to swallow? Jealousy was a horrible thing and yet it burned in your heart for no reason at all. These women were long gone, lost to the past of his many lived lifetimes, and here you sat, perched on his cock no less, trying not to feel jealous. It was a childish way of thinking, a foolish way, and you were neither a child or a fool. He must have seen the anguish of your thoughts on your face because his hand reached up and grabbed your jaw roughly.

"Do you wish me to stop? Does my touch offend you, now?"

"No." You answered him stubbornly as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your cheeks.

"Do you want me to tell you that you're far more lovely than any of them? That they all pale next to the beauty of my stolen lioness?" He raised his eyebrow again and when you tried to jerk your face from his grip, he held fast.

"Don't patronize me, Oberyn," you scowled as you put your hands on his chest and clenched around his cock. You suddenly wished he wasn't inside of you, distracting you, pulling you from the jealousy that your mind so desperately wanted to cling to. And yet, you wanted him deeper, closer, you wanted to claim him in a way that the flames of his past no longer could. All you had to do was say it.

"Then what would you have me do?" He asked as he pushed his hips up slightly, the feeling making your eyes flutter as you dug your nails into his flesh. "Say what you're feeling. What you want."

"I want," you took a steady breath before opening your eyes and looking at him with a level gaze. "I want to know that Ellaria and I are the only ones that possess your heart. That you don't look at me and see a foolish girl who has never left home, who doesn't have adventures to tell you about, or a long list of colorful lovers. I want to know that you won't grow bored of me."

“Ah,” he nodded. “I see.”

“You see? That’s it?”

Before you could pull away his hand slipped from your jaw to the back of your neck. He pulled you into him and kissed your lips with such a tenderness that made the animosity melt from your very skin. You desperately wanted to hold on to the small amount of anger you had, whatever upper hand it gave you was a lie, but it was better than continuing to feel naive in front of him.

“There’s that fire,” he whispered against your lips and you succumbed to him at last.

“What do you mean?”

“You insult yourself when there is nothing to insult. What an honor it is to help you write your own adventures." He moved his fingers to his lips and licked the tips of his first two. "And I say you've already had quite a first one--scaling down the Red Keep and running away with your two lovers is nothing to make light of."

"I guess you're right," you say quietly. You rock your hips forward once and he hisses, but still keeps his eyes locked on yours.

“You are not the wilting flower that the Lannisters have led you to believe your whole life. How does Ellaria feel about timid creatures?”

“Timid is boring.”

"And how wonderful will it be, to make it my life's work, to make you experience a love so exquisite, it will ruin all other partners you may have had in this life," he kept his tone even as he slipped his hand between your bodies and pressed his dampened fingers against your clit. "Or the next."

"Oberyn," you gasped quietly, raising up as he started to gently move his fingers back and forth. He had been inside of you the entire time and you were practically dripping because of it. Your own wetness soaked the inside of your thighs and dampened his lap as your velvety heat kept his cock tight and warm. You didn't know how much longer you could stand him not fucking you like he had the night before.

"And how are you feeling about my affections now?" He asked.

"Better," you whimpered.

"Better? Hmm, an improvement. I'll just have to keep reminding you until you're confident in them."

His free hand pressed into the small of your back to encourage you to move your hips. Obeying his silent command, you put your hands back on his chest and started to ride his lap. The stretch of him inside of you was still a tight fight due to the lack of movement for so long, and it was one of the most exquisite feelings in the world. Your head hung forward slightly, your hair falling over the front of your shoulder, and you made a soft sound as he pinched your clit. The way the head of him pressed against the sweet spot towards the end of you, made you ache for more. The feeling was intoxicating, addictive, and made you feel powerful in ways nothing else ever would.

“Oberyn--”

“Yes, my love?”

"I am more lovely than your…," you swallowed hard as you forced the squeak from your voice. "Your other lovers."

"What did you say?" Oberyn moved his hand from your slit and grabbed your hips roughly, his tone surprised but still the deep rumble it had been.

"I said," you looked at him through the curtain of your hair before pushing it back and repeating yourself. "I am more lovely than your other lovers. Ellaria and I are lovelier and you will never grow bored of our bed."

“A much better tone.” He smirked, a grin that slowly reached from ear to ear and held a pride that was almost palpable. "And what makes you say that?"

"You're here, aren't you?" You leaned your forehead against his and whispered against his lips. "And whose cunt are you inside of?"

