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vase-of-lilies · 8 months

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❀ Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Bunny Hybrid!Reader (F)

❀ Non-con, dubcon, use of a cage, captivity + using restraints, violence, mind manipulation/putting someone in a daze, guys - fun fact; ivory was chiseled and made into a dildo in the 1800’s. So, expect that lol, and more. Do not read if you are uncomfortable with very dark elements.

❀ I am usually good with warning everything that is in my stories, but this time due to limited space and a lot of warnings, I will be only doing the harsher warnings.

❀ Disclaimer and Authors Note: The pictures only represent aesthetic and themes. There is no certain skin color, body type, ethnicity, or description other than Y/n and “you”. Credit to who made the pictures in the banner as well.

❀ Sigh… I feel like all of these are the same, just a little different each time. I try to change it up, but a lot of these are similar in plot, description, and ending. I want these to turn out well, but I can’t help but feel that people don’t like them because they don’t comment on them or give feedback. All I want is a funny comment, a detailed comment about something someone loved about the story, or something that they were confused about or just thought was plain stupid of Y/n. All I want is feedback!

Hunting season. It was the worst time of year for the bunny hybrids, yet still, you were picking berries in a bright dress your mother made you. You knew it was dangerous. However, you knew that you were fast and agile like a real bunny. But even the fastest rabbit couldn’t beat the slowest tortoise because of the overconfidence each little rabbit held in their little head.

While you gathered the berries into your basket, you hummed to yourself, not a thought in your mind. Every now and then, your tail would twitch, something it does when you are doing something you love or when you are scared. But you loved gathering, and you were not currently scared.

Your humming immediately stops when you hear the straining of an arrow in a bow. It was a creaky sound that every bunny could recognize. Your ears shot straight up, your head turning in all directions to try and find the source of the hunter. One last turn and it was too late; the bounce of the bowstring snapping back into place came first, then the pain of the arrow piercing through your shoulder blade.

Falling to the ground, you frown as your berries scatter around you. You can hardly think while you scramble into the bush in front of you, holding your ears against your head so you don’t bring more attention to yourself. Your body trembles, rustling the brush you are hiding in, and you silently curse yourself at your shaking.

“Here, little bunny… come out, come out wherever you are!” A voice taunts from outside the bush. You see the boots of your pursuer from where you crouch inside the bush, whimpering as the arrow in your back snags on a branch.

The footsteps stop and turn towards the bush. You freeze, and your ears slip from your hands, rustling the bush even more. The hunter steps up to the bush, and she spots your gray ears. With a smirk, she reaches into the shrub and grasps them in her hands tightly, causing you to tumble from the bush and onto the ground.

Blood streamed down your back, and you tried to crawl away, only for the hunter to chuckle and reach in her pouch for something else. You look behind you, screaming as she stalks closer to you, a tranquilizer dart in her hand.

“Come on, little bunny. Don’t make this difficult,” She says, kneeling beside your pitiful form. As you beg her not to hurt you, she ignores you, pushing your head to the side and exposing your neck. “Stay still, and this won’t hurt!” She shouts at you, still struggling to get you to calm down. As the dart comes closer to your neck, you struggle even more, but she is powerful and quick.

The needle punctures your skin, and the tranquilizer enters your blood flow within seconds. It was initially slow, just a little dizzy, so you tried to get up. The pain in your back was the least of your worries, only getting away from the hunter on your mind. But the drug was working fast, and soon, you found yourself on the ground again, your eyes closing and your mind succumbing to darkness.

~~~~~~~

Wanda smirks as you finally fall unconscious in front of her, your fuzzy ears flopping onto the ground with a soft thump. Your fluffy little tail was twitching again, terrified of what would happen. Wanda kneels down by your sleeping body and moves the hair from in front of your face. “You’re gonna be my perfect little pet, aren’t you?” She gently brushes her fingers over the skin of your cheek and smiles at your breaths.

Laying a small blanket over your body, she picks you up and takes you home to assess your injuries. As she enters her home, she shuts the door and lays you on her bed. She frowns at the arrow that sticks from your back and gently tries to pull it out. You whimper, the drug unfortunately not numbing the pain.

Wanda sighs softly and grabs her knife, slowly cutting the skin surrounding the arrow. She dabs the wound with a small cloth as it starts to bleed again, and once the last line matching the shape of the arrow is carved, the arrow slides out of your back with ease. Reaching for the first aid kit, she unties your dress and slips it off your body, dressing your wound and healing some of it with her powers. She leaves you in the right amount of pain to become submissive to her, but enough that your death will not be on her hands.

Tying the last bandage around your chest and under your arms, she lays you on your back and grabs the chain connected to a metal collar from under the bed. She sets it on the bed next to you and goes to the closet to bring the cage out. She smirks at the bars, knowing you will never escape from her.

Lastly, she connects the chain to the cage's base and looks over at you on her bed. She sets the collar on top of the kennel and saunters over to your naked form. She ghosts her fingers down your belly and the mound between your legs. Shaking her head, she knows she wants to wait until you are awake to hold your wiggling ears while you struggle to escape her. She loves it when her prey struggles in her hands; it sparks something inside of her.

Picking you up again, she carries you to the cage in the corner of the room, opening the door and laying you down against the thin-blanketed bottom and laying your head against the straw pillow set at the top of the cage. Before locking you up for the night, she grabbed the collar and clasped it around your neck, matching the holes together at the back and looping a padlock around it. With the collar secured around your neck, the chain connected to the bars, and the moon rising, Wanda locked the cage and put a blanket over the top to cover the whole thing, leaving you in complete darkness.

~~~~~~~

When morning approached, your body started to wake up first. Your mind was still hazy, and you felt like you were in a dream. Your ears moved slightly, your tail wiggled just a little, and your eyes moved under their lids.

It was raining. You could hear the raindrops outside. Outside where? Where am I? Your curiosity turns to concern the moment your eyes finally open. A dark, furry blanket covers the bars surrounding you, dimming the light almost completely. You try sitting up, but the pressure you put on your arm makes you whimper in pain. The arrow wound on your back was the only thing revealing where you were.

The tranquilizer made you sleep, but it didn’t make you forget. You remembered where you were, and you remembered who you were with. That damned human. A simple hum or chuckle could force you into submission instantly, knowing what Wanda is capable of. She has the eye of a hawk when it comes to aiming her bow at the poor little creature she sets her sights on.

Your soft ears twitched at the sound of shuffling from outside of the covered cage, pulling your attention away from the pain in your shoulder blade. Wandas walking caused the blanket to flutter, and your instinct was to lay back down and pretend you were asleep still. You wrapped your arms around your exposed body the best you could, closed your eyes and waited.

In anticipation, your leg started shaking, as well as your tail. The little ball of fluff just above your bum was a radar for danger. If it wiggled, twitched, shifted, or moved an inch, you could sense danger was near. This was a time when your tail was not wrong. Not by one bit.

There was a soft knock on the bars above you, but you didn't move. Another one, this time a little forceful- still, you did not move to 'wake up.'

"Little bunny… I know you're awake. You're shaking this whole damn thing." Wanda laughed softly at the shivering cage before her, your anxious body practically causing an earthquake around you. Your hands went to the collar around your neck, and a tear fell from your eye onto the pillow below your cheek. I'm not getting out of here.

Wanda pulled the blanket from the top of the cage and looked down at you, curled into a little ball with your fluffy ears over your face. "Oh, come on, don't hide from me," She says, kneeling in front of your prison. Aggravated, she grabs the chain connected to your collar and pulls, forcing your face to come right to the bars.

A whimper escapes your throat, and your eyes stare up at Wanda with fear. She smiles sweetly at you, her pearly white teeth giving you a shite-eating grin. “I know you're scared,” she says, holding the chain tighter. In response to your desperate attempts at escaping the collar, Wanda laughs. She leans in, her breath brushing against your face. “But don't worry,” she whispers. “I'll take good care of you.”

Your face flushed with tears, and you began to speak in a trembling voice, "I wanna go home; my momma will be worried about me." You thought of your mother, who would be excited to see you and looking forward to the pie she made for you. You missed her embrace and the warmth of her love. You wished to return, see her smile, and feel her passion. You closed your eyes and thought about what it would be like to be home.

"Don't you dare close your eyes," growls Wanda, causing you to open them wide. She looked at you with dilated pupils, clearly craving something. Something only you could give her.

She finally releases the chain attached to your collar, causing you to fall back into the cage. You push yourself against the back of the cage, trying to distance yourself from Wanda as the pain in your back intensifies. With a chuckle, Wanda opens the door and reaches for the chain to pull you out. Yanking you out of the cage, you fall to your hands and knees, forced to crawl forward to her.

Once you get into an arm's length of her, she grabs your ears and pulls you to her. You yelp, trying to cover yourself, but keep yourself up too. You can't feel much pain from your ears, but as she pulls you closer to her, the fear builds up in your belly, and you pull back. Failing, she wraps her arms around you and holds you against her chest. The chain is long enough to reach her bed, so as she picks you up, the chain drags behind you. You kick your legs and try maneuvering your way out of her arms, your body only being hugged tighter.

As Wanda sits on the bed, she holds you in her lap. Her body is much larger than yours, as your hybrid genes make you smaller than humans. She only needed one hand over your belly to hold you still, your legs being pinned open by hers. Her other hand roams your naked chest, tweaking each nipple in her fingers. She buries her nose into your soft ears and hums as she feels your little cotton tail rub against her clothed cunt.

You whimper and throw your head back any chance, but Wanda is quick. The chain is already in her hand, pulling it up and choking you. You cough, your hands going to your neck, trying to find the chain to pull down. Your strength is nothing compared to Wanda's; her chuckles fill your ears again.

Your breaths are short and shallow, and the lack of oxygen getting to your brain becomes dangerous. Your vision starts to cloud, and Wanda notices, giving the chain some slack. "You aren't going out on me just yet," she whispers in your ear. On the bedside table, she grabs a ring of rope she had put there earlier. Grabbing your wrists, she wraps the rope around a couple of times and ties a firm knot after. She then pulls the excess cord to keep your hands next to your chest, exposing your pussy.

She smiles against your neck, and her teeth nip at your sensitive skin. "Mmm, my little bun bun, so soft and cute," She whispers again, "I am going to do nasty things to you, and you are going to like it..."

Pulling your hands above your head, she wraps the rope through your collar to keep them still.

With her hands now free, she cups both breasts, kneading the ample skin and pinching your nipples every second. You whimper as salty tears stream down your cheeks, only fueling Wanda to do more. Her hand moves down your belly to your wet petals, waiting to be played with. As her other hand follows, her fingers spread your folds to expose your quivering clit.

Even though Wanda could not see your pussy, she loved how it felt. "So fuckin' wet, and its all for me, isn't it?" You shake your head vigorously, not wanting to fall into whatever trap she had set. Her index finger slowly rubs your clit in small circles, the burning of your bundle of nerves causing you to whimper and jolt. She holds you tighter, smirking at the warmth of the skin around your bud.

Her lips press soft kisses to your head as she rubs your clit more, her other hand prodding at your hole. A breath is stolen from you as she enters two fingers into your pussy, pumping slowly. You cringe at the squelching you hear, and your legs instinctively try to close, but Wanda's legs hold them open. You reluctantly lay your head against her chest, your ears falling limp against your head.

Wanda quickly jumped on the opportunity to hold your head up by your ears, pulling them to hold your head up straight. Wanda's fist clenched your ears tightly, not letting go as you tried to tear yourself away from her.

As she rubbed your clit faster, your orgasm approached more quickly than expected. Your pulsing pussy squeezes her fingers as you cum, her finger on your clit not stopping. It burned, and it hurt, but in such a good way. She continues to rub, pulling a second orgasm out of you, smirking as your juices squirt from your hole.

The blanket before you shows a puddle of your own spend, and you whimper as she pulls your ears up again. "Good little bun bun, cumming for your master like a good girl," She lets go of your ears and moves her legs, uncaging yours in the process. Before you can scramble away, she pushes you to your stomach, turning you to the bed frame. Grabbing the rope from your collar, she pulls your hands up to the bars and ties another sturdy knot.

You struggle, pull, fight, kick, but nothing stops Wanda from getting what she wants. She finishes securing you to the bed, and her hand harshly spanks your ass. You squeal and try to curl against yourself, but she hits you again. "Legs straight little one, or I'll tie those too." You listened, not wanting any more rough rope on your body.

