#Turn Back Hoax

[kabartangsel]

Bharada E Dibebaskan, Langsung Diangkat Jadi Pangkat Jenderal? Cek Faktanya!

Hasil periksa fakta Siti Lailatul Fitriyah Unggahan video dengan klaim bahwa Bharada E gantikan posisi Sambo jadi jenderal setelah dibebaskan adalah konten yang tidak benar. Faktanya hingga saat ini diketahui Bharada E masih mendekam di penjara dan tidak ada bukti valid mengenai pelantikan dirinya sebagai jenderal. ==== [KATEGORI]: Konten Yang…

[intrigd-voyagr]

whenever I describe my ideal romantic relationship to people I'm always told "that's not dating that's just being friends!" and it's like!! Well yeah!! But actually no! Like. I still want the loyalty and emotion of a romantic relationship, I just don't want The Nasty™. And even with my watered down definition I still don't feel ready for it especially since I have 0 experience,,

I guess I'm just plain scared of intimacy but since it's all anyone wants in a relationship I'm just better off alone so I don't disappoint or annoy people

[apricusapollo]

I decided to make my life harder and split final chapter of hoax in two parts

[nonsensical-shitposting]

Reblog and put in the tags (or just reply if you don’t want to reblog) what accents, if any, you imagined Bug Fables characters as having the first time you played through the game. I’m curious to see what people’s first impressions there were.

[aealzx]

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Phantom Rogues (Prequel)

Next

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“Would yOU PEOPLE JUST LISTEN!”

Danny’s exasperated anger was punctuated by a sharp ecto shotgun blast into the nearest tank the GIW had amassed. They were still trying to destroy the Infinite Realms, new agents having convinced the older ones that the Infinite Realms being connected to their realm was a hoax to keep them from following through. Jazz, Sam, and Tucker were all barricaded behind what remained of their equipment, so it was only Danny and Danielle who remained amidst this reality ripped in between the two realms that GIW’s stupid equipment had created. Yet once again Danny wasn’t able to continue his attack, getting cut off by a mostly startled scream from Danielle as they once again focused their fire on her. First it had been the humans of the team, now it was Danielle, and it was really starting to piss Danny off.

“Stop targeting her you sick bastards! She’s fourteen!” Danny belted, flying yet again between their weapons and Danielle, and blasting the cannon with a prolonged stream of ectoplasm to bend its course. They would soon shift it back to pointing at them, but at least that took a few seconds.

“So you claim. Yet the only thing it means for us is that she’s a liability for you. You’re the stronger one, but you’ll let your guard down for her. A pathetic imitation of humanity that may have won over the Fentons, but not us. We know you’re nothing but an imitation of humans made by nothing more than destructive residue.” That was Operative N, the new blood that had worked up the ranks. Danny liked to call him Nimrod.

“We’re not faking it!” Danny shouted back, feeling his voice crack with the desperate protest. “SOME ghosts are residue, but others are just as sentient and full of good emotions as humans are.” If only he could turn this stupid human into a ghost so he could see it too. But life, even stupid life, was too precious to waste just to prove a point.

“....Test run the experiment,” Operative N directed, unfazed by Danny’s outburst. The Operative next to him stepped forward as others to the sides of them started firing a barrage of ectoblasts their way. It was a distraction to keep their attention, Danny knew that. But Danielle still wasn’t as good as he was, and he didn’t miss the way the experimental blaster pulsed red instead of green. He couldn’t let Danielle get hit by that, so when she let out another yelped scream, getting hit by three ectoblasts, Danny flung himself into her when the other Operative took that as an opening.

The experimental blaster was faster than the originals, and Danny didn’t have time to bring up a shield after body slamming Danielle away. He could only tense in preparation for the damage, knowing he could handle more than Danielle could when it came to a beating.

He wasn’t ready for this.

The bloody red blast of energy wasn’t ectoplasm, and when it slammed into Danny’s chest his voice ripped from him in a startled scream of agony as he realized what they had done. The barbed wire poison splitting his ghostly skin held a familiar scorching dry flame feeling that he’d only experienced once before, a hand flying to his ribs as he crashed to the ground and couldn’t help curling into a ball, deaf to his friends’ and family’s cries for him.

Those freaks had weaponized blood blossoms.

It was worse than being trapped in a barrier of them, the poison now sank into his flesh instead of caressing it with noxious fumes. The fight wasn’t over though, so he willed his twitching limbs to work as he wanted them to, shoving them underneath himself to push himself upright, never mind the green blood dripping from his side.

“There we go,” Operative N commented emotionlessly, motioning with his hand to another Operative. “Use him now.”

That was the only warning Danny had before a clamp half his size snapped down on top of him, binding him in its case and pulling him from the broken ground. Danny let out a strangled noise as his arm was smashed against his injured ribs, legs scrambling to try and remain connected to the soil and feeling the anti ghost barrier keeping him trapped in the prickly bindings. It was only when he heard a slight click, and the fat needles poking into his skin started ripping energy from him that he vaguely remembered something about them using him as a battery for their machine. They obviously didn’t care how it treated him either, for Danny could swear getting electrocuted hurt less.

“Scream all you want, Phantom. Not even you could break out of there now that we’ve worn you down,” Operative N commented, having the audacity to sound bored.

Danny barely registered Danielle repeatedly sinking what power she could into the clamp that had a hold of him, but it didn’t seem effective. He hadn’t wanted to resort to blowing everything up, not sure what the machines would do to the realms they were connected to if they burst from overload.

But at this point he didn’t see any other option. If the realms were going to blow up, then he’d rather they blow up because he tried to save them.

If you want to hear me scream, then I’ll scream.

Danny’s defiant thought was accompanied by him forcing his mouth to snap shut, struggling with half stifled gasps to fill his lungs with as much air as they could hold. It took a minute too long, but as soon as he maxed out the air he could hold Danny forced it out again in a drawn out wail.

Jazz had expressed before that she hated hearing Danny’s ghostly wail. She’d even commented that the name itself seemed like a pathetic attempt to calm the fears of children when stories were told about it. As Danny’s abilities had advanced the wail became less of a B movie imitation of ghosts and more of a source of nightmares. A distorted sound of burst eardrum silence smothered by shrieking similar to subtle tinnitus, but with the undertone of the voices of those who had died screaming.

Jazz always heard her brother’s voice over the others.

This was the first time Danny had fully figured out how to make his wail non directional. An orb of earth shattering sound rippling in waves from his form, crushing the machines around them like sealed cans dropped in liquid nitrogen. The only reason his allies weren’t hurt was because the waves were strangely more gentle in their direction, just enough that Danielle could hold a barrier over them while they pressed their palms to their ears, collapsing to their knees.

The wailing only lasted slightly less than two minutes, but the chain reaction explosions continued for several more. As soon as the device holding him was broken Danny let out a ripple of ectoplasm to shatter it. Then soft coils snapped out and wrapped around his allies, dragging them closer to his floating form where he could raise a shield around all of them.

Sam took charge of shielding Tucker and Danielle with her own body as realm rending explosions thrashed their tiny bubble to and fro. Danny was able to keep them from being thrown against the sides of the barrier, but none of them could even attempt to stand with all the vibrations of varying intensities. Jazz stole as long of a look at Danny as she could since she couldn’t do anything else, feeling her heart skip a beat when she saw the hole punched into the left side of his chest, blast marks searing out from it to cover his shoulder and nick his cheek. All of the wounds were oozing the green blood Danny had as Phantom, but he didn’t seem to be paying them any mind.

Another sharp, shuddering jerk signaled the end of their whirlwind ride, and suddenly the group had perfectly still, solid ground under them and silence ringing in their ears. It was deafening, in a good way compared to the wail from before, and Jazz heard the others mimic her shuddering breaths. But before she could visually check on her brother she heard him fall. Nothing like the exhausted drops he did when he couldn’t quite make it to the ground before letting gravity take hold of him again. It was the heavy crumple of a human body being dumped. And as Jazz snapped her head up Danny’s face fell into her view, his eyes closed and figure completely limp. Jazz watched his cheeks drain from color as a new spot of red bloomed across his white shirt, and her voice refused to speak.

Scrambling to her baby brother, Jazz cupped a hand to his cheek, horrified at the rapidly dropping temperature of his skin and using her other hand to shake his shoulder as roughly as she dared. Her voice found itself in moments to scream what had been repeating in her head.

“DANNY!”

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IIiiii am not immune to brain rot |D If you’re confused, good, I am too

Today my brain chose violence, and gave me some of the details of what led to the DP team getting ported to DC verse. So I wrote them while spamming the same 6 songs X’D And then I drew 2 pictures because I wanted both vibes.

This is getting way more attention that I even guessed might happen * wheeze *, so just a few disclaimers just so people are aware:

the DP crew are 2 years older than in the cartoon. because I can

Jack and Maddie are becoming really good parents. Because I’m tired of the “omg I’m a teenager and my parents suck” trope. They know Danny and Danielle are halfas, and it took them about a year to fully accept that. Now they’re rewriting studies to support sentient ghosts and more humane ways to deal with the violent ones.

It’s only in the recent months that they’ve started to actually study ways to help ghosts/halfas. So a lot of medical stuff for them is still unknown, but Jazz knows a bit more first aid than the average teen.

I’m not going to have romance at all. I find pushing the platonic boundaries way more fun and interesting. If you think it's romance, it's not.

I’m also more interested in Danny and Jazz’s sibling relationship than whatever either of them have going on with Sam and Tucker.

No update schedule. I follow the whims of my not normal brain.

_________________

Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @zeestarfishalien, @bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #11

It's an innocent ("please," Jason sneers, "there's nothing innocent about a plagiaristic propaganda machine encouraging minors to dance for sick ol' pervs while it spews misogynistic hate speech.'"

"okay, boomer,"

"the fuck did you just call me, replacement?") TikTok, one of those ones that kind of simmers in the background for a few weeks until someone with a decent enough following posts it on the Platform Formerly Known as Twitter and from there it seriously catches traction, blowing up until Tim knocks on Bruce's office door, phone in hand. Damian stands behind him, arms crossed and clearly simmering.

Bruce, fresh off a series of zoom conferences, raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, so you haven't seen it," Tim decides, striding forward.

Bruce's eyebrow jumps a smidge higher, on the edge of concern, as Tim thrusts his phone into his grasp.

"So," he begins, reaching over to refresh the mobile page "there's a video that's been making the rounds on Twitter and—well you should probably see it," He sighs over Damian's scoff as he clicks through the pop-up asking him to sign in or join TikTok, and presses "Watch Again", unmuting the video.