He chuckled quietly and matched your tone. "Hmm, I suppose you're right."

You yelped as he surged forward and kissed you hard, his tongue parting your lips as if he wanted to taste the words you had just said. He fisted his hand in your hair and held your head still as he devoured your mouth and thrust his hips up against yours. Your hands found his neck and moved up to cup his jaw, holding him in place with only a fraction of the strength he held you with.

His neck and face were soft and fragrant from the soaps you had just used to shave him. His beard once again was its normal crisp line that framed the edge of his jaw. He looked every bit the Prince that he was and you wanted him in the same desperate way that you wanted him in King's Landing.

Would that ever go away? Would the burning desire to claim such a powerful entity as your own ever truly leave you? The way Oberyn and Ellaria spoke of each other, it didn't seem so. And now that love included you. A triad of adoration, of burning passion that would follow the three of you to your dying day--you were ready to be consumed by it. You wanted to be consumed, to be devoured, and in their arms it wasn't a terrifying thought.

"Fuck me."

Normally such words fell from your lips, but this time, it was Oberyn that said them.

He purred against your skin as his large hand came down on your ass with a smack spurring your hips into action. You wanted to own him in the way he did you, possess his soul in the way he possessed yours. So if he wanted you to fuck him, you would happily oblige.

"I want your mouth on my tits," you panted as you grabbed him by his dark hair and shoved his face down against your chest. He obeyed, bowing his head to mouth at your breasts. He bit, he sucked, he grabbed handfuls of your chest.

“Like that, sweet girl?” he said, his beard rubbing harshly against your soft skin in a way that made you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him closer.

You leaned your head over his as you continued to ride him relentlessly and he held your hips, pulling you down on his cock over and over. A trickle of warmth started low in your belly as the tip of him brushed the end of you and you held still to preserve the feeling for a moment extra. It was a desperate fuck that was unlike the night before. It was about staking his claim on your body, or perhaps you were staking yours on his.

“Oberyn,” you whined as you felt your body teetering on the edge of its release.

“My body is but a throne for you and Ellaria. To use as you see fit and to sit on as it pleases you,” he looked up at you, his neck straining from the angle and making his voice a breathy plea. “Such a gorgeous woman and you’re all mine.”

“As you are mine,” you leaned down to capture his lips as you breathed your words into his mouth. You gasped and pulled away from his kiss as your orgasm took you abruptly. Your nails pressed into the back of his scalp as you bared down on his lap, enveloping his entire length and holding it inside you in a greedy moment of pure ecstasy.

His arm tightened around you as he cupped your pussy and used his hand to help bring you through the pleasure. You felt the wetness of your release on his fingers and lap as he stood, clutching you to his chest and giving you a moment to clench your legs around him. With a firm kick, he knocked the chair back out of the way and laid you bare on the floor.

“Apologies, but if I don’t fill you up soon, I may go mad,” he braced his arms on the ground next to your head as he rammed himself up inside of you and you pulled his weight down on top of your body.

“We wouldn’t want that,” you moaned as you claimed his mouth just as he claimed you with his release and a groan of pure adoration.

--

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[we-dragons]

I'm from a different dimension actually Chapter 9 Damian x reader

"What is this place, why is it shaped like a T?" We stand on an island with this enormous building smack in the center of it the sunset shade casting a large shadow over us, I can't get over how ridiculous it looks. Or contemplate my confusion, Nightmare makes an unimpressed huff and nuzzles back into my shoulder.

"Titan's tower."

"why would this be a good place to hide? It's the most obvious building here, I ran with you for several days I'm beginning to think I would be safer under my floorboards." He walks up to the doors and pulls out a card holding it in front of the circular panel. It beeps and a clicking noise comes from the door.

"Believe me this would be a better place for you." I sigh a form of any and all anxiety pools in my body, but I still meet him at the now unlocked door.

"Alright fine but you need to explain to me why here of all places."

"When we get inside." The doors swing open, the area behind it lights up leading to what I assume is an elevator. I'm pulled inside not giving me a chance to look around. "Hey!" He doesn't answer but pulls us into the elevator, I don't see him push a button but we almost immediately move up. It's fast but not as fast as the one I had to go down for training at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Though the feeling is familiar and I start missing my classmates all over again. I rub the wrist that Damian was holding to dragging me here. Nightmare growls at the space moving him and interrupting his nap. The space stops and the door opens to an open space that looks like a large living room. a white angled couch a large kitchenette and an impossibly large TV by open glass windows. The room has several people all staring at us, my anxiety hits me tenfold and I take a step back. A hand is at my shoulder the moment I do and pushes slowly while moving itself. The doors close signaling that I'm truly stuck here, a woman with Neon pink hair and bronze skin zooms up to us.