She was unpredictable. She spanked you a couple more times before smoothing her hand over the raw skin. Or she would pull your tail and ears and, shortly after, softly squeeze your fluffy tail at the base of your back. The tears had not stopped either, the pillow beneath your face soaked with the salty water from your eyes.

Wandas' abuse finally stops after a couple of minutes, her hands softly squeezing your ass in her hands. You hurt; your ass is raw, your pussy is red and puffy, and your ears are on fire. She enters the small kitchen, washes her hands, and gets a glass of water. Setting the cup on the table next to the bed, she unties your wrists and helps you sit up. You whimper as the soft yet rough blanket rubs against the skin of your ass.

The cup's rim hits your lips, and you look up at Wanda in confusion. Why is she taking care of you? You think to yourself.

Not wanting to seem ungrateful, you take a sip of the cool water, sighing as it goes down your sore throat. Your screams did a number on you. Finishing the glass of water, Wanda smiles down at you and gently pets your fluffy ears. They twitch in response to her hands and instinctively move closer to her warmth and gentleness.

"Good little bunny..." She says, reaching down to hold your hands. "Listen to me," She commands. "You are going to be good and sleep in your cage tonight. Then in the morning I can get you some clothes. How does that sound? Hm?" Letting go of your hands, they softly rub up and down your thighs. You don't answer her, only giving her a nasty look, resulting in a disappointing sigh from her.

"Come on, lets go." She says, helping you stand by picking you up by your armpits. Once you are on your feet, she gently leads you to the cage and pushes you down by your shoulders. Your hands and knees hit the ground, and her hand softly pats your bum, hinting for you to crawl inside. You comply, moving into the cage and lying against the pillow.

Sleep hits you like a wall, unaware the water was drugged. You see Wanda shut and lock the door, reaching through the bars to kiss your fingers.

"Run, my little rabbit, run and play in your dreams. And when you wake up, we can get to know each other a little better." She whispers, softly holding your fingers that fall limply by the edge. Pulling away, she moves back to her bed, cleaning up the blanket with a wave of a hand.

Stripping off her dress, she lays down and watches your sleeping body, fantasizing about everything she wants to do to you.

Thanks to the sun's early light, the room was bathed in a soft, golden glow, creating a calm environment. With a contented sigh, Wanda stretches her arms above her head, feeling relief as her spine cracks into place. She sits up, allowing her gaze to drift towards the cage in the corner of the room. A beautiful scene awaited her under a soft blanket—the outline of her little bunny sleeping peacefully behind the bars.

The whisper of a soft, melodious voice fills the air, promising adventure and connection. You follow the sound, your ears twitching with curiosity.

You dash through the meadow, encountering a figure, a large shadow surrounding it. It's an eerie, ghostly presence shrouded in an aura of ice and hatred. The figure emitted a terrifying, irresistible pull, hypnotizing you to come forward.

As Wanda took in her adorable pet, she couldn't help but smile, knowing that her bunny was safe and sound, nestled in its cozy cage, surrounded by a world of love and care. Of course, that is what Wanda wants to create for you. Your feelings were most definitely not mutual. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she approaches the door to your prison, unlocking the padlock and opening the door.

This bewitching being extends a skeletal hand, fingers adorned with grotesque, withered elegance, beckoning further from the meadow behind you. You approach carefully, drawn by an irresistible urge. The hand reaches down, petting your soft ears on your fluffy head.

Instantly, you are transformed into the hybrid you are now, the world around you turning into a dark abyss.

As you whimper in your dream, Wanda can't help but wonder what you're dreaming about. Is it a pleasant dream or a nightmare? She knows she shouldn't disturb you, but the temptation to playfully interact with your vision is too strong to resist.

Tendrils of black smoke shoot from the figure, twisting and writhing like malevolent serpents, suffocating the air with dread. Your heart drops to your stomach, your naked skin pebbling with goosebumps. The figure stands there, the wind around you starting to pick up. Smoke transforms into a massive tornado above you, picking you up effortlessly and spinning you around. It pulls you towards the figure, a featureless face other than a mouth meeting your eyes.

Your heart races with terror as the figure's mouth opens wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth. The smoke swirls around you, suffocating you, tightening their grip, making it impossible to break free. The closer you get to its mouth, the faster your heart beats and the quicker your breath becomes.

Carefully, she reaches out her hand and gently touches your shoulder, curious to see how you'll react in your fantasy world.

Screaming is useless now, as it will only be silenced by the dream realm. Even your punches and struggles are slowed down by an invisible force. The smokey tendrils bring you closer to the figure's mouth in slow motion, and you undoubtedly know the inevitable outcome. With a sudden, horrifying lunge, the figure's jaws close around you, yet no pain is felt. Your vision is surrounded by darkness-

You jolt awake at the feeling of Wands fingers against your skin, and your breaths come fast. You struggle to shake off the lingering fear from the dream, your eyes darting everywhere to find the source of touch. Once you see Wanda staring back at you, you instinctively shrink back, unsure of her intentions since the night before.

"Calm down, little rabbit, I'm not going to hurt you," She says, holding her hands up in a false surrender. "Come on out, bunny," Your ears twitch as her hand enters the cage, her fingers wrapping around your ankle. She pulls gently, trying to coax you from your spot in the corner of the enclosure. You don't budge.

Getting frustrated, she grabs the chain of your collar and pulls you out. Once you are out, she holds you by the ears and pulls you to her bed. "You listen to me!" She growls, crawling on top of your trembling form. In the blink of an eye, her demeanor changes completely. Her eyes no longer glaring at you, her mouth no longer degrading your behavior.

Her right hand softly caresses your tear-stained cheek, wiping away any stray tears that have fallen. Her fingers smooth over your [length, color, texture hair] hair and behind your bunny ears, which are relatively sensitive to feeling good.

As she scratches, she smiles at your foot kicking from below her. "Aw, what did I find?" Wanda asks, persisting in scratching behind your ears. Once she stops scratching, she gently pulls your ears together and holds them in her fist. "Gosh, look how cute you are..." she chuckles at the little wiggle of your nose and looks over your face.

She let go of your soft ears, a tender smile on her lips. Leaning down, Wandas' lips met yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. At first, you struggled, protesting to be this close to your captor. But once Wanda's fingers reached your neck, you surrendered. She gently squeezed your neck, not choking you but asserting her dominance above you.

She pulled away from your lips so quickly you had to suck in a breath, the kiss taking your breath away, her breath also fanning against your cheek. You hate to admit that the kiss felt genuine, as if she truly loved you. Your mind told you many different things, but "run" was not one of them right now.

In the dim morning light, her green eyes lock onto your [eye color]-ed ones, silently telling you to let her into your mind. With great reluctance, you allowed her. You opened the gates to your consciousness, your deepest and darkest secrets showing themselves to Wanda. There were the little things, like your favorite food and color. And how you like your coffee in the morning or if you prefer quilted blankets over fluffy ones. If you like to sleep in or wake up early and if you read before bed or journal.

As she takes in all of your mundane likes and preferences, she pushes herself into a deeper part of your mind that knowing loves what she does to you. Every pump of her fingers, every orgasm and moan she pulls from you, this part of your mind will show her everything. ‘Mmm, a little rope bunny, huh? You love being tied up… now thats cute.’ Wanda speaks in her head, and you subconsciously hear everything she says.

Wanda smiles down at your dazed and confused expression, knowing full well that you are under her spell. She takes this opportunity to undo the chain connected to your collar, letting it drop off the bed and to the floor. On the bedside table, is the rope that held your hands to the bed frame as she spanked you. She smiles as she gets to use it again.

She moves off of your frozen body, settling you at the top of the bed with your head on a pillow. Grabbing the rope, she wraps one piece to your right hand, pulling your limp arm to the corner of the bed. She does the same to the left arm, putting you in a spread-out position. Nowhere to go, nowhere to escape. She decides right now that this is how she likes you; all tied up and at her mercy.

But Wanda wanted more! So she reaches under her bed to grab another two lengths of rope. She spreads your legs and ties both ankles to the bottom corners of the bed frame, looking at her work with a smug smile on her lips.

Having you still and under her control was all she needed. But now she wants your full attention. With a snap of her fingers, you are back and aware of your surroundings. Your eyes immediately find Wanda at the end of the bed, tears beginning to form.

“Please, I- I can’t do this anymore,” You say, tears pooling in your eyes as you pull at the rope around your limbs. She sighs and moves back to the head of the bed, sitting down next to you and gently wiping a tear from your cheek.

“I want to make you feel good, little one. You know I can do that…” Wanda says, her hand moving from your cheek, down to your neck. Her fingers gently wrap around the delicate part of your body, and she chuckles as you try to pull away. “There’s no escaping me, bunny. You’re mine now.”

You whimper, tears falling down your temples as you look up at the ceiling. Wanda strokes your hair softly and moves back on top of you, strategically placing her knee right against your wet folds. She gives you no room to move away from her, the movement you do have only makes you rub your clit against her knee. She smirks at your failed attempt to move from your current predicament.

“Oh my little bunny, trying to escape,” She moves her knee up and down, your slick coating her skin. “You have no idea what you are getting into, do you little rabbit,” Her voice laced with malicious intent, her eyes unreadable. Dread fills your stomach as a puff of red energy surrounds Wanda's naked waist. A leather harness wraps the way around her, a pearly, white, penis-shaped toy hooked to the end of it. “This. This is what you are getting into. Im going to fuck you into oblivion, and you are going to love it. You are going to take every little thing I give you, do you understand?” You don’t respond at first, your eyes glued to the white toy in front of you.

Wanda's hand squeezes your neck and your gaze shoots up to her face. “I said, do you understand?” She repeats. You nod your head and a whimper is forced from your system as she moves her hand from your neck down your chest. She scoots down a little bit, settling between your spread legs. Her cock sits proudly at your entrance, your slick already gathering from the sight of it.

With a smile, moves both hands to your pussy, rubbing your folds and spreading them open. Her thumb rubs small circles on your exposed clit, the sensation overwhelming. A moan leaves your mouth, and you scold yourself internally. You were mortified at how open and unprotected you are, yet your pussy got wetter by the second.

Wanda's other fingers entered your soaking hole, stretching you out to fit her cock. She wanted to make sure you were more than ready. Dragging spectral moans from your throat for a few moments, she felt like your little hole was ready for her.

She pulled her fingers from your pussy and put them to your lips, forcing them past, and held them on your tongue. “Clean up the mess you made.” Her command made you shake, but you listened, not in a condition to disobey. You sucked on her fingers like your life depended on it, making sure that every drop of your juices were gone.

The humiliation of having your body betray you, the tears continued. Wanda enjoyed every bit of that, leaning down and licking the tears from your face after removing her fingers from your mouth.

“P-please, please stop, I- I don’t want this,” You sob, trying to move anywhere, but are unable, due to the master rope work keeping you still.

Wanda ignored you, spitting on her hand and rubbing it along her cock. The cold ivory poked at your entrance and she leaned over you, grabbing your fluffy ears in her fist. “God, I’ve been wanting to do this forever now…” She says, pushing into your tight cunt.

A pained moan rips from your throat, tears falling down your cheeks as her cock splits you in two. Your arms and legs pull at the rope around them, trying anything to get free but nothing works. The breaths entering and exiting your mouth are fast and dangerous, panicking at the sheer size of Wanda's cock.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Bunny, look at me.” Wanda says, letting go of your ears to cup your cheek. She stopped moving when the moan you emitted left your mouth, and her other hand immediately went to your clit to try and soothe the pain. It helped a little bit, but not enough. Your sobs were heartbreaking to her and she pushed in a little bit more.

“Breathe for me, my little rabbit, breathe for me. I know you can do it,” She whispers, leaning down to meet your lips in a soft and gentle kiss. As you kiss her back, you whimper as she bottoms out inside of you. “You’re doing so good for me, baby, so good.” Her words flutter the butterflies in your belly, and your tight walls squeeze her cock lightly.

“H-hurts,” Is all you can muster out, more tears rolling down your temples. Wanda shakes her head and makes you look into her eyes.

“Bunny, look at me… this feels good, right? It feels so good.” Her eyes start to glow a deep red, pushing your mind and body into a euphoric hallucination. She rubs your clit and continues to talk to you. “You are doing so good, my love. This feels so, so good, and you love the feeling of my cock inside of your little pussy, don’t you?” You nod, her words of hypnosis causing the pain to feel pleasurable. “Good, you’re doing amazing…” she says, starting to move her hips, slowly pushing in and out of your pussy.