🎶 "Doo, badoo-badoo-badoo Badoo-badoo-badoo-badoo,"🎶 an upbeat background song hums as someone, presumably a student, films a school hallway with their phone. They walk past students talking near their lockers, some of whom flash peace signs and silly grins as the camera swings their way before continuing on.

But the main point Bruce gets stuck on is the all lowercase white text at the center of the screen that an automated woman's voice awkwardly narrates:

"when you go to school with bruce wayne's other long lost lovechild"

The student filming comes up behind a much taller student who faces away from him, in conversation with a black haired pale teenaged girl. She spots the cameraman and shoots him a confused, disgruntled look, saying something to the boy who then turns around.

Bruce quietly observes as the camera zooms in on a boy around Tim's page, possibly older. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a strong jaw, he raises an eyebrow at the one filming, looking beyond the camera, pitch black hair with blue undertones falling into his blue eyes. The camera momentarily zooms too far into those eyes then abruptly pulls back as he quirks a puzzled smile at the viewer, mouthing out an easily understandable "hi?".

The TikTok ends and seamlessly transitions to a person balancing their cat on an exercise ball with minimal success and this time Bruce presses the Watch Again button. The heart on the right side claims 750k likes.

Damian scoffs, louder, as it ends. "Clearly it is a hoax, but it has been popular among my classmates."

"The board hasn't made much noise about it—" Tim starts.

"And they won't," Bruce says, lifting his eyes from his phone. "Wayne Industries doesn't give statements on videos like these, no matter how viral they become. I've been getting lovechild claims since before I adopted Dick."

Which Tim knows, which is why his insistence on showing Bruce this one raises his hackles. He pins Tim down with a stare and despite Tim's perfected PR mask, he can see Tim is unsettled.

"B...he really, really looks like you." Tim admits. Damian scoffs for a third time and Tim shoots him a glare, "I get it, you don't see it, but you haven't seen the pictures of Bruce when he was younger."

"I don't need to!" Damian says angrily. "You're all being ridiculous!"

"All?" Bruce asks. Tim shifts awkwardly. "The family group chat has been talking," he says.

"I see," Bruce says. Because he does. Many claim Damian to be his doppelganger, but the boy actually favors Talia not just in skin tone but in the shape and color of his eyes, as well as the soft slope of her mouth and ears. Whether those features will sharpen once he goes through puberty is anyone's guess.

But this young man has Bruce's eyes. Martha's eyes.

That night they have a suspiciously full house for dinner, with even Jason dropping in, but no one says anything until Barbara wheels in for dessert, carrying a manila folder on her lap.

"What?" she says, when everyone stares. "Dick told me it was crème brûlée today!"

Bruce extends a hand wordlessly, and Barbara sheepishly hands the folder over.

"Bruce," she says, before he can open it, "I wouldn't have looked into this normally, but,"

"Just say it," Jason says, leaning back in his chair. "Take away the gray hairs, the receding hairline, and the wrinkles and the kid's a dead match."

"Take it back, Todd," Damian growls, "Father has a very full head of hair!"

"Not to mention a failed track record at keeping it in his pants, Exhibit A," Jason continues, pointing a fork at Damian, "oh wait," he says gleefully, "kid is definitely 18, so I guess that would make you Exhibit B!"

The table erupts, cutlery tinkling as Damian gets a knee up on the table to hurl himself at a cackling Todd, Dick jumping up to grab him as the others lean out of the way—

"Ahem!" Everyone stops cold as Alfred stands in the doorway, porcelain ramekins of crème brûlée stacked perfectly on a silver tray. Under his gaze, everyone sits back down, Damian and Jason both quietly uttering a "Sorry Alfie/Alfred," as they straighten up.

Bruce is oblivious to the chaos, Barbara biting her lip beside him as he stares blankly inside the folder at the printed copy of an adoption certificate.

Two days and several million likes later, another TikTok goes viral from the same user. Caught in the moment as whoever is filming runs up to the group, the same young man is chatting with a blonde in a red letterman jacket, a partially formed crowd around them. Even with one leg still in the cafeteria table, he towers over everyone.

"—sh. Look, we're all possibly Bruce Wayne's son!" the boy snarks. He has his hands out, palms up as if he's making a great point, and as he looks around he catches sight of the cameraman and his smirk drops.

"Ah Mac, c'mon dude not again—" and the TikTok ends.

[dancingbirdie]

Some goblin Astarion things.

He pinches you when you toss and turn too much in your shared bed. “Wake up and stop flailing! Gods. I’ll have bruises from your pointy elbows in the morning.”

He sews “kick me” on the butt of Gale’s trousers in dark, dark gray after the Wizard pisses him off. Karlach sees it with her dark vision when they’re in the Underdark and promptly knees him in the ass.

He steals all of Halsin’s wooden ducks and plants them in Wyll’s tent, for shits and giggles.

He tries to line a tripwire across the front of Lae’zel’s tent entrance, but ends up pricking himself on a blow dart booby trap he failed to perceive. Incurs -3 hit points and the bleeding condition for 10 turns.

He nips your neck like a disgruntled cockatoo when you tease him in front of the other party members.

He puts swamp green clothing dye in Shadowheart’s bottle of hair dye when she’s not looking, causing her to endure some sickly green highlights for a fortnight.

He steals Wither’s staff while he’s speaking with Jaheria and hides it among Lae’zel’s armory. Gets hauled over by the ear by Jaheira to apologize to Withers. And Lae’zel.

He hides in the bushes near camp and makes god-awful wailing noises to keep Scratch and the owlbear cub barking while the party is trying to get some sleep.

He fabricates some ridiculous story about how the Weave is really a hoax designed by Big Magic to control the masses, just to see Gale go purple in the face while arguing against this “utter tripe.”

He loudly proclaims that he overheard Shadowheart telling Wyll she could beat Lae’zel in unarmed combat with a hand tied behind her back, then scampers away cackling when the two lady warriors start yelling at one another.

[dumbbitchgalore]

💖 Cockwarming old man!Price 💖

TW: nsfw, mean!Price, kinda abusive??, possible alcohol abuse

Part 2

Last post I talked about blowjobs with old man!Price with a sprinkle of cockwarming. However this wil be dedicated to cockwarming with Price.

Now this can go one of two ways

Option 1: John is having an extremely shitty day trying to come to terms with his retirement

Or

Option 2: John becomes self-conscious of his mind due to his erectile dysfunction and wholeheartedly believes that his lucky charm will leave him for someone virile.

Let’s go with option 1

He is absolutely gutted about his retirement and the only way he can express it is through anger

John doesn't cry, he never does

This wholre retirement just reinforces how obselete he's become to his squad that he built from nothing

And the beer only helps qualm his thoughts about everything he's done in his life

He goes through every major life event and thinks what he couldn've done differently

He lets his mind wander until it hands upon you

His darling baby

Fuck this is a hoax, some sick twisted game that you're playing on him

You wanna make him think that he's special and he's still needed in this world

He downs another bottle at the thought, gritting his teeth as the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth worse than the cheap beer that he's drinking

He groans in irritation and does what he does best at his age

His calls you into the living room where he sits on the couch watching the football match holding a freshly opened bottle of beer

You walk up to him, kissing his cheek and caressing his upper arm slightly worried about the frown on his face

Before you can even get a word of comfort out of your mouth, he slaps you hard

You yelp in pain, holding your cheek

What on earth? Did your John just slap you

John looks away, annoyance etched onto his face as a twinkle of guilt in his eyes

You soften slightly

He didn't mean it, must be the alcohol

John turns to face you and opens his mouth to apologise but sees you slowly taking off your panties

John cocks his head to the side in confusion

He just hit you and you're taking your panties off?

You should be mad, furious

You should be leaving him, walking right out of the door

That's what you should be doing

Not taking off your damn panties

Stupid brat. He thinks to himself

"John..." You coo softly, "Are you stressed honey?"

John groans in anger and nods his head

You sigh softly

You won't hold what he did a minute ago, your love was stressed and that can't be good for his heart

You sink onto your knees and paw at his crotch lovingly, enamored by him

You nuzzle against his clothed cock, breathing in his musky scent

He just went out for a run and you could smell it on him

Fuck, was it driving you wild

He smelled so good, so manly, so... heavenly

It made you feel safe, cared for, protected

You sigh softly inhaling as much of his scent as you could

As much as you loved how John smelt after a workout or working in the gardens, you absolutely hated what it did to his body

You hated how his pudgy belly was becoming smaller

You frown, you loved his pudge!

You stand up and take the beer bottle out of his hand, bringing it to his lips

You make him finish the whole bottle in one go

You needed his cute beer belly back!

You smile softly when he finishes the whole bottle and you put in down on the coffee table while you sink back down on your knees

Whining against his crotch, you pull on the waistband of his sweatpants and out comes your prize

His oh so stupid cock just hanging there with no real use

Your eyes glimmer

"Baby, can we try something?" You ask softly

He simply nods, not really saying much. Not that you mind

You retireve a cock ring from the coffee table drawer and put it on him before straddling his waist and sinking down

You sigh softly. God, you loved the feeling of him

The cock ring didn't do much to get him hard but made it a bit easier for you to slide his dick in

But whatever, you like how pliant it felt inside you

You look at him lovingly but it only angers John

You shouldn't love him, he's old and unwanted

You see this thoughts running a mile a minute so you lean in to kiss him

John gets even more angry by your tender nature

So he grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs it so hard that you yelp as your face is pulled away from his

Your back arches slightly, a throaty gasp leaving your lips as your scalp begins to sting

"Sit there like the cock sleeve you are. No talking." He says sternly

And that's what tou did all night long while he watched his inane football match

A slight movement or a soft whine set John off causing him to spank you hard, or pull your hair or slap your right across the face

You like the good darling you are, you listened to him and did what he told you

You sat still, filling full while you were stuffed with his cock inside of you

Once John calms down, a wave of regret washes over him

He takes you to bed and does nothing besides worshipping your body, making you cum more times than you can count on your fingers with his tongue

His silent way of begging for your forgiveness

[romanoffsbish]

Forever Mine

Natasha Romanoff x F!R (College AU)

Warnings: Angst -> Fluff / HE | Classism / Break-Up | Insecure R | Jealous / Possessive Natasha | Violence

Natasha was supposed to be having the time of her life, it was her final year playing college ball and she was hoping to end it on a good note but you threw her off her game. So, the night before another she found you at a party… | WC: 7,252

Smut: Rough -> Soft | Fingering (Both) | Oral (R) | Thigh-Riding (N) | Denial / Overstimulation | Choking

18+ | Minors DNI

Natasha glared across the room as she caught a fool with their eyes on you—the love of her life (the ex). You smiled politely; sweet, the way that always made her face hot and her heart skip—the most beautiful feeling.