"It's so good to see you, and I see you brought a friend. Richard has been looking all over for you."

"I know that's why you can't tell him we're here." I'm pushed forward. "She's a mutant possessing the X-Gene, my father wants to interrogate her for the information, she needs to stay here till a better solution becomes present. Can she stay here?"

"Well of course she can stay-"

"What?!" Nightmare jumps from my arms and hisses. I walk backward, taking in this new information. "How did, you find out when-when." Fear creeps how long had he known how much trouble was or might be in. But he didn't mention this. but then again why would he. How does he know about the X-Gene though, from the research I did there were none here with it. The closest there was were Metahumans but even they didn't have anything close. My back hits the wall and I return to the world Nightmare growls standing guard in front of me. Everyone who was in the room now stood in front of me, a boy that was green from head to toe, another girl in a purple cloak and unitard, and another boy with something attached to his back. The pink-haired woman steps forward, but Nightmare swats at her yowling as a warning to keep away. She raises her hands in surrender but looks at me.

"There is no need to be afraid, I knew people like you, Jean Grey, Cyclops. they came here by accident once a few friends and I helped them get back. It would have been 7 years ago now." Damian steps forward Ignoring Nightmare, guilt is painted slightly on his face he tries to coax me from the wall. "I'm sorry I knew since the time you showed me, I checked my recorder after that visit and played it back home in front of everyone. I was to find out more from you and report back after we scanned those samples that healed me. When we were ready I was supposed to bring you back with me for interrogation with confirmation of your mother's research." Something snaps inside me and I glare at him.

"So all that was for those stupid journals. Wow, for how long were you faking nice. No, don't tell me it'll just feel worse. " I put a hand on my face willing the emotions of confusion to stop. A crackling noise makes its self known in front of me followed by screams.

"Holy Crap that thing has tentacles coming from its face!"

"Ahh!"

I gasp at the sight Nightmare had gone full flerken and is attempting to drag Damian in. I lunge at Nightmare dragging him across the floor. He lets go of Damian but he hasn't changed back to cat form. "Nightmare No! Calm down I'm fine I swear it! Stop!" The black fuzzball retracts his tentacles and hisses at the crowd.

"I'm sorry, he gets like that when he sees me upset sometimes. Not sure if you have them here but he's half flerken, they look like cats but they're quite deadly." I set Nightmare down and he crawls behind my legs once again hissing particularly at the green boy how has gotten closer, he turns into a green cat making Nightmare run in the process. Damian limps forward his leg is bleeding through his suit. I would let that heal naturally if only wounds inflicted by Nightmares in the flerken form never heal normally on their own.

"Y/N these are the Titans, the one mimicking your," he waves his hand in the air as if to find the world. "flerken is Garfield." He points to Nightmare being chased my the green cat attempting to lose him. The bronze woman glides forward stomping a foot from me the others followed behind.

"Hello my name is Starfire you can call me Kori, this here is Raven," She points to the purple girl then moves her other hands to the boy. "and this is Jaime. We are pleased to have you here Y/N." She grabs my hand pulling me away from the middle of the room where I had landed. "Now let's get you settled in I'll talk to Damian for a bit after." Nightmare notices my leaving and jumps onto my right sholder hissing at the green-skinned boy.

_____________________________________________________________

I honestly don't know how to feel, to be honest, I should have guessed it so it's my fault. I could have left him and then this wouldn't have happened, but then he would have died in my apartment. Could have been more hostile, but then he definitely would have gone with the kidnapping strategy and I would be already in the hand of batman. Now I'm in the known world of their superheroes, the superheroes know about the Crows and they know about the X-gene. That information can go from good to bad in minutes. Though Kori did know about Jean and Scott, though it was years ago they have traveled through many universes with a small team. I would have been about 10 when this happened and my mother didn't take me there for classes till I was 12. In their lectures, they didn't mention anything like this they did bring in Doctor Strange to teach those of us who could understand how to perform magic. I Now I'm sitting on an insanely comfortable bed knees curled up to my chest just reminiscing. I have been told to use my abilities only when necessary as not to attract any unwanted attention. But what did I do, I screw up my chances of living normally till Doc Strange can pull me back only to find I'm not in my home where I should be. Everything was going so smoothly till now.