The pain subsides, as does her power over your mind. The pleasure is becoming real, and quite enjoyable. You close your eyes, balling your hands into fists as she brushes her thumb over your cheek. “Hey, look at me, honey, can you do that?” You obey, looking up into her eyes. “Good little bunny, such a good girl,” She praises you, and your tail wiggles in response.

Your heart is racing in your chest as she starts to move faster, her other fingers rubbing circles over your clit. She pushes you closer to your release, the feeling similar to running up a hill, only to jump and see the large drop on the other side. Reaching a good speed, she slows her fingers, wanting to make you cum from that sensitive spot right inside of your pussy.

“I know your close, bun bun, I can feel it,” She whispers, moans falling from your mouth with every thrust of her hips. She is right, your orgasm is just within reach, and she wants to see you fall apart underneath her. “Cum for me, baby, you can do it,” the praises enter your ears and hit your soul, pushing you right to the top of that hill.

You cum hard on her cock, loud moans filling Wandas' ears like music. With your ears flopping with every thrust, she smiles and takes a mental picture of this moment, wanting it to last forever. Soon, your orgasm washes over you, leaving you in a panting, tired mess. “You did so good my little bunny, so good.” Your cheeks heat up, submission being the only thing you can think of right now.

“P-please,” you whisper as you pull at the restraints. You had never felt this much pleasure at one time, the need to be held and taken care of was the only thing on your mind. No escape, struggle, rage, fear, nothing was on your mind. Wanda could sense this, and without hesitation she gently pulled out of you, cleaning you up with the apron of her dress draped over the end of the bed.

With care, she unties your limbs, kissing each of them after they are free. Once the rest of the rope was pulled off of your skin, you curled in on yourself. Your ears fall back in meekness and your tail wiggles struggling to calm down. Wanda smiles, lying down behind you on the bed. She takes you in her arms kisses your neck and pets your ears to soothe you.

Her whispers are the last thing you hear before your eyes begin to droop in exhaustion. “Its alright, my little rabbit. You’re safe with me…”

“I- Im- Im safe…” Sleepily, you respond, knowing deep down that you are safer than you will ever be outside of these walls.

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toournextadventure · 1 year

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Not sure if you're accepting requests but... I was thinking about Wednesday x gn!reader who asks her to the Rave'N dance then she's surprised cause reader matches her outfit and doesn't wear the correct theme of the dance. For the first time Wednesday is genuinely astonished and likes reader even more when they're covered in blood (red paint lol) 🤭

You know the vibe, our girl has a VERY specific taste in partners 😌

we match

Dances were pointless. School dances were even more pointless; they were truly nothing more than an excuse to put a bunch of teenagers into one room and put the social hierarchy on full display. Wednesday could admire the sadomasochism of it all, but that did not mean she wanted to attend. She was not her mother, she was not her father, and she did not care about the Rave’N.

She only agreed to go with you because she felt sorry for you, that was all.

“You look stunning!” Enid practically screamed in the most shrill voice Wednesday had ever heard.

“I look ridiculous,” Wednesday commented, although she would silently admit she did like the dress.

“It’s not the theme, but it suits you,” Enid continued more seriously with a small nod. “When is your date getting here?”

“Not a date,” Wednesday said, “but they should be here soon.”

As if she had summoned you herself, there was a knock on the door. Enid was on the verge of running to the door when Wednesday gave her a glare that had her shaking in her obnoxiously loud white boots. Wednesday herself walked to the door and opened it, fully prepared to ask if you were ready to torture her with this stupid dance and-

-and your outfit was black. You matched her dress.

“You look stunning,” you said with a small smile. It was nauseating. She wanted you to do it again.

“That’s what I said,” Enid chimed in; she ignored the look Wednesday sent her this time. “And you both match!”

“Well yeah, she’s my date,” you said with a shrug. Wednesday glared at your word usage. “But speaking of matching…” you pulled your hands from behind your back and held up two black rose corsages. “Now we can pull up in style.”

“Oh my god, that’s so cute!” Enid cheered.

But Wednesday wasn’t listening to her. No, she was focused on your hands, and the way your fingers brushed against her skin as you slid the corsage over her wrist. The way you just yanked yours over your own wrist without the same tenderness. Or your tongue poking out just past your lips as you readjusted your outfit, smiling once it was the way you wanted it.

“You ready to go?” You asked, holding your arm out for Wednesday to take.

She didn’t say anything, just slipped her arm through yours and let you lead the way. You walked tall with your head held high; unusual for you. Yet as soon as you were with her you were a new person. Heads turned as you both stepped into the dance, but you just looked down at Wednesday.

“Everyone is staring,” you said just loud enough for her to hear. “How about we give them something to talk about?”

You held your hand out for her to take, and Wednesday hesitated for only a moment before taking it; it was warm and soft. The way you moved was like a spectral ghost, feet barely touching the floor, movements so smooth it was mesmerising. But what Wednesday was still so focused on was your outfit.

What had possessed you to wear black? It wasn’t your typical colour palette; you wore it, but not religiously. Yet today, the day of all days, you wore all black. You knew the theme of the Rave’N this year was white, and you loved white. Had you truly done all of this for her?

If so, it was foolish. No one should abandon their interests or desires for someone else. That led to weakness, and weakness could be exploited. By doing this in front of everyone, you were admitting that she was your weakness. Someone was going to use it against you, or worse, try to use it against her to get something. Not only were you admitting your own fallacy, you were setting her up for exploitation.

And yet, Wednesday had to admire you. She wanted to admire you. You had accepted your feelings, had accepted the possible looks and words thrown at you, and you had done it anyway. For some unknown reason, you had gone out of your way to wear something black, something that matched her dress perfectly, and you were doing it with a smile on your face.

No. No, she didn’t like you. At least not aloud.

You ended the dance with a dip, holding her suspended in air with a smile on your lips. She still liked it. But your smile morphed into a slight frown, your face displaying confusion. What were you looking at? Wednesday was about to open her mouth to ask when she noticed a new red spot on your nose. Then on your cheek, where it dripped down.

Those few drops were the opening of a floodgate, and the sprinklers went off. You pulled her back up to her feet, holding her close and doing your best to shield her from the bloody rain. She didn’t mind, and you didn’t seem too concerned, but you tried. And they say chivalry is dead, Wednesday thought as your face became coated in the thick red liquid.

It really brought out the colour of your eyes and looked fabulous in contrast to your outfit.

“You look stunning,” Wednesday said aloud, mirroring what you had told her earlier.

You lowered your head to look at her and slowly, almost sadistically, your smile grew. The blood accentuated your smile.

Wednesday loved it.

#requests #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams

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kfaem · 23 days

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Love and Deepspace; Sleepless Nights

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

I was in the shower listening to Sleepless Nights by 9Muses and got this idea in my head. I’m starting to write this at 1am so don’t expect quality lol. Pairing: Zayne/F!Reader Genre: Angst, Hurt with Comfort CW: Written on mobile, nightmares, possible descriptions of gore, some spoilers to his myth i guess?, use of nicknames (dove, aurora) Summary: When MC has a nightmare that leaves her shaken.

She was running. Boots hitting the concrete with a solid slam as she darted through the crowd of blurry faces. She was running to a burning building.

Then she wasn’t running anymore. She was in a field of wilted jasmine flowers. The sky a toxic grey, clouds masking any hint of a blue sky from her eyes. The wilted flowers crunched under her bare feet as she walked. She didn’t know where she was headed until she saw a silhouette. “Zayne?” She called out, voice hoarse, a hollow echo flooding the nearly empty field.

But he ignored her. As she drew closer, steps growing more frantic, it felt as though he was only getting further away. “Zayne!” She called desperately, tears welling up in her eyes as an indescribable feeling of fear overcame her.

Before she could break out into a run, the ground disappeared below her. She plummeted down, landing somewhat painlessly on a hard stone floor. A chain had been secured on her wrist and a beautifully ominous frost began to creep towards her. She shivered violently, weakly pleading for Zayne to save her. She closed her eyes for a moment and found herself in front of him. He was shackled by chains the same way she had been but this time, he was gritting his teeth. “Zayne?” Her lips were stiff from the cold and a soft snowflake pattern etched itself up her body. “What…what is this? What’s happening?”

His brow furrowed and his eyes shut as an icicle plunged through his chest. “I-I don’t want to hurt you…” Zayne gasped, the icicles continuing to pierce through his skin. “This isn’t me, my dove, I-I’m so sorry.” A sob like sound fell from his lips as a horrid pain shot through her heart. Her gaze fell, it was one of his icicles.

She gasped, lungs expanding as though she was drowning. The man she loved was sitting up beside her in a heartbeat, gently running his fingers through her hair. "You're alright, I've got you." He frowned at her shaken state, the silence filling the room was deafening. "Do you need anything? Water, something to eat?" His voice was gentle, soft. The voice he only used for her.

"I-I...I saw you get hurt. You died." Zayne cupped her face in his hands, wiping the tears from her weeping eyes. "Then-then you lost control of your evol, the ice..." She raised her hand to her chest, the memory of the shard tearing through her skin felt so real. "You looked so scared, so afraid... I couldn't even say anything."

Zayne remained silent, a soft sigh falling from his mouth. "You will never have to worry about that coming true, my aurora, I will never harm you even if it kills me." He pulled her against his chest, placing one of her shaking hands on his chest. "See? We're here, you can feel my heart beating, can't you?"

Her breathing started to even out then, the aching in her chest subsiding now that she could truly feel him in front of her. "I love you, Zayne."

"I love you too, aurora."

#love and deepspace zayne #lnds zayne #zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne #zayne x reader

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solarwonux · 1 year

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Business Proposal || knj (2/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, namjoon is pretty much not the nicest dude lol (will add more as it progresses), kinda sugar daddy au but not really. It will make sense I promise.

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 9k

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

a/n: Hello, this is longer than I expected it to be, but anything to get the story moving. LMK your thoughts and if you want to be added to the tallest! Enjoy!

m.list

prev || next

“I thought you stopped smoking.”

Jungkook jumps at the sound of your voice, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. The burning cigarette in between his index and middle finger. He opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it and closes it, shaking his head. He looks out into the backyard, and takes another puff of his almost gone cigarette.

You sigh and go to stand next to him, leaning against the porch railing as you stare out into the same backyard. Silently wishing it was Spring again. Mrs. Jeon and Lia’s backyard always felt magical. Filled with flowers and greenery that always made it feel like a dream. But in the winter months it was barren and depressing. Nothing exciting grows except for the Lenten Roses in a pot next to the last porch step.

“Bad habits die hard.” He shrugs, taking another puff. “You should know.” He looks over at you, blowing out the cloud of smoke in your face.

You cough, fanning the cloud away. “You’re an ass.”

“Sometimes you ask for it.” He shrugs, throwing the white stick on the ground and squashing it with his boot. “Shouldn’t you be inside, gushing about wedding dresses and invitations with mom, while dad kisses Namjoon’s feet for once again being the perfect son.”

He stuffs his hands into the pocket of his pants. You sigh, coming to stand next to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. “Don’t be like that.” You whisper. “You’re lightyears a better person than your brother.”

His chest shakes with a humorless laugh. He has the urge to push you away but you’ve always been the only one with the ability to see through the perfectly curated images he and his brother have built over the years. “It’s always the same. I’m always the degenerate, the one who broke the rules growing up while Namjoon followed them. I’m the one who dropped out of college but he’s automatically the better son because he didn’t, and is now working on his PHD. While I work at a small flower shop, with a freelance photography job on the side. I’m the leech they can’t seem to get rid off.” He lets out a shaky sigh before pushing himself away.

“Jungkook d–”

“No, don’t say anything because you’re helping him knowing very well what he’s done to you. You’re feeding into what they want, and you can tell me it’s to benefit yourself. But how many times did I offer to help you pay out your student loans? How many times did I offer to help you find a better job? And you never took it because you wanted to do it yourself and I respected that boundary. But now that he comes back and offers you the same things with an added marriage proposal on top. You suddenly decide to take up on the offer.” He rants, running a tattooed hand through his long hair. “It fucking sucks because I know he’s going to hurt you and I don’t know if I can be there for you when he does because even if I have never had any sort of romantic feelings for you. I do love you and it hurt so much seeing you so broken and not being able to do anything about it.” He paces, invisibly mapping out the situation with his hands.