Everything was perfect, but then you ended things. Nonsense uttered about focusing on school but you were not dressed like someone who preferred solitude.

You looked like you were here to fuck and forget, which only further soured her mood. Here she was waiting, hoping to see you since you won't answer her calls and you were relaxing at a frat party in a scandalized fit. It only made her heart ache even more for owed answers.

——

Her first thought was to yell at you, to cross the room and scream at you in front of your peers until you apologize or run out crying. The rational side of her could see you were out of your element, while they told jokes you nodded but your smile had lost its shine. It was clear to her you were definitely not feeling joyful.

Which is more in line with what she expected since you two were just madly in love a month ago, then you came back home from Christmas vacation with her family in Malibu, where the weather was dreary. It was a weekend full of pretentiousness, her parents to blame but with you at her side she could actually handle it all.

One smile from you and she'd settle, you were so calm and loving, everything she felt she didn't deserve but nonetheless she clung to with firm arms. Every time her parents upset her, she'd find and pull you close and you would let her without a single prying question, the two of you would naturally melt into pure tranquility.

Unfortunately that peace you brought her now ceased to exist, you changed in a blink, the quiet car ride home alarmed her enough, you fell asleep on the couch that night then somehow she lost her entire heart in three days when you stumbled right out the door—you left.

She shared her New Years kiss with a bottle of Rosé, the one that Wanda gifted you on your twenty first birthday, when everything was so much simpler.

You were saving it for your second anniversary, which was meant to occur a few days ago, but you walked out before that could happen so she took a large swig then poured the rest of the bottle out onto your cacti that filled a corner of her house. Now you lived in a friend's dorm until you can find somewhere else to stay. The redhead begged you to stay, even offering to stay in a hotel until you could find somewhere secure and safe.

You refused and rushed out to avoid sobbing in front of her and begging her to just love you even if you would never be good enough for her; Natasha was luxury.

You were too, but beauty was in the eye of the beholder and you were trusting the hoaxed, who lived to judge. Natasha had a suspicion for what your motive was. The breakup has been on her mind every day and it is what keeps her up at night. She should be furious, it is her right after all, but all she feels is deep pain and regret.

Regret for not publicly calling out her family for ever shunning you; making sure you felt her love, she saw a flash of unwillingness and regret before you turned away from her and ran out the door with two bags and there in turn lies the pain, not being able to love you. A set of tears slid down her cheeks as she remembered that night, the inevitable memory spiral underway.

Her mind cleared when she heard you say no way, there were a million reasons for it but she assumed the worst based on her petty observations. Natasha saw a look of discomfort on your face and her nonchalant resolve crumbled, the rage she felt towards you turned into something she could express as she walked over to the both of you and punched DJ square in the face.

"Oh my god," you gasped, "Natasha what the fuck?"

"The prick should have kept their hands to themself!"

You rolled your eyes, prepared to defend your friend but DJ rushed forward and head-butted Natasha in the nose, blood gushed and you felt queasy at the mess you had made by ignoring their encouragements to talk with her, maybe if you had this headache wouldn't be.

They ran with the violence though, leaving you frozen in place, unable to move in their tumultuous direction.

Until Natasha easily got the upper hand seconds later, tapping into the power of the Greek gods to punch the poor kid in the gut. Your lanky friend went flying and you realized it was time to intervene before cops arrive.

DJ bounced back fast and went to swing next but you jumped in between them and the brunette faltered. A sigh of dejection left their lips and they lowered their fist but the glare didn't waver. "Watch your back, Red."

You sent them off with a smile of appreciation and they nodded like it was a secret code. Natasha wore her envy close to her chest until it spread to her features.

"Are you really already seeing other people," she cried, a direct contrast to her glassy eyed glare, even when her words are angry she can only express devastation.

"Natasha," you pled, "come with me upstairs, please."

The redhead didn't want to give you the grace of a shameless admittance. You humiliated her by breaking her heart before the semi-finals game that DJ had to save. Natasha was the best on the team, coming in at only 5'3 but she had unbeatable court skills. That was supposed to be her night for scouts to truly take notice of her, she was meant to shine, but now, instead she is on the eve of the finals on the verge of being benched.

Instead of practicing her free throws down at the court with the metal chains; sprinting short distances in manic repetition, or most importantly, getting sleep; she is intermixed with drunk college idiots for you.

Because, as much as she hated admitting it, she just can't do any of those things without you being her personal cheerleader anymore—she is exhausted.

Something you noticed when you finished wiping her face clean of the blood and smudged makeup. Under it all, you found winter kissed cheeks where faint freckles remained, waiting for the rays to bring them back, the urge to kiss over the bridge of her nose arose. A soft, instinctual smile graced your face until you caught sight of her dark circles and dry, flaky skin. "Natasha."

It was a whisper but she heard your shock and guilt. Though the redhead misunderstood your concern, and boasted, "they had it coming, you needed protection."

You reached down to rinse off the rag, then began to smooth it over her face once more, the warmth of the fabric blanketed her in false serenity as you couldn't just let her be cocky and vaguely noble. "You don't need to protect me Nat, and especially not from my friends." Natasha rebuffed you with a promise, her tone venomous, "I will always protect you from tools."

"You shouldn't," you changed your approach, and just as expected she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, why's that?"

You sighed regretfully, "I'm not yours anymore Nat..."

"Says you," she grunted, "I had no say nor an actual explanation. Just lies about focusing on school as if we weren't both already focused students at the start."

"We're on different paths," you weakly tried again, moving to gently clean her discolored, swelling nose. "Don't," she warned as she momentarily turned cold, her eyes hardened and she pushed your hands away only to disgust you as her hands popped her nose back into place, she took in a shaky breath and you broke even more seeing the way she tried to hide her wince.

"Please, just let me take care of you Nat, you're only hurt because of me." Natasha scoffed bitterly, "that's a gross understatement if I've ever heard one before."

"I—," you flinched and Nat regretted her harshness instantaneously, her scowl quickly fell into a frown.

There was no satisfaction like she thought there'd be in rightfully scolding you for breaking her heart. All that was left in her mind was to receive the truth for it all.

"Why?" her murky, viridescent eyes filled with tears and you sighed sadly, "I heard your parents Nat, what they said, and I couldn't help but to see the end." You felt it was time to be honest, leaving the ball in her court on if she even wanted to fight for this or if she was angry enough that she'd pick her family over you.

Natasha's expression did a 180 as you confirmed her worst nightmare, her features rightfully downcast, she was pissed off, but wasn't exactly sure who at just yet, them for ever interfering or you for not talking it out.

"What they said isn't true," she growled, "not to me."

You chuckled humorlessly, "they're right Nat. I am not going to ever be at your caliber. I'm going to be a low wage teacher for heaven's sake, you'll be an engineer."

"So what? Those are jobs!!" Natasha lost it and you fed off her anger, gut gnawing detest clear as you spoke on, "Melina said it best, you're beautiful—better, and I..."

Natasha harshly slammed her lips to yours, body seamless as it slipped off the counter and spun you around until she had you corralled. The upset woman blindly reached behind herself to lock the door, then she pushed you into the marble until you whimpered.

The way your body was bent back over the sink hurt, the side of your face being pressed onto the chilled mirror. Natasha was just trying to silence you, to keep you from saying anything remotely self deprecating, but then she couldn't stop herself from seeking more.

In a haste manner she smoothly lifted you up from beneath your thighs and hoisted you onto the counter like you weighed nothing and proceeded to kiss you. All rational thought left you as she devoured your soul, just like she always did whenever she kissed you quiet.

A metallic taste pulled you from your desires, you pulled away and tried to push her back but it was fruitless. Natasha was soft in nature, when she wanted to be—her eyes used to regard you so, but now they were hard and terrifying. Most weekends you'd spend laying your head on her stomach that had a soft bloat for you to snuggle against. Right now though, with her entire body tensed you were reminded of her strict gym regimen and diet, designed just for her scholarship.

"Please," she begged, something that momentarily stunned you since she never was one to beg. "I need this Y/N, like a fire needs air to breathe, I need you."

"You have to let me go," you tried to sound genuine but she could hear the tremble in your voice. "I-I can't be the reason you lose your family Natasha. Yelena ne—."

"I'd give everything and everyone else in the world up if it meant you'd be by my side," she cut you off, her heart would shatter if Yelena took her parents side but it would be bearable if you were there to hold her tight.

"I'm not worth it Tash," you tried again, pushing with all your might because you knew how close the sisters are, but Natasha wouldn't relent on this. Instead, she burrowed her face into the warm space between your shoulder and jaw that was made just for her to do.

"You're worth plenty," she mumbled against your skin that now felt the warmth of her love as she suckled.

"Na-Nat," you moaned and she hummed in sync, "I need you to let go," she paused abruptly for emphasis, using your own words against you like a power move, "of this idea that I'm somehow better than you, Y/N."

"You—." Natasha cut you off, "don't need you to speak for me—especially when you parrot my idiot parents."

For the first time in forever you were silent, allowing Natasha a moment to just observe your sullen face. There was no spark left in your eyes to mirror your adventurous soul and it broke her heart even more which the redhead never thought possible. If she never heard from her parents again she'd avoid a felony.

"Yelena loves you by the way, something you know."

"I do," you admitted, "but they're your guys parents."

"Fuck them," she commanded, "they don't matter."

"They love you two." Natasha shrugged. "Yeah, but love shouldn't have limits, Y/N, and if theirs does then it's worthless to me. I want something real, and deep and could give two fucks less about your damn net worth."

Natasha decided right as she saw your longing glance that now is as good a time as any to finally confess her feelings, "I-," but she was suddenly nervous. A moment of heavy silence passed, your eyes curious and hopeful, yet guarded. "I love you," she admitted the truth she'd failed to so many times before. It had to be perfect, but then you said it first and instead of screaming it back she kissed you with so much passion you blanked.

That night she made love to you, but it wasn't enough.

Not only did you fail to see her devotion but you heard her parents, whom she once highly respected, dismiss you as worthy of her love anyways because of status.

They only had money because Melina works for the Starks, yet somehow they thought they were genuine elites. Nobody invited the family to galas, they just had an oversized house and sports cars to sell the image.

All her life the redhead was told how to exist to keep the whole facade up, what she should wear, how to impress adults, where to go—whether that be for dinner or college, and the list goes on until she finally ended her parents overbearing reign on her future.

Natasha chose engineering because it came easy to her, the same way that teaching and nurturing did to you, the exact reason the redhead fell for you, it pains her to see that what she loves most is being used against you.

Especially because what you are is light and love, and no amount of money could pay for such attributes, it was just organically woven into the foundation of you. It's what made you the perfect candidate for education.