The door opens behind me and by the almost silent footfalls, I can tell it's Damian. Nightmare has jumped into my arms forcing me to let go off my legs and watch as the boy drags a chair to face me.

"I suppose you want the whole story now," I said barely looking at him.

"I wasn't going to talk about that yet."

"What did you think you would find in the journals that my mother wrote?"

"An answer on how to stop the Crows."

"You most likely will."

"Than what's in them."

I sigh looking him dead in the eye, pulling myself together for this.

"My mother didn't only study history, in my dimension, she studied all sorts of fields one day she was asked to study something and was gone for almost six months. We hardly heard from her but just enough to know she was alive so naturally when she came back she swore me into secrecy. She explained that she had gone to another world entirely, she studies with them and when she came back more time had passed than when she was there. One journal explaining how she got the and how to get in and another explaining what she found, and the rules for everything she experienced there. She learned things no human should know and kept it from the people she worked for and everyone else. She-she found Avalon, lived among the fey in return for her curiosity and genuine interest they helped her make a guide and history of all fairy and Fae both the pure and the equally disturbed." I reach in my bag and pull out the books from missing from the very research my mother so loved. One being ordinary leather-bound and the other two bear a glowing purple gem on both sides of a very purple dark Tome thick and pooling with some sort of energy as the gem. I give him a serious look gripping both books. "She left it to me but I haven't read them yet, I...I couldn't bring myself to. It might be better used in your hands anyway. Though I shouldn't I still trust you for some reason, so under the conditions that you only use what you find for the better of those in need you may find your information. The journals, however, will stay within my sight understood." He nods, I start to give the leather books to him he stops me.

"I don't want to see them before you," He takes the books from my hands and places them back in the bag. "If you are convinced that I should still read them, then I will convince where ever you wish to study them." He sits on the bed next to me staring out the window. "What I want to talk about is how we get Father not to view you as a threat and as a friend. I went over it with Starfire and we both agree this is the best option." He pauses before he continues. "We're you a hero in your world?"

"You want me to do hero's work and gain a positive reputation so that he's more willing to work with me than slowly forcing out of me."

"Yes."

"How do you know about the X-gene?"

"It was in our database from when Jean Grey and Cyclops had visited. They helped take down an invasion of the skrul and took them back with them to their own dimension. Father took some DNA samples to work with and ask about their abilities. There are entire folders on the subject alone." He pauses again running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Not for that, for everything else."

"Yes that is very much on you but it's also on me. But if I had left you with Crow poison in your blood you would either turn into an undead flesh puppet in my room or die. That would not have gone down well for either of us. I was also mostly upset you broke my window and wanted compensation," I see him visibly tense and clench his teeth. "and didn't even bother to say thank you."

"I Fixed your awful goddammed window isn't that thanks enough." He glares at me.

"Was it? After all, you did spy on me and report it to the Dark Knight." I fall back onto the bed. "There's no getting out of this now might as well get used to it."

"You shouldn't be this comfortable with what's happening, I wouldn't"

"Then why are you smiling ya weirdo, It's almost creepy."

"Tsk, just hand me your computer so I can pull up Star Trek, I would like to finish and begin the movies." I hand him my laptop and he walks over to the wall in front of the bed.

"Um, you know we watch on that computer you making a get away with."

"Yes but the enormous 4k TV is here." He pushes a button I didn't even see before and as promised a TV appears. He smirks at what I assume is my expression. He opens my computer and within minutes Star Trek is cast on the TV. "Please hold your applause till after the show."

"Did you just make a joke? Are you joking now?"

"Aren't I allowed to have a sense of humor?" I Look at Nightmare who has the same thought in his head and I look back at Damian.

"Nope, Nada, No way."

"You know, you're the only one who has talked to me that way and lived."

"I should consider myself lucky then huh."My gaze falls to his leg, It's poorly bandaged so I pull my scales and Med-kit from my bag. " But before I forget I need to treat your leg before your tissue becomes necrotic. You can watch while I work, but you need to swallow one more of the "glittered plastic"."

_____________________________________________________________

"How do you make them?"

"The scales?" I pause stoping the wrap on the angry-looking tentacle mark on his skin.

"What do you think I was talking about?" I smile evilly.