“And I can’t even fully hate him either because he is my brother and not many people understand our relationship but I know he loves me. He just has this weird ass way of showing it, and if he hurts you again, I’ll be put in the middle and I don’t want that because I can’t leave you alone and I can’t leave him alone either.” He breathes out, dropping his head feeling defeated.

It’s everything he wanted to tell you yesterday at the flower shop, but he didn’t want Yoongi to see him like this. Truthfully he wasn’t going to let you know either, but seeing the happiness on his parents' faces made him feel more bitter than usual.

You walk to stand in front of him, placing your hands on top of his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Jungkook clicks his tongue in annoyance before shaking his head in disbelief. “I know a part of you still loves him and I know that part will fall for him the second he starts acting like the old Namjoon again. I can’t stop you and I can’t stop him either.”

“You out of all people know that I’m not the same person I was then and you know why. You’re right the person that loved him is still inside here but she knows better. I won’t fall for him the way I did then and what happened that night won’t happen again.” You say, hugging him tightly again. “I appreciate you worrying about me, but I can take care of myself.” You whisper, rubbing his back lightly.

He sighs, finally hugging you back and kissing the top of your head gently. “I wish it was Jimin instead.” He adds, making you laugh a bit at the end. That was a whole new can of worms you didn’t want to get into.

At least not now at your fake fiance's parents house.

“I was scared.” He admits, burying his head into your neck. “When you called me and told me to pick you up in tears. I honestly never wanted to kill anyone more than I did that night.” He whispers. You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Jungkook’s never been honest with you about what he felt that night. You never asked because you were scared of knowing the truth. And now that he’s voiced it you can’t help but feel your heart break all over again.

“I’m sorry, I did–”

“No, don’t be sorry it’s not your fault that he–”

“Am I interrupting something?” Namjoon’s curiosity breaks the two of you apart in an instant. Quickly you wipe away the fallen tears from your cheeks. You step away further from Jungkook while he does the same, avoiding eye contact with the older man as if you’ve been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

Namjoon has always had a wild imagination, hence his profession of choice. And right now his imagination is running him up a road he knows he shouldn’t go down. He had been looking for you for at least fifteen minutes, and when he heard your voice along with Jungkook’s voice coming through the patio screen door. He couldn’t think straight, especially not after hearing his little brother be so vulnerable, but he also couldn’t help but wonder what else the two of you were talking about.

As far as he’s concerned the infamous fight between the two of you happened in your old bedroom. Your parents were out on a date and he had come over so you could look over one of his essays. He left your house in a hurry, getting on his bike and pedaling as fast as he could to get away from your house with his heart pounding against his throat.

Had you gone somewhere else after?

Now, he needed to know, only because his curiosity would not let him forget until he knew. It was one of his fatal flaws. Probably the most annoying one.

“Um, I know you came with Kook but it would be weird now if you left with him.” He too feels weird, especially because the two of you looked like you’ve just stolen three cookies out of the jar before dinner. He hates it, it only feeds the little curious demon inside of him. “I have to be somewhere at five so I came to tell you that I’ll take you home but we have to leave in like fifteen minutes to beat the traffic.” He nods, scratching the back of his neck before taking a look between the two of you, and it suddenly hits him like a truck.

Wait, were the two of you secretly seeing each other. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Wait, but what about that Jimin guy? Hold on, were you seeing the of them at the same time, hol–

“It’s fine we are done here.” Jungkook looks over at you, giving you a smile to ease your overwhelming anxiety, and walks to the entrance, patting Namjoon’s arm before heading inside.

There’s a pregnant pause between the two of you, before you decide that it’s been long enough for you to go back inside too. Before you even get the chance to move, Namjoon speaks up, burning his stare into yours.

“Are you seeing each other?” He voices out, finally giving in. He regrets it because the look on your face makes him realize that he’s said the wrong thing.

“You’ve been saying a lot of stupid shit lately.” You shake your head, taking it as your sign to leave. If you have to be in a car with him for an hour. You might as well save your energy. His genetic material is full of nonsense. “I’ll wait for you inside.” You say walking in and leaving him alone in the barren patio.

He can’t help but wonder about a lot of things. All of them start and end with you.

Namjoon is driving.

It’s a view you never thought you would ever see. Back when the two of you were friends he had very strong opinions about driving. The one time you asked after he showed up at the coffee shop drenched in rain water.

He said, “The world will be better without me on the road.” He laughed running off to ask the workers for a towel.

“What?” Namjoon says after stopping at a red light and looking over at you. One eyebrow raised.

“Nothing, it’s just strange.” You shrug. “I never thought I’d see you driving.” You point out, watching as the red light turns green. He steps on the gas, making a smooth right turn and glances over at you. A smirk painted on his features.

“I got tired of biking everywhere.” He says, leaning his right arm on the middle counsel. “This is also more convenient than asking JK to drive me everywhere when it rains or snows.”

You nod looking out the window. “What happened to priding yourself in having a small carbon footprint and world peace or whatever?”

Namjoon chuckles, shaking his head “I still bike most of the time just not to moms house or when it rains. As for the world peace thing. I don’t think being off the roads will stop wars.” He pulls the car to a stop and looks over at you again. Now that the two of you are alone he can’t help but think that maybe you did get a little prettier than what he remembers. Though you still don’t compare to all the women he’s ever dated. Most of them being nepo babies or supermodels. You’re still quite attractive, maybe in another life he wouldn’t have thought twice about sharing a life with you. But you still weren’t the woman of his dreams. Though, the more he navigates through life he’s realizing that such a person simply doesn’t exist.

If they did he wouldn’t be here in the car with you.

“Oh,” you jump up as if you just remembered something important. And before Namjoon can begin to understand what was happening the light turns green again and he’s pressing on the gas pedal. “I forgot to give this to you.” You say, holding out your hand in his view of sight with his mothers ring.

“Keep it.” He says without missing a beat. You’re shocked and you’re about to fight against him, but he beats you to it. “We’re going to be spending lots of time together. It’d be weird if you didn’t wear it when we’re together.” He reasons. It makes sense but you hated every second that passed by in which you had it on.

In a few months it wouldn’t be yours anymore. Plus it just felt wrong to be wearing it knowing it will someday go to someone else.

“You can just keep it and then when we go to places together, just give it to me.” You nudge his arm with your open hand. He glances down at it before looking out to the road.

“No need, you’ll be moving in anyway.” He nonchalantly says, shrugging his shoulders as if he didn’t drop another bomb on you.

Moving in?

This whole deal was taking turns that you didn’t expect. You knew he offered you a house in which you honestly weren’t going to take. But you didn’t think you’d be moving in with him. From what Jungkook tells you his apartment is more of a museum than a home. And you like your little apartment. It was perfect for one person, it had everything you needed and it was close to two subway stations. It was absolutely perfect and the rent wasn’t crazy expensive.

Rent.

That’s another thing to take into consideration. Would he make you pay for rent if you did by some miracle agree to moving in, because you’re more than positive you wouldn’t be able to afford it. Not now with your passable income from the flower shop. Of course, that chapter of your life will soon come to an end, but even working as a professor in your prestigious alma mater wouldn’t be enough to pay whatever crazy amount his rent is.

“Hold on, that wasn’t in our deal.” You close your hand in a fist and bring it down onto your lap turning your entire body to face him.

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “The cats out of the bag what would people think when they figure out we are engaged but not living together.” He pulls up into the parking lot of your apartment building and puts the car in park. He turns his entire body to face you, one hand gripping onto the steering wheel. “I don’t think you understand how crazy mom can be. She will be over unannounced every other day now that she knows we’re getting married. It’s best to avoid all those questions because they can get invasive.” He states, turning off the engine and opening up his door. He looks over at you. “I can’t stay long but I’ll walk you to your door.”

You were beginning to get annoyed with how nonchalant he was acting about all of this. For a person who claims this was all fake he seemed to be trying his hardest to make it seem as real as possible. You’re starting to wonder if you should set up some ground rules first before you make such a serious decision.

What if you do move in? When all this is over what will happen to you?

You have no doubt in your mind that he will kick you out the second he gets tired of this scheme. You have no doubt in your mind that he will begin to act like this never happened. It is what he does best. He crosses boundaries and when you make it known he acts like he didn’t and that you were in the wrong the entire time.

It’s what happened then, but this time it will be different. This time you’re determined to keep your guard up as high as a skyscraper. This time you won’t fall for his smile, his charm, his laugh or his heart. This time you’re going to put yourself first and to be able to do that you need to have a serious conversation. Set some ground rules before you can continue anything else.

“Namjoon, wait.” You say as he’s getting out of the car. He rounds the front and opens the passenger door for you.

“What, I need to be somewhere in fifteen minutes, let’s go.” He rushes out looking down at his Rolex then you.

You get down from his car, stepping to the side as he closes the door. “We need to talk about this.” You use your pointer finger to single the space between the two of you.

He lets out an annoyed sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “We will, but not today. We can have lunch next Wednesday after you come in for training.”

“Namjoon I just don’t think you understand. You’re making all these choices without getting my opinion first. I understand you want your parents to believe that we are actually engaged. And I understand that you have a lot left to lose. But you’re not the only one in this. I get to have say in this too and I–”

Namjoon holds his hand out to your face, blocking your words from coming out. “I get it and believe me I would love to talk about it because we have a lot of things to discuss but I really can’t today. I have a dinner meeting with a coworker and I need to pick her up in—” he looks down at his watch and up, “-in ten minutes.” He finishes and starts walking in front of you.

A dinner meeting? On a Sunday? With another woman?

You don’t want to be that person. You firmly do believe that men and women are able to be friends without anything romantic and sexual happening between them. But he’s acting a little bit suspicious and you can’t help but wonder if he’s going out on a date.

God, you’re so annoyed it’s honestly becoming very tiring. And you’ve only been fake engaged for a few hours. You can’t begin to imagine what the next months will be like or for however long he plans to keep up the scheme.

He calls out your name. He’s standing in front of your building entrance, snapping his fingers to hurry you up.

“I’m not a dog.” You roll your eyes, and push past him. You press the button to the automatic door and hold your hand out before he can take another step. “And I don’t need an escort.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“And you’re going to be late for your date.” You state stepping inside, leaving him floored with your little outburst. He wants to follow you and tell you a few choice words, but the ringing of his phone keeps him from pressing the button again.

He can talk to you another day. Right now you’re right about one thing. He is late. Even if it’s not a date like you have just assumed. He hates being late to places.

In a relationship.

The little phrase next to yours and Namjoons name has been haunting you since you got the notification last night. Least to say you had not gotten a wink of sleep. You had messaged Namjoon asking him what it was all about. The two of you had not talked since Sunday and making your fake relationship official on Facebook for friends and family to see was definitely something you didn’t see him doing.

It had caught you by surprise. What surprised you the most was the comments underneath the status, offering you kind words and congratulations. The few “it's about time,” comments had set you off. You weren’t sure if it was because you were engaged or because the two of you were engaged to each other. It had your mind racing in all sorts of directions.

Yet, what really didn’t let you sleep was Taehyung’s messages and Jimin’s cryptic “it all makes sense now,” text you had woken up too.

Your fake fiance always prided in living a life away from the drama. And while he’s having a blast living a fantasy you were on the other end receiving nasty messages from your friends and what you assumed were women he had been with once upon a time.

It was all getting too much. You were supposed to be enjoying your last shift ever at Euphoria before you ventured off into the world for bigger and better things. But here you were blocking comments and ignoring Taehyung’s angry spam and Jimini’s nasty comments, with a knot at the base of your throat.

You’ve never hated Namjoon more than you did now. Since he was ignoring you, probably annoyed with your constant pleading to delete the status. You would have to wait until you saw him again next week to scream in his face.

What didn’t help was that Jungkook had called in sick, so you were stuck with the brooding owner, sending you a glare whenever he heard you sigh.

“Okay, out with it. What has you acting like the queen has died?” He cuts a stem off a rose, before placing it in the middle of a few baby breath branches.

You put your phone down, face down hoping it would somehow keep the notifications from coming. “First the queen has died. Second, Namjoon is so fucking annoying. I…ugh.” You let out a frustrated sigh. Probably the thousandth one of the day before putting your head in your head, cradling it.