Natasha is a firm believer that teachers make the world go round, even if she's had her fair share of the spawns of Satan himself, the ones who would punish her for her undiagnosed and therefore unmanaged ADHD. It wasn't until junior year that she found herself a you and if not for that she would be living without truth.

Mrs. Rambeau, known to her as Maria during lunch, was her first period Calculus teacher. The woman was stern at a first glance, but without the rowdy crowd of classmates she was soft and hilarious. The moments spent with her eased Natasha's own deprecating voice.

It was her who convinced Natasha to go for what she wanted and not to follow her mom into a lab or her dad into a lifelong play of sports that'd lead her to coaching and to the inevitable breakdown of her body over time.

At her graduation it was her she sought out first, and where she met her wife, Carol and their daughter, Monica. The couple had laughed knowingly at the awestruck teenager before Maria hugged her tight. Then Natasha lifted their little girl, letting her hang off her flexed forearm and found her heart melted as the sweet girl with the dimples and swaying curls giggled.

Natasha saw her future clearly through them; a family, something she only could have with you in her arms.

"I'll give up engineering," she declared, "be a teachers assistant to the prettiest one this towns yet to meet."

"What?" You shook your head, "don't be insane now."

"I'm afraid I've already fallen off my rocker detka," she teased, but you didn't share in the humor of the moment, her smile turned into a frown as she sighed, "I lost every last good part of me with you; the only way to bring me back is with our love restored."

"Natasha, I," you paused, a bit unsure where to start, but it didn't matter because she always knew what to say. "I'm no better than you," she continued with a smile that spoke of honesty. "I'm beneath you."

"No," you rebutted and she shook her head with an obvious expectation. "Seriously Y/N/N, if you don't teach the next generation then there's no future!!"

You chuckled, finally easing into your ex's embrace, "Natasha, I will hardly make a difference in their lives."

"You are so clueless," she groaned, "I love and hate that about you the most. Because, when you trip over your words and I kiss you silent it's perfect." Her lips quirked reminiscently and yours easily followed, then she was back to her enthused speech, "Yet, when I am telling you just how amazing you are, you still push back. I just want you to see what I do, let me love you."

"You love your family," you reminded her once again and she shrugged once more, growing tired of your baseless argument. "Not as much as I love you detka."

Natasha snorted painfully as your breath hitched, a bit too amused by your shock, as if her sentiment wasn't clear prior, even with the absence of her words. "The only question is do you love me enough to let me lead."

"I—." Once again you paused, but this time it was because you couldn't refrain from yanking her back into you for a kiss. A rushed 'sorry' slipped from your lips between steamy, sloppy open mouthed kisses, meant mostly for the wince as your nose had nudged hers but it was emotional in tone so she understood it held a much deeper meaning. Forgiving you was easy...

Especially when she had your body to release her anger upon, her fingers slipped between the tense skin of your abdomen and skirt, "is it okay?" As soon as you moaned yes her svelte fingers slipped over the wet hot mess she'd created, pulling breathy moans from you as she parted your slick lips with her twitching fingers.

Natasha knew what she was doing, teasing you was her specialty, known to build you up until you were crying tears of immense joy. The redhead was lowering you into a false sense of security though, her thumb lightly pressed into the nub that pulsed with need then she changed the pace and plunged into your tight walls.

"Oh fuck," you threw your head back and hoped the glass wouldn't shatter, fortunately it didn't but you sure did break the sound barrier with your cries as she went from one to three fingers between a heartless set of thrusts. Her palm pressed and dug into your clit every single time her digits slammed back into you, each time she reached even deeper in as your growing arousal made stretching you out so easy. You trembled with such need the redhead could've cum on the spot, the same way you felt with the vicious pace she'd set.

It wasn't too far from your normal encounters, as soft as your relationship was, Natasha was very passionate in the bedroom. There was usually a delicate flair to the way she would pound into your cunt, but this time it was deliciously vicious. To the point that breathing became a struggle for you as the redhead masterfully brought you close to the edge. Teetering was all you could do though as she never let you fall fully, which was so unlike her, usually you had to beg her to stop..

The free hand not buried within you lifted your shirt and tossed it across the bathroom in one fluid motion. Her tongue swift and warm as it trailed down the side of your neck, lathing over the brutal marks as she left them behind. Natasha needed to remind you and the entire campus who was going to forever have you, which is why she continued on down. Impatience at the forefront of her mind as she remembered what it was like to bring you to the edge, so she ripped your bra and you felt the reminder of immense pleasure as her tongue curled beneath your nipple, lips suctioned to your heated skin as she began to suck and nibble.

Drool pooled under her chin and slid down your skin as she lavished both of your breasts, keeping you a muffled moaning mess but no matter the waves of pleasure that followed the curl of her fingers or the ruthlessness of her teeth, you just couldn't reach that special place of pleasure because the redhead also knew just what not to do and it was starting to hurt.

"Na-Natasha please," you finally gave into the desire, needing release and not understanding the denial as your thighs impulsively tried to shut around her arm. The redhead considered it, always loving when you begged, but she couldn't just yet, her fingers stopped but they remained buried deep within. "N-no! Why?"

The redhead released the side of your breast that had just been caught between her teeth, the burn of her former grip lingered and weakened your fortitude as you caught a glimpse of her heavy turmoil. "Natty?"

There was a level of despondency that alarmed you. Ever since she saw you tonight, her mind just couldn't stop wondering—have you been with someone else? The sickening thought, that it could be DJ, made her behave irrationally, her fingers tensed inside of you.

"Who's been taking my—," Natasha's growl was cut off by your abrupt plea, "Natasha, look at me." She didn't. Your voice was strained from priorly screaming, but even so it remained strong, "look up, come on baby."

Still, she remained frozen, trapped within her mind as her fears continued to mercilessly taunt her. It broke you all over again to see just how insecure she had become since the breakup. Knowing your choices led her to this moment, where she'd doubt you, hurt a lot.

"I am, and always have been yours," you practically begged her to believe you, tone sincere and hardly influenced by your need to cum. "I have not, and would not have been with another. I only want you Nat, please." The redhead lifted her gaze from where her chin was pressed into your breast to find your earnest face. She believed you, but she was still so mad and kept her forgiveness shadowed behind dark eyes. "I'll believe it when everyone else does; scream my name..."

The way her calloused fingertips brushed over your most sensitive spot within as she curled her digits, holy hell—you nearly blacked out; the corners of your vision blurred as your eyes rolled when her move repeated, over and over, each new thrust more aggressive than the last and that sent you cascading into your bliss after having already received her veiled approval.

A loud scream of her name that became a desperate chant until eventually you were no more capable of an incoherent set of babbles as she kept up her brutal pace was, well, it was clarifying. It finally put the redhead at ease with your truth, she was able to feel as your walls squeezed her in place with every desperate cry of her name that dripped from your chewed up lips.

The bitter tension left her body in a whoosh but all that did was soften her thrusts. A warm, wet kiss left at the base of your neck made your walls quiver with the aftereffects of the high and it became apparent then that Natasha didn't have the interest to stop herself.

"Nat," you called out hoarsely, "you need to rest."

Though your body resisted the message your mind was sending as it reacted pitifully when her wet fingers departed your warmth, just to slide up and slowly stroke your clit, steadfast on keeping you engaged.

"I'll rest when I'm full," she teased against the side of your breast, where her tongue returned to trace over your sensitive skin. "N—," your words faded into a gasp when her teeth grazed your sore nipple just before the redhead began to suckle again, with so much passion and effort you'd think you were feeding her. In a way, you were as the lust clouded your responsible mind, and just like that you were giving into her slightly.

Your fingers, fueled by desire, roughly wove into her hair and the passion was back on, in full force as she released your nipple with a loud pop as she groaned. A strong arm slid beneath your ass and pulled you from the counter and in a flash you found yourself pressed into a frat boy's lumpy mattress. Natasha admired you up close and purred huskily, "such a pretty thing."

"N-Nat," the redhead slipped her tongue into your mouth and sullied your protest into obscurity as her rough hands explored your every curve. A whimper vibrated beneath her palm, having had slid up to wrap her fingers around your throat, the way you mutually craved. There was a possessive, domineering glint in her eye the moment she pulled away to see the result.

You were always such a worrier, so she knew the only way you'd shut up is if she made you—it was also such a turn on for her to watch you go cross eyed every time she cut your access to air off, it was a delicate play of pain and pleasure she had mastered, it always left you desperate for more, something she saw in your eyes just before your lips met again in a passionate kiss.

Her teeth had clashed with yours and you tasted the metallic consequence, which only made you feel hotter. Both of her hands slid down your sides, painfully slow, you could barely breathe as her toying with you worked you up. Natasha's clit pulsed with yours when she felt your thighs tremble as her fingers oh so gently landed on the slippery skin, but with a coded firmness as she'd gripped onto them. The look in your eyes told her she'd won, the smirk let you know she knew; she spread you out further, pecked your lips and spoke, "I am going to devour you now Y/N, I've been deprived long enough."

Before you could grapple with your conscience and deny her on the basis of her own wellbeing she was situated with her face before your slicked lips. The aroma of your essence naturally wafted her way and the saliva that filled her mouth was autonomic enough to inspire her to surge forward to lap up the trails of you that ran down your plush thighs. Every once in a while she'd stop to play with your heartbeat, suctioning her lips at the apex of your thigh, nearest to your mound that only further glistened with neediness.

Natasha knew she had a game to prepare for, the same way you did—but she saw prep differently than you. Sure, sleep was important, but if she was expected to win, she would need to have her taste of you first. After all, you should remember her game time ritual; to fuck her pretty, good luck charm dumb the night before. It had never failed her, until you disappeared of course, which only proved, to her, that this sequence mattered.

A groan left the redhead when she finally dove into you, but fortunately for her you found pleasure in the way she let her pain vibrate through your intimacy. Your back quickly arched as her tongue swirled around your clit and she took pride in knowing you were so distracted by the pleasure she gave you. In your right mind, you would've pushed her away, but that's exactly why she worked so hard to get you to be this pliant..

"Mmmm," you expressed your feelings through a low hum as your hips twitched and pressed your core further against her face, letting her tongue reach even further within, where you by some degree tasted even sweeter. This subtle change always drove the redhead to lose her mind as she strained her neck just to reach your sweetness again. The carnal hunger drove her hands to grip your thighs tight enough to leave bruises and press you further apart, the sounds that came from below were down right lewd now, fueling your praises along and leaving Natasha's boxers stuck to her skin.

"Ohhh shit," you shrieked when you felt the tip of her tongue barely graze a particularly sensitive spot, dots of white filled your vision and Natasha hardly heard your mindless praise with the way your thighs tried to double up as earmuffs. If not for her trained strength, she would likely be deafened to your waves of pleasure, which she needed to fuel her own but she managed to keep you apart just enough to hear your pretty cries.