"I thought you were talking about my jokes and wonderful sense of humor." I tie off the bandage and put away my first aid kit. "But If you must know it has to rain first, and I have to be in it. The acidity in the rain is was caused the scales to form but there has to be enough of it. In Gotham, the rain has plenty of it, It soaks into my skin and drains my health which is why I was sick for so long. In return for taking my health, the scales form with healing agents that even baffle me. Normally I would take one and feel fine after but someone decided to take them."

"Do you pull them off?"

"Takes too long and much too painful, I just pour scalding hot water on myself and they pull away from the skin. I clean them and there you have it. Health restoring scales." He stares at me, like I said I pour milk before cereal and then pop it in the microwave for 30 seconds in that order.

"Aren't there better ways to remove them?"

"Yes, but those are back at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters I couldn't pack it with me so I had to find other methods."

He silent again so I put my stuff in the closet, take my Suit out from the bag, and place it on the hanger, the vibranium fibers shimmer in the soft lights then I stuff the rest of my things in there. I have to tell Professor Xavier what's happened on the check update next week with any luck the multi-functional com-piece found the data by now and I can see what they already know. I inwardly sigh, closing the closet and making my way back to the bed. I see Damian drawn into the scene playing on the screen, Data has made his sacrifice saving the Enterprise. I wasn't expecting to last the cleaning to last that long, but then again the poisons from the suction cups dug deeper than I thought. I put some more things away in drawers even though I didn't have much to bring. "We probably should head to bed, I imagine I have to do a proper introduction and demonstrate some form of my power."

"Yes, probably." He gets up grabbing the two scales I gave him for when he starts feeling pain again. Moving swiftly to the door, he takes one more look back then leaves. My eyes fall on Nightmare who sleeps soundly on the end of the bed. I Climb into the warm comforter letting the warmth surround me. I don't even notice myself drifting till all I can hear is static signaling that tonight was going to be a dreamless one.

_____________________________________________________________

"What exactly can you do?" Starfire walks me down to the center of a metallic room filled with weapons and tools, no doubt the training room. I look around more absorbing the room but still answer the question.

"If I see something I can almost instantly learn it or adapt to it, powers, fighting styles, languages I just have to see or hear it. I've had to control it in order not to learn everything and overload happened one time was not pretty."

"What do you mean by almost instantly?"

"Things like shape-shifting are hard to master, but if I concentrate enough I can alter my physical appearance though it takes five minutes to get there and can't hold the form very well after an hour. The first time I saw someone change form my body tried to copy it but I broke my hand instead. But oddly enough I can learn most other powers and knowledge just fine."

"Really? Well just to check could you copy this?" Starfire lifts her hand and green energy forms around it. I lift my hand to match hers and form the same energy in my body, though not green It's a lilac purple. "Sorry still have trouble getting the colors right." The woman stares in awe at my hand, the knowledge of how to use the ability is stored in my memory. I turn my hand light off and look around. She had given me the tour of the building and probably saved this for last to test what I can do. They did the same at XSFGY and had us fight in the ever-changing challenge/training room. I hear the door open and two cheery voices call out.

"Hey Y/N, about to train?" Garfield, the boy in green calls out from the railing where the door is accompanied by Jamie how still looks half asleep.

"I was just about to test her now, could you all stay there, I'm going to pull the full immersion-based training." She floats to a podium on the far side of the room. the area around me pixelated before stilling into a jungle heat and all. Monsters appear from the undergrowth enough level but not easy looking. I raise two fingers to the sky and strike lightning on them Increasing the voltage when one didn't go down, I even open a few portals in the body to warp holes from the flesh. It took about a few minutes to finish and for the simulation to fall. The dark misty cloud vanishes when I flick my wrist. I hear cheering from the side, I turn to face them everyone was now there.

"No way! Did you just see that!!" Jamie is now wide awake sharing an amazing look with Garfield, Raven is a little shocked, while Damian holds a stoic face. I feel a hand on my shoulder and follow it up to the orange-haired woman. I don't catch that she isn't stopping and is dragging me out of the room. With the way her hand had angled, I dragged out facing the other people in the room. She moves so fast that they get so small to quickly "You did excellently today, I'm so happy to welcome you to the team! We shall celebrate with a feast fit for kings and I shall cook it."

"Wait!"

"Kori!"

"Aw hell no!"

"YOU COOKED THE OTHER DAY!"

They all start running after us, shouting and trying to stop the woman. I feel refreshed after getting the OK for using my powers finally releasing some of the tension I've felt. I feel exhausted though, probably anticipating all the social interactions yet to come.

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