The headache that you had woken up with after three restless hours of sleep was only growing to be worse. You hear the older man laugh before patting your back awkwardly. “I think this is the part in which Jungkook would be saying I told you so, but I still fully support you getting the bag you deserve, and unfortunately whatever he did is part of the consequences you just have to face.” He states proudly before retrieving his hand and going back to the bouquet he was working on.

You raise your head, hoping your glare would bury him six feet underneath the ground. “You’re no help sometimes. I don’t know why I even ask for your advice.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue before shaking his head, “You see that’s where you’re wrong. You didn’t ask for my advice. I’m just telling you the honest truth. Now if you can’t take it then you shouldn’t have accepted the deal in the first place.” He shrugs, wiping his hands on his apron before grabbing a pair of scissors. He goes to the ribbon wall behind him, taping his chin with the tip of them in thought.

“What did he do this time anyway?” He says getting a hold of a lavender one and measuring it before cutting it off.

You lift up your phone, opening it quickly and navigating yourself through the homescreen before clicking the bright blue app. “This! He did this without letting me know.” You extend your phone showing him the status.

He leans his head forward squinting his eyes before breaking out into a smile. “Congratulations, I knew the two of you would be perfect together.” He jokes, making you groan out in annoyance. He chuckles, cutting up some flower bouquet paper. “Jokes aside, that is an asshole move, but what else would we expect from the devil himself.” He says grabbing the bouquet and placing it in the middle of the pale pink paper. “You knew what you were signing up for.”

“Ugh, I know, I know, I know. I don’t need you to remind me.” You push yourself off the counter as soon as the bell to the shop dings signaling someone has walked in. “It’s the aftermath of his actions that’s sending me up the wall. I really ha–” You turn around putting your best customer service smile only for it to fade away the minute your eyes come into contact with ones you’ve grown up with.

The warmth they once held for you is gone, now replaced with stone cold anger.

“Jimin.”

“Do you want to explain to me what’s going on?” He pushes his way past you and walks to the aisle full of supplies. “Because the last time we talked you told me you weren’t ready to be in a relationship and as much as it hurt I respected that but now you’re here engaged. And to Namjoon?” He says exasperated. You follow him, thanking god the shop was empty because this wasn’t where you wanted to have this conversation.

You knew it would eventually come and you would have no other option but to have it. Yet, lately the world has been throwing curveballs at you left and right since Namjoon came back into your life. So, what else could you expect?

Plus Jimin has never been one to keep his emotions bottled up. It’s one of things you admire most about him. When he was angry he would voice it. When he was sad he would cry freely and explain why. And when he was happy and in love he had no shame in letting the whole world know. Which is why you couldn’t continue anything with him anymore. Even if he was the one that made you feel comfortable again in your body and encouraged you to explore things with him. You didn’t feel anything towards him other than friendship. It’s not like you didn’t try. You did the moment you realized he had fallen for you months ago. It’s probably why you prolonged cutting things off with him, but you couldn’t do that to him anymore.

Not when he had verbally confessed and was giving you everything he should’ve been giving to someone who didn’t view him as more than a friend. The two of you should’ve listened to everyone who said it was a bad idea, but both of you were stubborn. That’s something you aren’t afraid to admit. Unfortunately the decision the two of you made almost a year ago was now coming back to bite the two of you in the ass. Though for some reason it felt like you were getting the shorter end of the stick with everything that had gone down in the last few days.

Maybe you were cursed?

“Min I can explain.” You whisper yell, reaching out to him. He retracts, throwing his hands up and steps away from you.

“No, I don’t need you to explain anything to me. I saw what that man did to you and you went back to him after cutting things off with me.” He spits out, venom laced in his voice as he cards a shaky hand through his already messy hair. He stops for a second biting his bottom lip and looks over at you.

“Were you seeing him while we were together? Were you with me when he couldn’t be with you? Because I can’t even begin to explain how fucked up that is. Especially for someone like you but I guess I didn’t know you as well as I thought I did.” He rants, his hands shaking as he finds somewhere to put them to hide the visible anger he is feeling inside.

“It’s not like that Min, please just let me explain.” You plead, taking cautious steps closer to him. Gripping your apron tightly to keep yourself from crying. This is why you admired your oldest friend for the longest time. He wore his heart on his sleeve whereas you couldn’t let yourself cry in fear of looking pitiful and weak.

He takes one final look at you before shaking his head. “No, I don’t want anything from you. I just want you to stay out of my life.” He says before walking past you, bumping your shoulder with his and walking out.

This is what you feared the most. Losing him. You did have the intention of telling him what was happening when the time was right. This whole situation with Namjoon wasn’t something you ever intended on keeping a secret from both him and Taehyung, but of course you could never walk at your own pace.

For as long as you can remember nobody ever let you march to the beat of your own drum. Everyone around you always forced you to act whenever it was suitable for them. And right now as much as you were at fault too, you couldn’t help but blame Namjoon and his impatience.

Every day that went by, you realize how much this was inconveniencing you rather than benefiting you like you had originally thought.

“Now, I think this is the part in which Jungkook would say I told you so.” Yoongi speaks out from behind you.

You roll your eyes, shake your head and send him a glare. In a haste you untie your apron and rip it off. “I quit.” You say walking past the counter and throwing the fabric onto it.

Yoongi shrugs, trying his best to give you a reassuring smile in which it looks like he’s in pain instead. “Impossible when you only had five more minutes left of your final shift.”

That’s the last thing you hear him say before walking into the back and finally letting your tears fall down.

You’ve had your fair share of heartbreaks in the past.

When you were five you had your first boyfriend–Paul. A blooming relationship that lasted merely three days. On the first day of school he gave you a note with a poorly drawn flower and “I love you” written in the center. In his best five year old handwriting. On the second day he kissed you in the line on the way to Spanish class–dared by his best friend–Pedro. And on the last day, he played with you on the playground but on the way back to class he was holding hands with another girl.

Your first heartbreak.

Then you embarrassingly harbored a crush on him for three years after. In fifth grade–Christian had stolen your heart as soon as you saw his crooked smile and overly slicked back hair, but of course he had picked the prettier and meaner girl in class–Yuni.

Your second heartbreak.

Though, the infatuation didn’t last long, you forgot about him as soon as you entered middle school. But you remember your heart beating out of time when you saw him at Sunday school. You were in seventh grade. Your body was changing. You felt awkward as hell listening to a sermon while fantasizing what it would be like to hold his hand.

When you were fifteen on the other hand. All hell broke loose.

You fell out of love with a lot of firsts in your life, and everything felt so black and white. Things that made you happy. That you viewed as pillars slowly started fading away. It started with ballet, then it trickled down to your studies. You didn’t feel like doing anything, your feelings were confusing and you felt angry with everything and everyone around you. To add the cherry on top your crush of possibly four years broke your heart–Jung Hoseok.

He was perfect. He was tan, tall, and handsome. He had a beautiful smile with moony eyes. He was funny and smart and loved to dance. You had met him during your first dance practice back in seventh grade. All it took was a smile, a wink and a killer freestyle for you to fall head over heels for him. He was nice, he sat with you during lunch whenever Taehyung and Jimin had a different one. He helped you out with your math homework and he even cracked jokes about your favorite boy band at the time. He would ask you about your day and make sure you didn’t skip your meals.

Jimin and Taehyung were so tired hearing you yap about him twenty four seven and so they offered to help you out. The three of you came up with a plan on how to confess to him, but all of that went down the drain one Wednesday afternoon.

The tears didn’t start falling when you saw the self proclaimed bad boy holding hands with one of the popular girls from school–Harley. They came after when you ran out of the dance studio because Of course it had to be her. God had blessed her with the perfect genes. The perfect hair, the perfect smile, the perfect body, and she was a way better dancer than you. She was beautiful and you were a colorless painting next to her that lacked detail. You had acne on your forehead, and even if you had ditched the contacts and braces a year prior. Your hair was still frizzy, and your body wasn’t desirable. Your boobs were practically non-existent, your hips were too wide and your stomach wasn’t flat

It sucked because you seriously thought he could’ve been it. He had been it for a while. You pulled back. Curating a home in a fantasy world, caging your heart in. Despite your friends being protective over you like a little sister. Their protection was nothing compared to how locked up you had your heart. That is until you met Kim Namjoon–and that also ended in a disaster. After that you didn’t give a fuck, you let men come and go. Use you for their needs until one night you awoke from your slumber. Sadly it had already been too late.

Jimin was there to repair you brick by brick. He helped you rediscover yourself in more ways than one. He helped you feel comfortable in your body. Something that was so foreign to you it took lots of trial and error. Yet, you broke him.

Despite all the heartbreak you have experienced in your life. This had to be the one that hurt the most, because you hurt him, and nothing you do will ever bring him back to you.

All because you wanted to have the upper hand.

This is why you disliked Kim Namjoon. Just like he brought you back to life he had dulled you at the same time. He made you feel special but at the same time ordinary; and because of him–though it wasn’t his entire fault you were equally to blame–you had lost one of the most important people in your life.

In honor of such event you had been avoiding the world for the entirety of three days. On the fourth day–today–you had finally forced yourself out of bed.

It was your first day of training at your new job which meant you were going to be in the same room with your nemesis AKA your fake fiance. Listening to him brag about how much better he is at everything.

Everything was a shit show.

You purposely took the longer route, hoping it would work calming you down. The Cherry Blossoms were finally blooming, signaling the end of a bitter winter and the birth of a new chapter in your life. You had hoped that Jimin and Taehyung would have been here for the ride, after you explained everything. You didn’t get the chance too and now the two of them were acting as if there wasn’t a decade of memories between the two of you.

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your hot pink slacks. You weren’t going to be teaching yet, just observing some classes and following Namjoon around while he condescendingly explained what your life would be like as a University Professor.

Are you close? - N

You rolled your eyes at the message. You had been scheduled to come in at ten-thirty. It was ten on the dot and he was already rushing you. You begin to wonder if this is what it was going to be like the entire time the two of you will be together.

Don’t forget to wear your ring, we’re going to mom’s for dinner tonight. - N

The annoyed sigh made its way out of you before you could stop it. You hope that it won’t always be like this. Him making plans for you without consulting you first. Or him outing the relationship is such an irresponsible way without letting you know. If he was going to make every single decision for you, then you will call things off. You had taken the entirety of your night writing down a list of demands in order for you to continue things.

Well it was more of a list of things that annoyed you about him. A list in which you only hoped the two of you could come to a compromise. You don’t want to change him. Mostly because he is stubborn and doesn’t see anything wrong with himself no matter how many times people close to him have mapped it out for him. He won’t turn the other way keeping his ground. All you want to do is meet in the middle for however long he wants to keep this charade up.

One of my TAs is waiting for you at the front of the building. I’m assuming you know the way. She will show you around and I will meet you for lunch. Don’t be late. - N

The third text came in making you grip your phone tightly in your hand. Even when he wasn’t around he somehow manages to make you want to scream out in anger.

I’m five minutes away.

You reply, putting your phone away and ignoring the last text he sends you. You will not let him ruin your last few minutes of freedom.

Eunseo is amazing.

She immediately greeted you in high spirits and complemented your hot pink blazer and slacks combo. And offered to carry around your bag because to her it seemed too heavy, but you refused.

Despite having attended HYBE U almost a decade ago. It hadn’t changed much. There were a few new buildings to compensate for the enrollment capacity, and a carpark where dorms used to be. But other than those slight changes nothing had changed. Even the large field in between the common hall and the dorms was still the same. The trees always bloomed beautifully in the Spring. Though you couldn’t ignore the pang you felt in your chest while walking through the field with Eunseo as she talked about her classes and how much she looked up to Mr. Kim.

This was where you found out you were in love with Namjoon all those years ago. It was Fall, the foliage was at its peak and the leaves were just starting to fall down. The two of you had decided to meet here instead of the cafe that day to enjoy the weather a little more before it turned gray. There was a particularly strong wind and the leaves came rustling down landing on the two of you making the both of you laugh. The sun was shining in the most perfect way possible, his skin glowed underneath it and something inside of you turned.

That day all you could do was think about him. You fell asleep dreaming about his smile and woke up expecting his scent to cloud over you like a blanket.

It was so beautiful yet tragic and you had never turned back since then.

That is until he turned on you.

With the way Eunseo was describing him. You could almost picture him being the same way he was when he tutored you. According to Eunseo he was funny, kind and really cared about his students. He always went out of his way to explain the material in ways his students could understand, and listened to everybody’s opinion extensively. But he also challenged them and pushed them to work harder.