You were so heavenly, Natasha was overjoyed to have you like this again, her hollow walls quivered with such a need as she felt your juices drip down her chin, that she nearly readjusted both of your bodies to fuck your face but she was too desperate to bring you to climax. Which is why she pulled her tongue out, chuckling devilishly against your sensitive folds when you whined in protest, you looked down, dazed. It was the hottest thing to witness as she locked her gaze with yours.

Natasha placed a few open mouthed kisses to your pussy lips as she slowly made her way up to your clit, dark gaze stuck on yours, you stopped breathing for a moment when you took her appearance in. A bit of the lust wavered from yours as she slowed it down, and she saw the concern in yours as the bruising had worsened.

Before you could grapple with your sound morality her tongue softly caressed your neglected clit, you mewled and nearly fell back down but Natasha wasn't having it. "Eyes on me detka," her gravely tone sent a delightful shiver down your spine—you were enraptured as you watched, and felt, her swollen lips brush over your clit.

"Na—," you were going to beg for relief but stuttered as two of her fingers teased your entrance, she slowly pumped her fingertips in and out as her lips only covered your clit, offering no real stimulation. Until she finally broke the silence, "give me everything."

Her lips suctioned around your swollen nub, and you nearly blacked out as her fingers slid all the way in, predatory eyes piercing into your closing set. Your left side jutted off the bed as the intensity of the pleasure you felt was just too much for your body to bear after so much overstimulation. Natasha swiftly readjusted her body, arching her back to give her wrist more space to move, but mostly to allow her to hold your body down with her right arm pressing into your stomach.

Sweet arousal continued to fill her mouth as it gushed up with every thrust of her fingers, you were so close and she wanted to be closer to you. So her thumb replaced her lips on your clit, as they were traveling up your body, knees holding you open as the arm holding you down now held her up. Your thighs trembled and most of your body ached but you welcomed her tongue down your throat without resistance. It was as if all you needed was to taste yourself on her lips because just like that you were squirming, trying desperately to close your legs and this time Natasha allowed you to.

Once again she readjusted, pressing her covered core against your thigh, you felt the warmth and fell apart. The kiss you two shared broken as you both moaned in mutual ecstasy. You felt so desperate to get her off further, even though you were exhausted, so your hand slid into her shorts to find the results of her climax. There was thought of protest, but Natasha missed this and knew she wouldn't last long so there was no need. 

With skilled fingers you spread her arousal around then easily slipped two of them inside her warmth, pumping in and out slowly like she preferred, at first. The pace picked up when she clenched around your fingers, you began to kiss her again, and after just three firm curls of your fingers within her she came once more. In a matter of seconds you greedily pulled your fingers from below to slip them into your mouth.

You softly hummed around your fingers as you were reacquainted with your girlfriend's divine taste. The moment your lips were free you felt hers, it was a warm kiss full of sensuality as she mixed your arousals with her exploratory tongue. It made your out of order body feel as if it could actually go on for the entire night.

"I want more," she rasped against your lips, you met her with a soft giggle and she fell into you with a pout. "I want more too, Tasha," you sighed, your hands firm as they squeezed her hips, emphasizing your words. "But we should really get your nose fixed up and then get some sleep, since you need to be court ready."

Natasha reluctantly agreed, and moved to help you to clean up, she readjusted your clothes until you looked untouched by her, then she kissed you. You felt her love already but smiled as she said the words so softly, you hugged her tight and returned the sentiment. It was a perfect moment, her hand caressed your neck while her other gripped your opposite hip from behind.

For a moment you both ignored responsibility and just held each other close. A loud knock pulled you both from the peaceful embrace and you looked to your everything with wide eyes. Natasha was amused, a part of her wanted to rip the door open and walk out with you on shaky legs so everyone knew you were hers.

The other, more mature part knew to protect your dignity so she found an escape route instead, just in time for the drunken idiot to pull out their room key. She tore the sheets off their bed, stuffing them into a frat duffle she'd return later and rushed you onto the balcony, that conveniently had a set of diagonal stairs.

You ran across the street to her car, laughing as she held you back from opening your own door, her arm wrapped around your waist as she kissed the side of your neck affectionately. Once the door was opened by her, she allowed you to move forward while rushing back to her side so she could settle you in. You rolled your eyes and waited patiently as she turned the key in the ignition, turning the heater on for you before she buckled you in, then tugged on the strap to check it.

Soon enough she was driving you out of the area and towards her apartment, with her hand on your thigh, her focus remained on the road but her fingers gently traced shapes into your exposed skin at the red lights. Offering you comfort that you appreciated, as this is your first time in the space since you left. If you asked Natasha yesterday, she'd say you deserved to feel bad, but after a few minutes with you she felt otherwise.

It was quiet as you entered, the both of you moving around as if you never parted. You greeted Liho, and waited for Natasha to let you know she was ready as she went on to prepare the shower for you both. It gave you time to see nothing had changed, except that even more photos of you two together had been put up. You smiled as your heart cracked a bit at the depth of her.

It was overwhelming to go from genuine questioning to so assured in her love for you. It was easier though when she looked at you, hand extended and body bare. You let her guide you to the bathroom, undress you, and devote her time to taking care of you. Then, once you were both dressed for bed you did the same, you straddled her on the toilet and patched her nose up.

You deposited kisses to her unaffected skin, and lips with every wince and made sure not to take too long addressing her nose. Natasha preferred quick and painful to slow and still somewhat painful. There wasn't much you could do anyway but to apply an ice cube bag for as long as she'd allow then put a splint on.

In appreciation or infatuation, you received a deep kiss but you were not going to fall prey to her charm, again. You both needed to rest, so you departed in a hurry.

When you got out of the bathroom you expected to lay down on the tempurpedic mattress you missed just slightly more than your lover. But just as your behind nearly met the mattress you were scooped between buff arms, a tired giggle leaving you. "Not so fast."

You hadn't a chance to respond before she whisked you out of the apartment in your thin pajamas, but now that you've adjusted to being outside you whined, "it's cold," and the redhead giddily jumped into action. In a matter of seconds you were enveloped by warmth and cedar-wood, the familiar scratch of her letterman jacket brushed against your skin and you smiled. It was a brief moment of comfort until you heard her yawn.

"Natasha, it's two in the morning and your bus leaves at six," you instantly scolded the redhead, who now sported a skin tone nose splint that you hoped would blend well beneath her foundation. "I need to practice, the game is tomorrow, today is just travel and practice so we can sleep on the ten hour bus ride," she decided.

"We?" Natasha grinned. "Of course, just like before."

You couldn't help but to tease, "What if I had plans?"

Natasha smirked, her shoulders shrugged lazily as she took a perfect shot and mused, "they'd be something to cancel, I believe." The ball, as if on her side, swooshed into the metal net and her suave, inflated ego returned. "One might say this game will go down in history."

You rolled your eyes but a smile overtook your face as she came to deposit a kiss to your lips, as is tradition with these late night practices. The redhead admired you fondly, one hand cupping your cheek as the fingers of her other traced the yellow felt on your back; the perfect figure eights helped to calm her when she felt the push back against her fingertips, a touch to remind her that this—you, were real. For the first time in over three months the woman felt like she could breathe, having you in her arms made her forget her objective.

Then you giggled, teasingly calling out to her, "Natty?"

Natasha hummed, her hazy gaze met yours and your heart melted at the peace you watched settle in her. You felt guilty having to ruin the moment, especially after being the reason she was clinging, but you got it together, and firmly spoke, "get back to the net."

The redhead could've cackled, because with the late time you were actually just an adorable little grump, not your usual intimidating self. She considered challenging you, but she remembered how important the upcoming game is so she pulled you out with her.

"Natasha no," you cried, a body that felt like jello from a long day was not meant for the court. "I am tired." The redhead rolled her eyes and assumed the position, making you scowl, but you mirrored her body anyways because you love her enough to suffer through this.

Ask Natasha, and she'd say you were being dramatic because you were smiling from ear to ear whenever she got around you and yanked you into a rushed kiss. It was a flurry of movements, you could hardly register them, so you were likely not challenging her in the slightest but you were improving her performance.

"If I make this shot," Natasha caught your curious gaze and met it with a smirk; it'd been so long, the sun rays were casted around her and you couldn't believe you ever let her go, she was mesmerizing—to the point that you barely heard her tease, "we get married in Vegas."

"Absolutely n—," you were cut off by the squeal that left your own lips as her body abruptly collided with yours, an arm wrapped and flexed behind you having pulled you in to keep your arms from blocking her. The clang of the net, and your loud protests were shut out of your mind the moment the redhead kissed you, it was full of tenderness, a vulnerability you felt deeply.

"I will make you mine," she promised, and you melted further into her chest. "One day soon, you and I will walk down an aisle and into the rest of our lives, Y/N."

"Yeah?" Natasha pulled back to catch your expression, the tone you took playful and sweet, but your gaze was nothing short of a dreamers. Like you were starstruck by the redheads words, as if they were unexpected and the truth was they probably were to an extent, since you only just heard her true feelings. She nodded and you took in a shallow breath then chuckled in disbelief, this woman was going to be the death of you. "Maybe."

"Care to elaborate?" Natasha was intrigued, not having expected you to accept her faux proposal at the crack of dawn but nonetheless, she was excited just the same. "If you win tonight, I'll let you plan a better proposal."

Natasha grinned wider than she ever had before, at least in front of you, the red tinted her cheeks against her usual expression of perceivable neutrality and you suddenly were being lifted off of the ground. Giggles left the both of you in visible puffs, the cold morning air no match for the warmth of your shared love. A loud engine rumbled in the distance and the redhead caught sight of the bus as it turned into the lot. "Then I guess we shouldn't miss the bus, Mrs. Romanoff..."

Unbeknownst to you, as you laid your aloof head on her chest in the bus meant to lead her to victory, that the ring was already waiting for the day you'd say yes.

[itsgrimeytime]

i know i got him || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn! reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter

Summary: Ever since you showed up, you've had an effect on Rick. At least, that's what everyone said. Initially, you hadn't recognized it. But after one too many coincidences, it's starting to become a little impossible to ignore.

TWs: flirting, simp behavior, cursing, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Was listening to this song nonstop (so good btw) and my brain went... hmm. Rick is terribly down bad in this. Like eager to do things for you, following you around like a puppy dog, the works. Also this gif????? girl... Enjoy :)))) ]]

You had never really thought about how you affected him. Or how they thought you did, anyway.

"You're being ridiculous," you stated -plainly.

Maggie was trying desperately to convince you that you had one Rick Grimes wrapped around your finger. Rick Grimes? Wrapped around your finger? No way.