He loved his job and profession more than anything in the world. It’s something you always did admire about him. Even on late nights or when the stress was too much for him to handle. He always found a way to look at it in a different light. For some time you had wished he would’ve done that with you when you confessed your feelings to him. That night he was someone you had never known. It was like something switched off inside of him and he became the heartless jackass you’ve come to know about in recent years.

“You’re very lucky. He will be such an amazing husband.” Eunseo said bringing out of your long train of thought. You stopped dead in your tracks, surprised as she giggled at your reaction.

“H-How do you know.” You clear your throat, bringing your hand up to your chest and playing with the little aquamarine pendant you never take off.

“He told me before I went down to meet with you.” She shrugs, grabbing onto the straps of her backpack. “Don’t worry he’s only told me and I don’t have many friends to tell. So your secret’s safe with me.” She winks turning around and skipping away.

You shake your head and follow her trying to keep up as best as you can. Maybe wearing heels wasn’t the brightest idea, but it was your first day on the job. You need to make a good impression on your future co-workers. In which you hadn’t met yet, but you assumed it was because Namjoon would be the one to introduce you and he was currently in a lecture.

You jump when you hear your name being called from across the field. You turn around quickly as Namjoon makes his way to you. His beige trench coat blowing in the wind. The combination of his nike’s, light blue jeans, and airy button down shirt was more casual than what you expected. Even his hair wasn’t styled. He looked stress free or a normal person.

“Mr. Kim, I have taken care of her and now I am returning her to you in one piece. Just like you instructed.” Eunseo says from beside you. You look over at her. She’s wearing such a bright smile on her face. Her proudness over such a nimble task makes you chuckle. A moment you will never forget now because it’s made you realize how much you desire to inspire someone.

The same way Namjoon has inspired her.

“Thanks Eunseo.” Namjoon replies once he gets closer, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his coat. He looks you up and down, raising his brows before turning over to his student. “This doesn’t mean you’re getting extra credit or an extension on your next paper.”

“It was worth the shot.” She smiles, sending him finger guns making him laugh. She turns to face you, “It was so nice to meet you Mrs. Kim, I’ll be sure to keep on the lookout for your class next semester.” She says giving you an enthusiastic thumbs up. “I’ll see you in class Mr. Kim.” She finishes before turning around and heading down the path leading to the library.

“She’s not going to turn in her paper on time.” Namjoon says from next to you shaking his head. “But she’s one of my best students. Somehow her papers always manage to impress me even if I threaten to take away a whole letter grade for every late paper. It somehow motivates her to do even better and I can’t.” He sighs and looks over at you. “Did you find everything okay, I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you. I told the office to schedule you after my classes today but they refused. Even being head of a department has very little perks.”

You look around quickly to see if anybody was around. There were a few students making their way to classes but each of them were engrossed with their phones or notes or conversations amongst themselves. They weren’t paying any attention to the two of you. So, he didn’t have to act so nice. “You’re so strange.” You comment, widening your eyes and covering your mouth as quickly as possible.

Namjoon rolls his eyes before sticking his hand out for you to take. “And you’re so nice.” He retaliates. The slight pang of bitterness slicing through his words. You almost feel relieved that he was still in there somewhere.

“Thanks, you bring out the best in me.” You take his hand, watching as he interlaced your fingers with his, forcefully pulling you to walk.

“Whatever, let’s just go to lunch. I’m starving. We can talk about things then.”

Okay you take it back. HYBE U was definitely still not the same.

There was a whole dining hall with the bougiest restaurants that you one hundred percent would not have been able to afford when you were a student here. You assume that’s why it’s pretty empty, except for a few faculty.

Namjoon and you had been sitting in silence since the two of you sat down after ordering. Your mouth almost fell open when you saw an avocado toast for almost twenty dollars. Thankfully Namjoon had offered to pay. Now the two of you were waiting for your overpriced food in complete silence. You weren’t sure what to say if you were honest.

Hey thanks for the job, you're still an asshole though.

My best friends hate me because you ruined my life and now they think that what we have is real because you decided to make it official on Facebook. And like who uses Facebook anyway you old man.

In the end you settle for the nice quiet, listening to the ambience around you until your food arrives. The waiter carefully places your plates in the middle of the table and the two of you quietly thank him. Then Namjoon clears his throat, grabbing your attention.

“I usually bring my own lunch but I like this place whenever I forget to cook.” He cuts the toast in half and puts one of them on your plate, and makes sure you get a piece of avocado too.

“You cook?” You tilt your head to the side, picking up your utensils and poking the soft egg in the middle, letting the yolk run.

Namjoon nods, placing some pasta on your plate. “Jin taught me a couple years ago.” He hands you a napkin and starts filling up his plate. You have no idea who this Jin guy is. Namjoon says his name as if you’re supposed to know already, but you’re curious. Namjoon was a genius but he was a complete incompetent buffoon in the kitchen. You can’t explain how many times you witnessed him and Jungkook fighting in front of you whenever you were over their house because he always burned the simplest things. It would stink up the kitchen and Jungkook would lose it because he always lost at rock paper scissors and ended up being the one to clean the kitchen.

“Who’s Jin?” You wipe your mouth, and take a bite of the pasta humming in delight. Maybe the price of the food was worth it.

“He owns the gym Kook and I go too. He sometimes comes over, you’ll meet him soon.” He clarifies.

You nod, letting the silence consume the two of you once again because what else are you supposed to say. Instead you just take another bite of your food.

Maybe if you prayed hard enough, Jungkook would waltz in and break the awkward air looming between the two of you. Of course you had things to say to him, but how were you supposed to bring it up if the conversation wasn’t going down the route.

“Kook’s mad isn’t he?” Namjoon puts down his fork and takes a sip of his water. “I saw him at the gym last night and he almost beat the shit out of me.” He chuckles like it’s no big deal.

“He’s not the only one.” You retort, reaching into your bag and taking out a sheet of notebook paper in a plastic sleeve and place it on the table. Not the most professional looking thing but you were short on time.

“Lo–” Namjoon starts, you assume he’s going to defend himself and his actions. But he doesn’t get very far because you immediately cut him off.

“No, I understand you want everybody to believe whatever this is.” You say pointing between the two of you. “But there’s not just one person in this act. You can’t keep making choices without consulting me first. The brunch was fine. I was able to come up with something on the spot. But the moving in is not, nor is the fucking Facebook status or telling your student or the dinner we have with your mom tonight.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, “It’s a stupid status is not a big deal.” He takes a bite of pasta. The nonchalance in his demeanor causes the anger you had somehow managed to push away resurface once again.

“It is a big deal Namjoon. Because of that stupid status, neither Jimin or Taehyung are talking to me. You didn’t give me the chance to tell them and finding out through the internet is a pretty shitty thing.” You try to reason. He pokes his cheek with his tongue and crosses his arms.

“Isn’t Jimin the guy you were with at the party? You two were pretty close.”

“He was my best friend. But because of your actions he’s cut off all communication with me.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing the two of you aren’t friends anymore. He looked pretty comfortable touching you at Taehyung’s place.” He says looking around then you. Yeah, you’re adding this to the list of dumbshit he says. Hopefully by the end of this you’ll be able to publish a whole book.

“Are you listening to yourself?” You say tapping your ears. “You sound so dumb right now.” You shake your head, suddenly losing your appetite. He does bring out the worst in you, and you’re beginning to regret ever saying yes in the first place. “Jimin and I used to fuck and sure things were a little rocky between us since the night of the party. But I still care for him. He's still someone important to me and you’re not respecting that. You outed our relationship to the whole world without consulting me first and you keep doing shit without asking if I am okay with it.”

“It sounds like you’re just looking for someone to blame instead of owning up to whatever you did to your precious Jimin.” He shrugs, digging into his avocado toast. You truly want to dump his iced americano all over his head, but your hushed voices are getting a bit louder and people are starting to take notice.

“You’re completely missing the point. This isn’t about me or Jimin’s relationship. This is about you not willing to see that in order for this to continue you need to include me in big decisions like that. I am my own person Namjoon. I have a life outside of this, and you can’t just expect me to stop it and be at your mercy whenever you need me. What if I had plans tonight?”

“Then you cancel them. This is important.”

“Fucking hell, are you not listening to me. I honestly have no idea how to explain this to you in an easier way or without sounding like a broken record. I’m not a doll Namjoon, you can’t wind me up when you need me. I am a fucking human being and you’re not treating me like one. If this continues I will literally call this whole shit off.” You pick up your fork and forcefully shove some pasta in your mouth.

“You can’t do that. You promised.” He accuses with his finger, furrowing his brows in anger.

You roll your eyes and swallow. “Just like you, I can also break promises.” You shrug before sliding your forgotten list towards him. “These are my rules, if you can’t follow them then I swear Namjoon I’ll call your mom and tell her everything, and it would totally suck I mean this job seems to be amazing.” You threaten crossing your arms in front of you.

He huffs, snatching the list from the table and reading them. This time you welcome the silence as you wait for him to finish. After what seems like his third run through he puts the list down again, your bubbly handwriting makes his head hurt a little. He could never understand why you always wrote in colorful pens and marked your i’s with hearts.

In his opinion it was overrated and you were a full grown adult, not a toddler.

“You can’t expect to change me. This isn’t forever.” He says like he’s reminding you. Despite you being his fake fiance he never really assumed you would expect him to remain monogamous. He was still a man with needs and he refused to touch you in that way.

“I’m not asking you too. I’m asking you to meet me in the middle and respect me a little more. I know you hate me but I’m not your biggest fan either. Yet, I agreed to this and I am here.”

He tugs his bottom lip in between his teeth in thought. He stares into his plate of food for what seems like hours. He could do that. Maybe things won’t be so unbearable if the two of you were just walking side by side rather than on opposite ends. He also can’t deny that you’re a little right, this was harder than he assumed. You are definitely not the pliant girl he knew once. Maybe this version of you excites him a little, but of course he won’t ever admit that to anyone. He’s already having a hard time admitting it to himself. If you’re going to ask him to meet you in the middle with your annoying list of demands then he’s going to ask the same of you.

Eye for an eye.

“Fine, but only if you agree to move in with me.”

“That’s ridiculous. I don't understand why I can’t just be at my place. I mean you just said this wasn’t forever.” You mumble.

“Ahh then I guess I’ll just rip this up.” He says taking out your sheet of paper and holding it out in front of him ready to shred it.

You panic and hold your hand out to stop him. “Fuck fine, I’ll move in with you.”

“Perfect, I’ll clear out the guest bedroom this week and you can move in on Saturday.” He smirks, and resumes to his meal.

Once again he’s won, but you will find a way to have the upper hand one of these days. “This is so dumb I still don’t understand your reasoning.”

There’s a part of Namjoon that also doesn’t understand it. That part of him he’s pushed away for years. It’s the part of him that wants you there with him. It’s incredibly selfish. He’s aware he’s asking too much of you already, but he hopes having you in his home will give him an excuse to come home. Lately, he’s been tired of just his plants and artwork receiving him when he gets home.

Yet, that’s something he won’t ever admit out loud either.

“It just makes things easier.” He shrugs, shutting down the conversation. Leaving you to wonder if his actions have more meaning to them than his words.

#kdiarynet #btshoneyhive #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts angst #bts namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon imagines #namjoon fic #namjoon fanfic #bts x reader #namjoon x reader

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wildbluesorbit · 3 months

Text

Wounded II || JTK

…A Continuation of London

18+MDNI

Paring: Jakexreader(f)

LONDON SERIES MATERPOST

A/N: It’s arrival is finally upon us… so sorry it only took three weeks:( I promise the wait was worth though; out of the whole series, this installment was my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE to create !! Shoutout to @tommie-gvf for editing:) I am beyond excited to hear what y'all think!

i didn't notice the last 2k words cut off (x)

Summary || Navigating through the aftermath of your argument, you can’t bring yourself to face Jake.

Content Warnings || toxic relationship, agoraphobia, haphephobia, explicit depictions of night terrors/panic attack, brief mentions of anger and physical aggression and bodily harm and murder/death and sexual assault, verbal aggression, reckless/distracted driving, brief mention of drug use, unsolicited touched, allusions to depressive and isolative episodes, [non-aggressive] unannounced entry into readers bedroom, a very brief boner lol

Word Count || 7.2k

— JAKE —

You wince at the strain of your stiff muscles propped against her bedroom door, eyes accosted by the morning light. The sequence of how the cold hard floor became your bed for the night is less than clear. Your only clues, the taste of liquor and guilt still bitter on your dry tongue, you are most likely the asshole.

You will your aching body upwards, the pounding in your head follows your first step. You accomplish the odyssey that is the hallway to your bedroom and start on your appearance for the studio; the account of the night before depositing itself moment by moment as you ooze about your room.

Still couldn’t get your puppy out of her little cage?

You cringe as you brush your teeth and fight your tangled tresses to loop into a low bun, a tangible distraction to repress the clawing conviction.

I heard she won’t even let you pet her.

A huff escapes you as you slip on your socks and step into your boots. You grab your coat, intent on heading downstairs, but you instead find yourself not strong enough to withstand the gravity and accomplish your trek to the stairs; slave to the magnetic field of her bedroom door. You try to sketch out some impression of last night’s details, but clarity refuses to reveal itself to you. You study the ridges of the wooden frame and grumble to the clueless girl you pray is comatose on the other side.

The sound of your older brother calling you from downstairs breaks your spell as you shuffle towards the source.

The guy who put his hands on you has got nothing to do with me.

Don’t you think you’ve carried this weight way too far?

Thick eyebrows furrow in your direction as a baffled Josh canvasses your face for any indication as to why you struggle to recite a simple breakfast order; your disconcerting recollections jerking you by the reins in and out of disassociation. You almost wish you could remain inviolable in your amnesic ignorance.

When are you going to stop being so apathetic towards this?!

You shake off your shame as you put aside the freshly delivered food on the kitchen counter for her to find after she wakes up. You lock the front door after Josh walks through and take a deep cleansing breath before you step into your car, knowing you can’t take this baggage to the studio with you.

You don’t get to speak to me this way.

I’ll be out the door.

Your twin yells over the roar of the rumble strips from the passenger seat as you stray into the shoulder, “Jake?! The road!”

Fuck you, Jacob.

Just another thing you have yet to do.

You plug in at the studio, butchering and tripping over riffs of your own design.

The completely broken and mortified look you painted on her face.

The vision curses you blunderingly dumbfounded.

“Okay, let’s take a quick five,” Josh says over his brother’s instruments while silently interrogating you from across the booth.

You mentally rewind to realize you had completely missed your entrance.

An aggravatingly tone-deaf Sam challenges the sudden hiatus, “But we just started?”

Josh blusters his youngest brother a look that threatens unbridled rage.

A sympathetic Danny steps in to rescue a clueless Sam from Josh’s wrath, “Sam, want to go get high?”

Like dangling shiny keys in front of a toddler, Sam’s attention is now fixated on Danny’s proposal. The two giggling men giddily scurry out of the booth up to no good. As soon as the exit door swings shut Josh stomps over to you, rolling his eyes.

He unpacks his authoritative older sibling's tone as his hands wildly comb through the air for your confession, “Okay, enough moping, out with it.”

You don’t even bother armoring a defense. You know very well you would end up confiding in Josh sooner or later. You ineptly unload every detail you can extract from memory in an iniquitous admission to your twin.

You haven’t even finished speaking your closing statement when a pinching sting burrows against your skin as a result of Josh’s backhand assailing your bicep. You hiss through pressed lips and rub over the infliction with your opposite hand, yet you don’t dare challenge the considerably clement treatment.

“You are such a prick sometimes, I swear,” Josh professes through gritted teeth.

You’re so consumed by your guilt you can’t even concoct an offense.

“Do you think she's going to leave- Fuck, I would never speak to me again,” you answer your own question.

Your pleading eyes frisk over Josh’s identical features, hungry for some kind of reprieving answer. Yet his same honest spirit that knots and kneads your stomach is the same one that always gravitates you towards Josh for counsel in the first place.

“I can’t answer that for you, but I think it's important you at least give her enough distance to think clearly,” Josh dismally warns.

Your thumb and middle finger start at the crease of your eyebrow and rub outwards to your temples, tugging at your skin till your fingertips reach your hairline and fall through your tied-back strands, “Did I fuck this up, Josh?”

You almost wish you couldn’t read his expression of pessimism as Sam and Danny reenter the studio, bursting at the seams with a laughter that you can’t even fathom in this moment. Their giggles cut right through your exchange with your twin. Josh squeezes your shoulder and gives you a smirk of consolation before resettling himself in his designated portion of the booth. His way of wordlessly telling you to keep your chin up and you’d discuss it later.

You try your best to adjourn your sins for now as you know it is time for studio work and studio work only, yet still stumble and topple through every note without a hint of grace until the very last beat of the session.

—YOU —

”Went to the studio, will be back late. Enjoy your day -J “

Jake’s handwriting on the cardboard coffee cup sleeve informs you of his whereabouts. You inhale deeply, allowing the sweet soothing aroma of your favorite roast to sweep you to a better day. You are also embraced with an alluring savory scent. You restively snatch the small paper bag on the kitchen island that rests against your drink to discover an entirely different note.

“p.s. Jake bought you a muffin too but I got hungry :) - the other J”

You smile to yourself and unfold the crinkled brown bag to discover the comfort of your favorite grilled chicken caprese sandwich. You giddily scurry back to your room to start your day.

You’ve found that making lists and organizing your time usually helps your mind from wandering where it shouldn't. So, you do just that. You make your lists. You order things low in stock around the house. You check your emails.

You know you should close your laptop once you finish your clients’ work. Yet you find your mouse hovering over a new search bar. Foolishly, the hunt for apartments has begun with only a few clicks; knowing damn well you threatened your leaving in anger and don’t plan on going anywhere.

But as you scroll through listing after listing you begin to feel like maybe it could be time to leave and move on. Maybe you are suffocating everyone, but they can’t bring themselves to tread through your undoubtedly trauma-infested waters, hoping sooner or later you’ll fall off like a rotting limb. Or maybe the problem isn’t you but your lack of a clean slate. Maybe Jake ties you to the root of the tragedy just as much as he shelters you and grounds you in its aftermath.

Instinctively, your monitor is slammed shut as your breath begins to flee from you. Even if this is true you can't make a decision based on some childish blurt. This would take genuine rumination. Which you are incapable of, considering you aren’t a hundred percent sure this isn’t some impulsive ammunition aimed at Jake.

You sweep your consciousness clean and distract yourself with other productivity. You journal and read and wander around till you’d find a guitar. You do whatever you can to keep yourself busy.

Before you know it, the day turns into a week. You had been going to bed early before the boys got home so you really hadn’t spoken to anyone. You hadn’t even been purposely avoiding Jake, but space is what you keep telling yourself is best for the both of you since the other night.

It is only five in the afternoon when you hear car doors slam in the driveway from where you have been stuck in the same book for hours in the library. You instinctively shut the hardback with a smack and fly upstairs.

Even though it has been over a week, you aren’t yet ready to talk to Jake. You have certainly forgiven his assailment but you hadn’t yet figured out how to face him or his words. So you tuck yourself away in your room, never to be seen.

That is until you hear a light knocking at your door a few hours later.

You freeze, careful to not make a sound. You hope that silence will discourage whatever suitor is on the other side, enough to leave you alone.

“It’s just me,” you hear Josh’s voice travel through your room.

Still cautious, you impugn before moving a muscle, “Yes?”

“It's okay, Jake’s not here,” he says flatly.

You exhale in relief but still inch the door open slowly. You guardedly investigate to discover it is, in fact, Josh and only Josh. You still greet him with narrowed eyes.

“You can relax, sunshine, the man is on a liquor run,” Josh reassures you.

You are accosted by his bugging eyes till he gestures to the slight gap in the doorway, “Can I come in or-?”

You ostensibly inspect him, “All right but I’m going to have to pat you for any wires.”

Josh throws his head back in a quick sharp laugh as he welcomes himself into your room, “Ha! Don’t threaten me with a good time, sunshine. But I would not spy for Jake. I’m strictly here on third-party business.”

He makes himself comfortable on your bed and sits resting against your headboard; something you’ve always admired about Josh is his ability to make home anywhere and draw close to anyone.

Once he settles, he sets your pillows against the wall next to him and smacks his hand against your comforter a few times, ushering you to join him on your own bed. You roll your eyes with a smile and jump onto your designated spot next to him.

You force a cheeky smile, “So to what do I owe this displeasure?”

He places his hands over his chest and feigns an offended gasp, “Well, I was just coming to check on you.”

You remind yourself that you are safe with Josh and it's only his way of showing he genuinely cares when he places his hand over yours. It's like running against the wind, but it's all you can do to not shudder and immediately pull away.

His speech carries concern as he lightly squeezes your hand, “I haven’t seen you in a few days. Is that on purpose?”

You tense a bit at the directness of his question, “Not really. You have just been going into the studio early and staying out late recently.”

“Well, just remember isolation isn’t good for anyone and-”

“Josh-,” you start but he sings over you to finish his sentence.

“...and we miss you,” he lovingly interjects.

Your words come out sharper than you intend, “We? Who’s we?”

“Yes, we.” he mimics your satire, “Me, Danny, Sam, and especially Jake.”

“Well, obviously not too much if it's you here and not him,” your tongue instinctually retorts.

“He doesn’t want to suffocate you is all, believe me, he certainly misses you,” Josh rolls his eyes, making you curious about Jake’s behavior after your argument.

“Sunshine,” Josh cuts directly to his inquiry tired of tip-toeing, “What happened the other night?”

“Please,” you almost snort, “I’m convinced you and Jake secretly compare bowel movements. Don’t act like he didn’t already tell you every detail.”

“I mean he did,” Josh confesses, “I just want to hear what you have to say and see how you’re feeling. It might help you to talk about it.”

“Also, you’re gross,” he blurts and narrows his eyes.

“As much as I totally want to relive your brother’s cruel words, Josh, I trust Jake told you everything like it happened but-,” you hesitate, the realization you might not like the answer just now seeping heavy into your bones, “what happened at the bar? Between Danny’s call and Jake's temper, I can tell something wasn’t right.”

Josh’s features drop with his shoulders and an exhale, “He didn’t tell you?”

You see an indiscernible visage dart across his features after you shake your head no. You recognize it as condolence as he carefully recounts that night in every stomach-knotting detail; depicting a very doleful Jake, a “bitch-for-brains loudmouth” as Josh put it and her insolent tears at Jake, followed by his solemn exit and dodged phone calls.

Your heart writhes from its relocation in the pit of your stomach, almost sick at the thought. Your inability to leave the house is now bleeding into all aspects of his life and polluting his liveliness you loved so; a light that has seen you through the ugliest dark.

Josh frees you from the quicksand of your spiraling thoughts with a fragmented one of his own, “He waits for you, you know?”

He must read the confusion on your face as he rephrases, coloring in the empty lines with a bit more context, “Every night- Jake- He’ll always have this stupid giddy look on his face when he tells us the good news that you should be joining that evening. And I know my brother, he genuinely believes it. I can tell he’s not being optimistic or even humoring himself, or you. Then when he shows alone, he’s never angry or upset. He’ll just tell us you were too tired or weren’t feeling up for the outing. But I swear to you- his eyes never leave the door. Even if distracted, his body is always facing the entrance. He’ll never admit it- I’m not even sure if it's a conscious habit, but he always holds out hope that you’ll show up. We all do- just can’t hold a flame up to him. I have yet to hear him speak a bad word of you or complain of your absence. He has such faith in you, more than I think you realize, and I have yet to see it dim. I’ve never seen Jake so far gone in love with someone and he only wants to see you grow.”

Your mouth opens to speak but all words seem 10,000 miles from your horizon. Your eyes begin to pool as you try to grab at any response, his last words poisoning any other ideations. Neither Jake nor you had spoken a word of “I love you” to each other since that harrowing night, much less did he mention being in love.

You want to ask Josh a thousand questions of what he meant by that. What has Jake said? What has Jake done? How does he know for certain? You have to leave now, right? Wouldn’t that be the selfless thing to do? Yet, you can’t vocalize one.

The debut of your salty streaming eyes ushers Josh to reel in his sermon, “Look- you don’t have to say anything- unless you want to. I definitely want to hear but I don’t want to pry. And I don’t tell you this to make you feel bad, I’m just trying to give him some credit and it's something I thought you should take into consideration. Just in case you felt as if that might be impeding you. So when you do return, that's one less thing off your plate. I promise no one will look at you differently. We're all just so eager and ready to have you back by our side again.”

His immediate addition is an exact echo of his brother, “No rush though. You do what feels right, sunshine.”