"Do you remember yesterday? When he went on a run to find you a pair of shoes?"

"That was not why he went out on a run," you laughed a little, mindlessly bouncing Judith against your side, "-we need more as a community than just-"

"Then, why-" she interjected, "-did he only come back with shoes?"

"He didn't," you countered, "-He had some cans of food, I remember."

"Two," she relented, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, "-he went out on a run for two cans of food?"

"Sometimes you can't find much-"

"Oh my god," Maggie rolled her eyes, "-you are unbelievable. Let me just show ya-"

You pursed your lips, as she walked ahead of you -beelining to Rick. She had quite the pep in her step, pregnant and all, "Show me?"

Before you could call out to her, she was at Rick's side. He seemed to be talking to Deanna, actually, and if he was talking to Deanna, it was probably important. He smiled at her, in a Rick sort of way, until she started motioning to you. You had no idea what she was saying, but his eyes flicked to you instinctively.

Now, you'd never thought about if he smiled differently at you, but it was kind of hard to ignore right now.

Eyes dipping over you and Judith, the bright grin on his face was very different than the one for Maggie previously. And it wasn't even like that one wasn't genuine, you could tell it was, this one was just different.

It was crinkly eyes and shining white teeth. It surprised you that it didn't even seem unfamiliar to you; how long had he been smiling at you like this? And you had just normalized it?

You guessed you didn't have a direct comparison but still-

You smiled back (maybe just as bright, you weren't sure) and gently waved.

Watching him laugh a little and shake his head (like he couldn't believe you were waving at him?), your eyes darted to the ever-so-slight pinks of his ears.

Before you could think about it, Maggie said something to grab his attention (eyes stuck to you before snapping to her), and they were both on the way to your side. Something worried in Rick's eyes, you felt some guilt coil into your stomach; what had Maggie said?

You couldn't ask about it before he was already at your side, hands itching to fuss over you -you could tell. He seemed to let them win.

"Maggie said ya got a headache?"

Right, it was a sort of offhand remark to Maggie. And it was hurting, the sun even stung your eyes a bit. But he left that conversation (obviously very important) because you had a headache?

The gears in your head were turning, and Maggie seemed to watch them -eyes stuck to your face. You couldn't believe it yet, there had to be a reason.

"Rick," you started, "-it's fine. It's minor, had it since I woke up this morning, I can-"

His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes gleamed with concern, hands coming to rest on your arm, "Ya had it since 'is mornin'?"

Shit.

"Yeah," you answered, still trying to fight your case, "-but really, Rick, it's nothing. I can manage-"

"Ya should go rest," he interrupted, taking Judith from your arms, "-least til' it gets a lil' better. 'S hurtin' your eyes, I can tell."

How did he know that?

"Rick, seriously-"

"I'll take ya home," he hummed, carefully, "-and I'll come back in an hour to check on ya-"

"Rick," you tried again.

"-Get some medicine from the doc', and bring it to ya myself," he finished, something in him decided.

You pursed your lips, trying a different angle, "Shouldn't you be getting back to Deanna?"

"She can wait," he responded, simply.

"Well," you frowned, "-it has to be important, I don't want to-"

"'S not as important as you."

The words faltered in your throat, and Maggie looked at you in a way that you could hardly grasp. Mouthing 'I told ya so', you thought on it. Maybe he was just concerned, I mean one thing-

And then, his hand came to rest on your lower back, guiding you home, and your brain promptly turned off.

Ever since that conversation, you'd been trying to reason. Keeping watch on your interactions with Rick (he did always smile at you like that, fyi), you were trying to rationalize it. Give it a reason. Other than what Maggie, and others, said, but it started stacking up.

It was a dreaded day, laundry day. And out of the cycle, it was your turn.

Sometimes, the people of Alexandria would just air dry their clothes for conservation reasons, really. And every time, there was someone assigned the duty. A little like how the meals were made, and someone had to help Carol -not that she'd ask for it. She was a little stubborn like that.

That being said, no one, and you mean no one, liked to do laundry. Specifically, because you had to get up early (to make sure you got all the sun power you could), and it took hours. Especially on your own.

You basically crawled out of bed at 4, maybe 5, in the morning. Still in your pajamas, you stalked through the streets of Alexandria -dragging your feet a little, you won't lie. Making your way over to the air drying area, you pulled out all the baskets and placed them along the ground -organized. It was probably the only time you ever really were these days.

Putting your hands on your hips, you let out a big, long sigh.

"Well," you tried to smile, still so asleep that your voice was cracking, "-the sooner I start, the sooner the hell ends."

Before you could even grab a single piece of clothing, a voice interrupted you -low in drawl like maybe he had just woken up.

"Ya need some help?"

Your eyes shot to him and something in your chest fluttered, stirring in your stomach. Rick was still in his pajamas (plaid pants low, and a plain t-shirt), eyes still heavy with sleep like maybe he'd just woken up too, and his hair probably the messiest you'd ever seen. There was a curl hanging in front of his head, you got the urge to fix it.

And maybe it was because you were half awake, but you did. The smile he got on his face after made warmth shoot to your toes -all dopey and sleepy. You kind of just wanted to gather him up in your arms, and maybe fall asleep on his chest (woodsy smell and body warmth). Luckily, that urge didn't come to fruition.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What the hell are you doing up this early?"

Not only was it odd that he was up this early, but like you said no one likes laundry duty. So why was he offering to help at all? If he had duties this early, shouldn't he be going and doing them? Why-

"'Eard it was your turn," he spoke, low and gravelly (you had no idea how to handle that), "- an' wanted to help ya."

You pressed your lips together, mind chiming 'wrapped around your finger'.

No one likes laundry duty.

"Thank you, Rick, but-" you started, "-I can tell you're still tired and I know for a fact you have a lot to do later today, so-"

"Nothin' to do," he hummed, wiping at his eye. Cute.

That had to be a lie.

"Asked Deanna for a break," he clarified, looking at you a certain type of way, "-Needed one anyway, thought I'd help ya."

"You're," you sputtered, a little in disbelief, "-You're taking a break day to help me with laundry? It is so much work-"

"Won't feel like work if I'm wit' ya."

Good god. Was he always this sweet? You couldn't have been that oblivious. Seriously.

"Guess I could use some company," you muttered, a little flattered but you tried to hide it. Rick just smiled at you in a way that made your breath hitch in your chest, you wavered on your feet.

"But, seriously," you added, "-if you need to take a break, on your break day, let me know, I'll-"

"'S long as you're workin'," he smiled, big and bright, "-I'm workin'."

"Is that," you laughed a little, "-Is that your way of making me take a break?"

He smiled differently then, mischievous, "Maybe."

You bit your lip and decidedly turned to the baskets, "Let's get to work then, Grimes, the faster we start, the faster we're done."

He joined your side, close enough to touch, it made your head spin a little. Before speaking, low like maybe a mutter, and maybe even nervous-

"Ya mind if I stick by ya for the day? 'Ve got nothin' else to do, figured I'd just be wit' ya. If 'at's alright?"

Good god.

You swallowed, blinking, but not quite turning to him, "Of course, you... Yeah, of course. I mean, I might have more chores-"

"I don't mind," he hummed, gentle, already hanging up something -not looking at you, "-'s long as it's wit' ya."

You blinked, damp shirt in your hands, just staring at him. Watching as he carefully clipped up the clothes, big hands ever-so-gentle like he didn't just drop probably the sweetest thing you'd ever heard. Genuinely too.

Shit, maybe they're onto something.

You decided to ask around.

"Honest question, Carol," you hummed, thumbing through a few of the ingredients. It was your day to help her, it's probably one of your favorite chores. You really enjoyed her presence, she was a close friend. Long story short, you trusted her judgment.

She hummed, gently grabbing one of the ingredients.

"This may sound so stupid, just know that I'm acknowledging that," you clarified, now looking at her, "-but do you think Rick is into me?"

Carol paused a moment, trying to decide how to react maybe, and you could already see her reaction. She was just a little too polite to say it instantly.

"Shit," you muttered, "-really?"

She pursed her lips, looking at you with a little pity almost, "'Fraid so. It's..."

She fell silent for a second, you just watched -patiently.

"-Everyone knows," she continued, hesitantly (like maybe she didn't want to embarrass you), "-Rick... I think he's been into you since the prison."

"The prison?" you nearly exclaimed, stalling in place. No way, "-what did he-"

"Remember the week 'at you were sick?"

Right, you'd been a little delirious from something. Maybe a little more than a cold? Nothing super serious, you remember Hershel telling you that but you had to rest. He was pretty sturdy on that. Turned out you couldn't have been doing anything, it made you feverish and nearly sleeping all the time-

"Ya ever wondered who took care of you?" she questioned, directly.

"No," you laughed, "-it was Hershel, he was the medic-"

"You sure?" Carol countered, eyes peeking at you -leveling a stare, "-He was feeding you, gettin' ya water? Stayed by your bedside?"

You faltered, something in you twisting, "Carol."

You'd remembered something like Rick feeding you, bites extended forward, and maybe the low timber of his voice. You'd just thought it was you being delirious; you had a thing for him, so you just-

"Carol," you repeated.

"He was there every day," she clarified, turning to the other side of the kitchen, "-as far as I know, he only left to do farmin' and see Carl or Judith. If you seemed to get worse, he got Hershel. But... otherwise..."

"Carol."

"None of us said anythin'," she added, busying her hands, "-because he didn't. 'At was his thing, it wasn't our place."

"For all this time?" you scurried to her side -hanging on to every word she said.

"Well," she sighed, turning to you fully now, "-we kinda figured he'd say something by now."

"God," you groaned, throwing your head into your hands, "-I have to be the dumbest person on the planet."

"To be fair," Carol soothed, "-ya didn't know."

You couldn't look Rick in the eyes for the rest of the day, or maybe you stared at him a lot more. It was all so confusing.

You decided then and there, that you'd try the most trustworthy person. The one who wouldn't lie to you, a little because he respected you too much. It did help that he was most definitely Rick's best friend.

"Hey, Daryl?"

You'd arranged a run with a few newcomers, and frankly made Daryl come because you wanted to have this conversation.

He didn't speak, just sort of grunted. It tracked.

"You're probably the most honest person I know," you cleared your throat, "-and I am pretty desperate at this point for just... honesty."

He turned to you fully then, something like concern in his eyes. The guy was truly a softie at his very core, you probably treasured your friendship the most out of everyone but it was a close call.

"Everythin' alright?"

You pursed your lips, "Yeah, yeah, don't worry. It's a... probably stupid thing actually."

He kept walking forward through the aisles of the store you were in, stashing away some essentials. You were doing the same, well, you were trying to.