You swipe at your glossy cheeks and only nod in understanding, still unable to grasp a word.

“Alright, I also just wanted to let you know we have a flight in the morning and we’re out of town for the next few days,” he steers the conversation in a less hazardous direction.

“So you’ll have the house to yourself,” he playfully wags his finger in your face, “and no ragers, young lady. I mean it!”

“No promises, but I’ll see you when you get back,” you pucker your lips, caperingly blowing him a kiss.

“Unless you want to be a stowaway? No one would stop you,” his eyes grow wide along with his smile; the same one that always grants you such safety when it appears on his twin.

You lark, “But then when would I have my party?!”

“Ah, clever girl,” he accepts his defeat.

Josh takes liberty and scoots down to lay cozy in your bed, indicating he is going to regale you with his illustriously dazzling conversation. And he does. You catch up with each other on your weeks and he tells you what they plan to do on their trip. You ask him how Sam and Danny are doing, and then Jake.

Just as he's illustrating an anecdote of some embarrassing and eccentric stunt Sam pulled to infuriate Jake today, you hear the heavy steps of tired boots coming up the stairs.

Josh’s story is totally derailed by his twin, “He sure is heavy-footed for someone so small.”

“You know you’re just as-” you start.

“For my whole life, unfortunately,” he shakes his head in a faux grief.

“Well, we have an early start and I was told I can’t be late this time,” he rolls his eyes, “I better head to bed.”

Josh exuberantly springs from the mattress to his feet and theatrically bows in a goodbye, knowing better than to attempt any sort of embrace.

He pulls away to make eye contact, “Be right back, call if you need anything.”

“Will do,” you throw him one last jest, “Have a safe flight and don’t forget Sam’s leash!”

“Please, he’s Danny’s pet, not mine,” he scoffs and saunters towards the door, “goodnight, sunshine, love you.”

You tell Josh goodnight and return his love before he winks you goodbye and gently shuts your door, disappearing behind it.

You giggle as the sounds of him dramatically stomping down the stairs in a motion to Jake’s prior thuds through your room.

That night, sleep hides itself away from you. Josh’s words chase each other, crashing and rattling around your head like a pack of rabid wolves. With each passing second you can’t help but think of the warm-bodied man down the hall from you.

Is he fast asleep, unbothered by you? Is he awake? Is he thinking of you too? Does your presence burden him? Is he fighting the urge to come see you? Is your name on his lips?

Your racing thoughts are broken by the trudging of a sleepy, no doubt grumpy, Jake.

The footsteps travel from his room and seem to concentrate as they get closer to your door, until directly in front. You hold your breath as you hear Jake mutter something and hiss in frustration. You’re only able to make out his last words as they barrel from his throat.

“Please, just- be here when I get back,” he implores the silence of an empty hallway.

Your chest pounds erratically, your heart threatening to escape its cage. It’d only been a week but you don’t realize how much you ached for him until your bones entered a state of conniption at the sound of his slumber-rasped voice.

You know he assumes you’re asleep and these words aren't yours to hear. You can’t help but wonder if this is the first night he’s addressed your inanimate door. Your malaised heart sings a mourning song to the resentful tune of Jake’s boots dragging him towards the stairs and away from you.

A decent night’s sleep still refuses to slip into your covers with you, so it's the sun that puts you to bed. The next few nights prove the same. You try your best to fix your sleep pattern, performing laborious tasks during the day to tire yourself out but it renders useless.

You refuse to take any kind of relaxant, as the haze always takes you back to a sensation you never want to return to. You aren’t sure if it's Josh’s words or another bad storm on your horizon, but you have become an insomniac.

It has only been 4 days, but each one is a bit more challenging than the previous; today rains over you like a hailstorm.

You don't want to get out of bed. You don’t want to get up to use the bathroom. You don’t want to shower or get dressed. You don’t even want to eat.

You have no wants, only musts.

You must get up, must relieve yourself, must shower, must dress, and you must eat. Or you will not survive. You will die here, swallowed whole by nothingness. No one is here to tell you what to do. No one is coming to your rescue.

Something different. Routine is a consistent companion until it is your cage.

A break. You convince yourself you need an unfamiliar happening to overwhelm your senses. An affair to shock you back to your feeble bubble of fleeting stability. A change in scenery.

You find yourself in a hysteric pace around that front door. There is nothing to lose at this point. No one here to witness if you fail. Everyone’s words run through you.

There is no rush.

But there is. You are already behind. This house is running out of oxygen. You are already rotting here. This habit will soon blur into home.

You take a deep breath and turn the knob. Not daring to chart with eyesight first, you fling yourself through that open door as if at any moment you might be sucked back inside.

The air enwraps you, brisk and cool. The undeniable fragrance of a distinct autumn breeze interrupts its commute, reminding you of how miserable you’ve been without it. Your sight is allured by your new porcelain shade in the sun; you have prodigiously neglected your melanin to a pallid skin tone you’ve never worn before.

You propel forward, telling yourself to just keep moving. You secure your place at the end of the extensive driveway and unwisely decide you can make it down the sidewalk.

You should know better than to think you could outsmart panic without strategy. You feel storm clouds roll in thick all around you; and wherever there’s rain, thunder is sure to follow.

Suddenly the boundless reaches of the stratosphere isn’t enough to save you from the suffocation of the world crumbling fast around you. You pivot until you’re barreling back down the path you came. You almost lunge through the door and lock yourself back inside.

You gait about the living room performing your breathing and self-soothing exercises. All children’s play in the wake of your hijacking terror. You eventually catch your breath but the tremors bond with you.

Whatever was eating at you earlier was only amplified by your brief spontaneous journey outside of the house. But you had foolishly led the demon inside with you, it is now clawing at the walls and howling throughout the halls.

You search for sleeping pills having no hope to rest organically tonight, accepting their necessity to your survival. You only look at your bed before deciding it's not even worth the noble fit of tossing and turning. You make sure you are ready for bed before scurrying into Jake’s room and crawling under his sheets. Yet you still can’t shake the feeling of a lurking apparition.

However, the ingested medication now emanating throughout your bloodstream is impervious to your stalking condemnation. You anchor your antidote to the soothing aroma of Jake present in his bedsheets as you are shoved into void.

You recognize the alley as soon as you are there. Beads of frigid rain pelt against your pink achy skin. The crying sky creates a misty halo against neon lights and coats everything it dances upon with a bleary gloss.

You are pinned against the wall in an instant by that vicious and nauseating smile. You try to fight but all at once you are being poked and prodded and beaten into an involuntary submission. Until your rescuer arrives.

Too enervated to attempt escape as your oppressor is distracted, Jake lunges forward. Yet he never makes contact before he falls to the ground, a dark red dye seeping from his center into his clothes. You somehow escape your attacker to see him wielding a blade.

You run to where Jake is withering away on the glittering asphalt. You attempt to cradle him, but he hisses at your touch.

Despite his wounds, he is the one to console you, telling you you’re perfect like he always does. Your only power remains in a helpless squeeze of his hand as he pours out onto the slick black top and you see his light flicker out.

– JAKE –

The headlights of the car illuminate your home sweet home as the chauffeur pulls up the driveway. The incline of the path almost causes light to leak into her bedroom window, where you hope she is fast asleep, deep enough that she won’t be bothered by the slight brightness.

You got home two days earlier than expected and you plan on surprising her in the morning.

God, how you have ached for her, lit yourself on fire for her; all to let it sift through your grasp over some drunken slurs. You wanted her to have space, but hope tomorrow will hold mercy for you as you can’t restrain yourself any longer.

The driver reaches the house and Josh and you exhaustedly crawl out of the vehicle. You retrieve your luggage before sluggishly dragging it and yourselves to the front door. You swear you grow weary with each second of jangling keys as Josh absentmindedly sifts through each metal shard; standing helpless till he feels the right shape in his hand. The click of the lock barely registers as you are greeted by the cool A/C of the foyer and the smell of home.

All vitality spent on your journey, neither of you has spoken a word since you landed. As you start to head your separate ways, you bid each other goodnight through a silent nod.

Only for it to be ambushed by her petrifying heart-grating scream, “JAKE?! JAKE?!”

One might only assume you’re prey to predators the way you instinctively soar to the stairs, up to your level, and towards her room. Without a word, you hear Josh’s footsteps apace behind you.

You almost slam into her door moving so fast. You swing it wide open, mouth agape as she is nowhere in sight. Your heart pounds in your temples as panic now starts to clamp tight around your chest. The only other time you recall this measure of a corrosive dread being the night you couldn’t find her anywhere at that party.

“JAKE?!”

Another scream immediately reveals her location to you. You dart out of her room, down the hall, and into yours.

There she is. Under the warm glow of your salt lamp-lit room, wrapped in your covers, leaking eyes scrunched shut, a lump of muffled indiscernible murmurs and whimpers, and visibly shaking.

“I think she is just having a nightmare,” you authoritatively order Josh out of the room, “I’m going to wake her, but you should go, I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

You pad towards the bed and caress whatever limb you contact first, buried underneath your blankets. Gently, you begin to coo her to consciousness.

She springs to life, petrified by your unrecognizable silhouette under the poor lighting and only just emerged from her dream state. Clumsily, she slips off the bed and tumbles to the floor, disoriented and gasping for air.

The thud from her spilled limbs on the hardwood floor nearly syncs with yours, as your knees plunge to the cold surface the moment you register her fall.

You place your palms visibly out to her, indicating her safety, “Hey- It’s me. It's Jake. I’m home.”

“No- Jake- you- he- he’s gone,” she bewilderedly sobs out almost in a question.

You aren’t sure if she is referring to your trip or something she saw in her dream and is convinced is reality.

You keep trying to rip her from whatever hallucination has its jaws around her, “No, baby, you're safe. You’re home with me, in Nashville. I got in early.”

She finally seems to digest your words, her glassy eyes [partially] pacified by your newly registered presence before whispering your identification, “Jake?”

When it comes to her, your first instinct is always a consoling touch, but you have learned an unsolicited embrace only runs her further from your protection. However, you have to try.

“Yes, babygirl,” you reassure before you approach, not wanting to spook her, “can I come near you?”

You’re astounded when she only responds by leaping into your lap and wrapping herself around your torso.

Within an instant, your arms have gratefully found their seal around her waist. Your calloused fingertips ever so slightly sink into her buzzing flesh, wrestling with every muscle, willing yourself not to tear her apart. How have you starved for the shape of her, the weight of her, the warmth of her very skin. Fuck- to finally hold her again feels so fucking good.

“Jake- this time- and- he got you- then you-,” she fights through stuttering breaths.

“Hey, no more of that,” you gently assert to sedate whatever terroristic figments are plaguing her in your arms, “I’m here now. I've got you.”

Still trembling, she nuzzles her face into your neck and hysterically rasps out, “Jake, please don’t leave me. I can’t- Jacob, I love you. I can’t lose you. I can’t take it!”

You have no idea as to what she saw in her nightmare, only that you have never seen one leave her this rattled. You can feel her at war with her own breath as her panic continues to steal it from her.

A trick from the therapist resurfaces and you take the dips of her waist within your firm grasp to briefly withdraw her from your embrace, “Hey, I’ve got you, but I need you to listen to the sound of my voice. Focus on what I’m saying, okay?”

You don’t wait for her to respond before taking her hand and running it across the material of your blue corduroy jacket, “You feel that? It's your favorite jacket of mine, the one you always steal when we go for a drive.”

You ever so slightly draw yourself back in closer to her, “I need you to take a deep breath. Smell that? It’s the cologne you bought me for my birthday?”

She concentrates on her inhalation, occupied with taking an exaggerated breath. She slowly begins to nod.

You can see the sensory stimulation starting to ground her so you attempt to redirect her focus, “And what did I promise? I need to hear you say it.”

She takes a long shaky breath, “You- You said no more leaving. You promised.”

You place her jaw safely within the shelter of your palm and press your forehead to hers; without warning, you’re captivated by a time of exigency to live off the same breath as her.

“That’s right, and I’m here now and I’m not leaving you again,” you vow.

You scoop her back into your arms and off the floor. She clings to you as you turn off the lamp and cradle her back into the fortress of your bed, curling up around her for safekeeping.

You caress and console and coo until finally, her quaking stops and breathing evens out as she is welcomed back to slumber. The rhythmic rising and falling of her rib cage underneath your touch lulls you into your own dormancy.