"Stupid thin'?" he asked, not looking at you.

"Yes, it's dumb as hell, frankly," you laughed a little, "-but I just... I guess I want to know the extent of it."

Daryl turned to you, eyebrows furrowed together, "What the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?"

"Rick," you answered, and he seemed to take a second at the name, "-Is he really into me? Like everyone seems to believe?"

He didn't answer at first, just simply turned back to the canned foods, "Carol tell ya 'bout the prison? When ya were sick?"

"Yes," you swallowed.

"Ya should know the answer to 'at then," he spoke -gruff and straightforward.

"Well," you tried to argue, "-it's hard to understand it. I just... I don't know."

Daryl said nothing, walking forward through the aisle. You followed him, keeping your eye out for more that he hadn't grabbed. And for a moment, you thought he wasn't going to say anything else.

Suddenly, he spoke up, "He can't focus when you're on runs. Deanna 'ates it."

You opened your mouth to ask just how he knew that, but he interrupted you.

"She complains," he clarified, before asking, "-Ya ever wonder why ya barely get put on runs? When everyone else is goin' in a cycle?"

"I..." you paused, mulling it over. When was the last time you were organically on a run? You'd arranged this one-

"Deanna don't put ya on 'em," Daryl explained, turning to you with some canned food in his hand, "-'cause she kno's Rick'll be useless. He'd be waitin' at the damn gate if he could."

You tried to speak, but he continued.

"He always asks someone ya were out wit' to keep an eye on ya. And 'en, when ya come back, asks 'at same person if ya got hurt at all. Scratches, cuts, if ya tripped probably-"

You didn't say a word.

"-I kno' 'cause I've been 'em," he clarified, and you were wordless.

You took a deep breath in, good god.

"So yea'," he answered finally, "-he's into ya."

And then, he moved forward and didn't say another word. He didn't really have to though.

You'd even watched this time, keeping an eye on Daryl and where he went after coming back from the run. And sure enough, Rick waltzed up to him like it was the most normal thing in the world. You imagined you knew the conversation.

Yeah okay, your mind chimed, he has a thing for me.

The thing was, he might've been hesitant but you sure as hell weren't going to be. You might warm him up a little bit though, maybe just for a little fun.

He was wearing a new shirt. Kind of weird for you to notice, but it was the apocalypse, everyone wore the same thing so often that it melded with them in your mind. You could still vividly picture what Rick looked like at the prison and sure, maybe that was for more reason than just that, but still.

You went a little on autopilot. Call it confirming what you already knew, basically. Or, at least, that's what you'd tell yourself.

Upon closer inspection, you noticed the collar of his (new) flannel was askew -just a little. Bingo.

You waltzed up to him and Deanna with no particular air of anything. Just normal, you wanted to see it for yourself really (the laundry thing was very telling, but you wanted to see the little things). Rick stuttered to a stop, words halting in his throat when you showed up, and your heart flipped in your chest. Stay focused.

"Hey, sorry," you apologized, genuinely (well, kind of), "-I just gotta-"

Carefully, you straightened out his collar.

You felt his eyes on you the whole time (just staring), it made your heartbeat pick up a little bit but, luckily, he couldn't quite see that.

"-There," you cheered, just a tiny one, and you saw a dopey sort of smile spread across his lips (it made you feel warm down to your toes).

You pat his chest once, feeling his body heat thrum against your hand -eyes connecting to his, "Like the new shirt, by the way."

He looked at you in a way that somehow seemed familiar but you'd never really noticed. You'd been noticing a lot more recently, to be fair.

With one last apology (eyes dashing to Deanna, who in retrospect looked a little annoyed), you politely made your exit.

Finding anywhere to go, you spotted Maggie -who was already looking at you.

Shit.

She approached you before you could go anywhere else, and you readied yourself for the onslaught.

"What was that?" she asked, carefully.

You resumed your step, maybe with a little too much pep, "His collar was messed up. I fixed it."

"No, no," she followed your lead, perfectly in time, "-you... you're doin' somethin', what are you doin'?"

"I'm not," you answered -plainly.

Maggie, frankly, didn't believe you (obviously).

You weren't sure what you were waiting for, maybe for him to realize? You knew you could've just told him yourself, and you really were going to... but every time you tried to walk up to him, your throat just clogged up. He would look at you that way (all dopey and sweet and affectionate) and you just-

God, you were useless.

It was late, way too late for you to be up (you should clarify), but you just couldn't sleep. You weren't entirely sure what it was, but at the same time, you knew exactly what it was.

Every day that you didn't tell him was another day wasted. It was the apocalypse. Every day was numbered, and you could be gone at any moment and there was no time to waste. But, you tried and tried and tried. It just wouldn't come out. You weren't sure why.

You groaned, pulling your pillow over your face for a moment. You had things to do tomorrow, couldn't you just have this crisis later-

And then, there was a knock.

Pausing, you waited a moment just to see if it was even real.

Knock.

It was a strong one too, maybe a little desperate, and fear shot through your spine. Before you could think too hard, you scrambled out of your bed -the chill of the night seeping into your skin. Your mind was in one lane, survival. Someone was probably hurt, something was happening-

With shaky hands, you pulled open your door, words on the edge of your tongue-

"Rick?"

He was standing at your door, hair mussed and in his pajamas (still the low-hanging plaid pants, you noted). You let yourself look at him a moment, taking in the domestic view of Rick you'd only seen once before. Seeing him like this almost made you forget your worry, but it still struck a cord in your chest.

You frantically searched over him (looking for wounds or blood), "Shit, are you alright? Did you g-"

"I'm okay, I'm okay-" he moved his hands to your shoulders, and your mouth snapped shut, "-Everythin's fine, darlin', relax."

"God," you let out a breath, centering yourself, "-you scared the shit out of me."

Rick smiled at you a certain type of way then, sleepy and still with that little glint, and let out a low sort of chuckle. Hair all mussed and eyes half closed, it might've been the cutest thing you'd ever seen.

"Sorry," he smiled at you, something twinkling in his eye, "-didn't mean to scare ya."

You waved it off, before falling a little more serious, "If there's nothing wrong, why are you here, Rick?"

He seemed to take a pause. Eyes flickering all over you, a bit in reverence. It made you either what to throw up or faint, you weren't totally sure which one.

"Are you-" you spoke, carefully, "-Are you emotionally okay? Do you need me to-"

"I need ya."

You faltered, barely digesting, "Need me to what? Whatever-"

"No," he clarified, something in his eyes, "-I just need ya."

"What?" you asked -half awake, and unsure if he was saying what you thought he was.

"Y/N," he started, eyeing your now connected hands, "-I want... Shit, I need ya wit' me."

"Rick," you spoke, softly, "-what are you talking about?"

"I'm tired of not bein' wit' ya-" he spoke, like it took everything in his body to say it -a little like he was pleading with you.

It felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs, and your heart was coughing up your throat. You felt totally and completely numb, all you could do was look at him.

He continued, eyes turning to match yours and grabbing your hands, "-I'm tired of missin' ya like a limb when you're standin' two feet away, I'm tired of always wishin' ya were closer, I'm tired of not tellin' ya 'at I think you are everythin' to me, I'm... I'm tired of it."

"Rick," your eyes were getting foggy.

"Darlin', I-" he let out a long breath, "-I can't do it anymore. I feel like I can't breathe without ya near me-"

"Rick."

"-Ya gotta understand 'at I-" he looked down (a little like the words were stuck in his throat), "-I... I can't function without ya. 'S like you're a piece of me 'at's just constantly missin' and it don't 'ave to be."

"Rick," you tried again.

"Y/N, I've-" he stuttered a second just looking at you, "-I've never felt 'is way 'bout anybody. An' I don't... I'm not even sure what to do 'bout it- I can't even think straight when you're gone, it... it stops everythin'-"

"Rick," you repeated, but there wasn't a lot of will behind it.

"Because 'ow am I supposed to be me without ya?"

You swallowed, heavily, eyes flickering all over him -maybe a little in reverence too. It felt like this was all a dream, and maybe this was exactly what you wanted him to say. Only one thought was rattling through your head, and you couldn't shake it, you're not sure you wanted to-

You spoke, breathless and maybe a little teary, "Rick, I love you."

Rick smiled at you so brightly that your knees felt a little weak, and your heart stuttered in your chest. God-

"You-" you laughed a little then, hands coming up to brush along his face (touching what you had longed to for so long)"-you're unbelievable. I couldn't even wrap my head around the thought that you could be into me-"

He just watched you, something shiny in his eyes (you couldn't tell if it was feelings or tears).

"-God you should've seen me. I asked like everyone in Alexandria," he laughed a little, and you gleamed, "-And... And I found out about so much that you've done for me. And you took a day off to do laundry with me-"

He laughed again, "Guess 'at made it pretty obvious, huh?"

"That, and-" you smiled at him, pushing some of his curls back out of his face, "-caring for me in the prison-"

He pursed his lips at that, maybe expecting you to never know. It didn't seem like he could stop looking at you though.

"-and you know what, not being able to focus when I'm gone on runs is pretty incriminating-"

He leveled the same look, and you could see his ears go pink. Cute.

"-or maybe," you continued, looking at him in a way that you hoped he understood (you were desperate for him to), "-when you dropped an obviously important conversation because I had a headache."

He just smiled at you, all dopey and affectionate. It made warmth bloom through your chest. Love, love, love-

"If it ain't obvious," he started, just staring, "-I love ya too. More than what I kno' what to do wit'."

You grinned at him, teasing, "Really? 'Couldn't tell."

He rolled his eyes at you, but was smiling so bright you couldn't take it seriously, "Ya gonna be like 'is now?"

"Oh, yeah," you answered, "-now I know just what you've done for me, and for how long. You're toast."

"Ya act like 'at's all I 'ave done," he countered, maybe smirking a little.

"It's not?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"No," he laughed, "-I was desperate for ya. For a long time. I did a lot to just be by your side, not countin' what I did for ya."

"Well," you smiled, moving your hands to curl into his hair, "-you'll just have to tell me sometime."

"Maybe," he hummed at the motion, and grinned at you, "-but the list is only bound to get longer. Might take forever."

"You know what, Grimes," you laughed, but you were genuinely, "-I think I can do forever."

"Me too," he grinned even brighter, eyes dashing along your face, "-as long as it's with ya."

Yeah, you thought to yourself (and maybe kissed the life out of him), I can definitely do forever.

[whilomm]

EAS SYSTEM TEST FAQ:

"huh what"

theres a test of the emergency alert system (EAS) for the united states on wednesday oct 4th 2023, 2:20 pm est (with a second test planned on the 11th if this ones canceled). its the system they use for amber alerts, weather alerts (like tornados/floods/hurricanes), stuff like that. will be sent to TVs, radios, phones, even if alerts are muted as far as i know

"what why"

bc they gotta test emergency systems sometimes. this happens on occasion.

"what is the government planning this is suspicious"

no its not its just. a standard test. they happen. we just havent had this specific type of phone one for a few years, they dont gotta test it as often as like. physical tornado sirens.

"okay but like are they trying to instill terror this reminds me of the terrorism threat leve-"

if they were doing that they wouldnt have been warning people of the upcoming test several months in advance

"why havent i seen it anywhere except for tumblr"

bc u havent like. paid attention to news stuff.

"okay well how do i verify this how do i know this isnt a hoax????"

....search for the news articles pictured above and read them.

"okay but WHY this is ANNOYING why is it in the MIDDLE OF SCHOOL/WORK"

bc systems gotta be tested on occasion to make sure they aint broken when you actually need them, and probs the time with the least risk of waking ppl up and making ppl even more angry

"i completely understand the purpose and i dont think its a government conspiracy but i still dislike it bc loud sounds/secret phone/epilepsy/whatever other reasons ive seen ppl site"

yeah 100% fair, thats why i and others are trying to warn so that ppl arent caught off guard (even if my warning was missing info like the time bc im dumb), i set a couple of notifs to pop up beforehand so i dont forget and get surprised, do what u gotta do to keep urself chill. shut off your phone, wrap it in blankets, be in another room from all ur tech while the test is happening, wear earplugs, etc. hope you're good!

"that thing about phones still going off when turned back on..."

oh yeah idk if thats true or nah. but eh, better safe than sorry, assume ur phone may or may not still be loud when u turn it back on, and plan for it if needed. idk where ppl are getting this tho and havent seen it verified myself. just be careful if this applies to you. maybe shove it into a blanket before turning it back on.

"is it gonna activate my covid vaccine mind control nanotech"

idk man probably not

"YAAAAAY EXTREMELY LOUD SOUND WEDNESDAY!!!!"

omgg yayyy!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰

[kabartangsel]

Cek Fakta: [SALAH] “KERA-KERA TURUN KE DAERAH DAGO ATAU LEMBANG”

Cek Fakta: [SALAH] “KERA-KERA TURUN KE DAERAH DAGO ATAU LEMBANG”

Hasil periksa fakta Yudho Ardi Informasi yang salah, faktanya kejadian penyerbuan kawanan monyet itu terjadi di pemukiman warga Sungai Sipal martapura, Kalimantan Selatan. ===== [KATEGORI] KONTEN YANG MENYESATKAN ===== [SUMBER] Twitter https://archive.cob.web.id/archive/1670492917.09568/singlefile.html ===== [NARASI] Hari ini monyet2 pada turun dan masuk perumahan dago, cikutra, antapani, mungkin…

[creature-wizard]

Scams, Hoaxes, Conspiracy Theories, & Cults Everyone Should Know About

Jilly Juice: Jillian Mai Thi Epperly claimed drinking sixteen cups of her super salty cabbage concoction each day could regrow missing limbs and cure everything from cancer to homosexuality. In reality, overdosing on so much salt caused followers a host of health issues that Epperley dismissed as "healing symptoms."

Nonhuman Body Hoax: Jaime Maussan attempted to pass off mummified human remains as nonhuman beings to the Mexican government. (This isn't even Maussan's first hoax, by the way. He has a history.)

Love Has Won: Amy Carlson, a woman who'd walked out on her own children, started a New Age cult in which she presented herself as "Mother God," the creator of the universe. She claimed to be in contact with dead celebrities and alien beings, and taught a conspiratorial worldview. As her health declined, she attempted to treat herself with colloidal silver and alcohol, and her behavior became increasingly abusive. When she finally died, her followers sincerely believed she would return to life and kept her body in a sleeping bag. (She did not return to life.)

Seed Faith Offerings: Reverend Gene Ewing came up with the perfect get-rich-quick scheme to prey on desperate Christian believers: tell believers that if they "sowed seed" by giving money to him, God would bless them with even more money in the future. He made millions of dollars from these donations, while most of his followers never saw the miraculous returns they were promised.

William Walker Atkinson: In the early 20th century, William Walker Atkinson wrote around one hundred books, many of which he wrote under various pseudonyms. Some of these pseudonyms included alleged Hindu mystics. That's right - this guy was practicing literary brownface to sell his mystical ideas.

The LDS Church: In the 19th century, a man named Joseph Smith claimed that an angel had told him where to dig up a set of golden plates that were supposedly written by ancient Hebrews who'd come to North America. Smith even had eleven close associates who vouched for the plates' existence. Yet the script they were allegedly written in bore no relation to actual ancient scripts of the Near East, and the the names the locations in the books he "translated" were very obviously derived from placenames he would have been familiar with. (For example, Oneida/Onidah.) Oh, and actual archaeology and DNA studies have discredited pretty much everything from this guy's weird racist narrative.

Fake Cancer, Fake Cure: Wellness entrepreneur Belle Gibson claimed that she'd cured her brain cancer with natural remedies. Gibson never actually had cancer in the first place.

Medbeds: Back in 2020, QAnons and QAnon-adjacent people started circulating claims that a new form of healing technology was about to become available to the public within the next several months or so. Depending on who you asked, Donald Trump, Elon Musk, and even the Galactic Federation of Light were involved. The time of their supposed unveiling came and went, and what do you know, there are still no functioning medbeds used in actual medicine.

COVID Vaccine Zombies: Conspiracy theorists have been claiming the government practices high-tech mind control for ages now. One recent iteration of this is a conspiracy theory claiming that people who'd received COVID vaccinations would have malicious DNA code activated by 5G on October 4, 2023, turn into zombies, and riot. The time came and went, and no zombie outbreak happened.

Ms.Scribe: In the early 2000s, a Harry Potter fan known as "msscribe" or "Ms.Scribe" faked her own harassment through a number of sockpuppets, with the apparent goal of becoming friends with some Harry Potter fandom bigwigs. She manipulated the fandom for a few years until the deception was finally uncovered.

[pitviperofdoom]

High School Time Travelers, Part 2

It's finally here! Follow up to this story.

***

“So. Spill. What the fuck is going on with you and Angelique?”

Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, and something within Erin roared out in protest at that. They were in her room, surrounded by her clutter and band posters and the stuff he kept at her house to keep his mom from throwing it away. He wasn’t supposed to be uncomfortable here.

Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I time-traveled last night.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” he said wearily. “I woke up in a house I haven’t set foot in for years, across the hall from someone I promised myself I’d never talk to again. It happened, and if you’re stuck on that part then this conversation can’t continue.”

Erin got up and paced her room, kicking aside her backpack, nearly knocking over the guitar stand in the corner. “What the fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What the fuck, Raph.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

The absurdity hit her instantly—he didn’t mean to time travel, as if they were talking about him forgetting his homework or getting in Monica Dillon’s way during passing period. She wanted to laugh.

But then she remembered some of the weird things Angelique had said—about friendships imploding, about college, about shit not mattering in high school, all with the easy certainty of experience.

“Prove it,” she said. “Can you do that thing where you predict what I’m about to say?”

“I’m not stuck in a time loop, dumbass, yesterday I was thirty-three!” Raph snapped. “I had to go through math class trying to pretend I still remembered my teacher’s name!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Erin held up her hands placatingly. “There’s gotta be something.”

Raph sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I dunno. Anything meaningful and unchangeable I can remember won’t happen for a while, so if you’re willing to wait for the Trump presidency or the global pandemic, there’s that.”

“The what.”

“Wait, who’s president right now? It’s still Bush, right?”

Erin pulled a face.

“Next one’s Barack Obama, he’s gonna do two terms,” Raph informed her. “First black president.”

“Oh, huh. Cool,” Erin said faintly.

“Let’s see, what else, um… Balloon Boy? Has Balloon Boy happened yet?”

“No, what the fuck is Balloon Boy?”

Raph brightened. “Yeah, so at some point this family is gonna release like, a homemade weather balloon? Or something? And there’s gonna be this huge panic because they think their son is stuck inside it, but then it turns out he was fine and hiding in the basement the whole time and it was a hoax.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for that I guess?” Erin sat down again. “You’re seriously not fucking with me right now?”

“I mean, if you want, we could forget this conversation ever happened,” Raph offered. “Continue with our normal lives, while I keep under-reacting to devastating world events.”

“Christ, I don’t know.” Erin pressed her palms into her eyes. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Wait a minute, we’re getting off track. What does this have to do with Angelique?”

Raph’s silence could not have been louder.

“Raph,” Erin said, a little desperately.

“First you have to promise you won’t be mad,” said Raph.

“Did you sleep with her in the—” Erin paused to do some arithmetic in her head. “—eighteen years between then and now?!”

“She’s my wife,” Raph blurted out.

Moments later, Erin’s mother knocked politely on the bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of screaming for a Tuesday night.”

Erin continued howling into her pillow. “She’s fine, Mrs. Yokota!” Raph called. “We’re looking at—uh—creepypastas!”

“Creepy what?”

“Uh—crap, are they still called that?—like, ghost stories and stuff!”

Placated, she left them to it. Eventually Erin recovered enough to lie back and stare listlessly at the ceiling.

“Dude.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck is your life?” Erin demanded. “How did that even happen?”

“We ran into each other at—so my friend Hazel got roped into being in their college roommate’s bridal party and dragged me along for moral support, and Angelique was in the same friend group but with like six degrees of separation from us,” Raph explained. “It took half the reception for her to recognize me because at that point I’d been on T for a few years, but the second she realized we went to the same high school she turned fishbelly-white, pulled me aside, and apologized for how much of a bitch she was back then. It was really awkward.”

Back then, he called it, even though for Erin it was still right now. “And you married her?”

“Like eight years later, yeah.” Raph ran his hand through his hair, not quite hiding the small smile that stole over his face. “She really turned over a new leaf.”

Erin was silent for a while, mulling over this new information, combining it with what she already had from that afternoon.

“Is your name still Raphael?” she asked. “She sounded really surprised about it. And I know you said you were just taking the name on a trial run, but you really seemed to like it. Not that there’s—you know,” she added. “I know that—just because I picked it, I knew you might not… you know. It’s fine, I was just wondering. If I should call you something else.”

“I did—I do like it,” Raph assured her. “But, uh, some stuff happened. My dad found me.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wait, really? What’d he have to say for himself?”

“That Mom ghosted him when she got pregnant because her side guy had more money.”

“Dude, fuck your mom.”

“Don’t fuck my mom, she’ll ghost you for money, weren’t you listening?”

Erin burst out snickering. “Fuck, sorry, this isn’t funny.”

“It will be in eighteen years,” Raph said with a wry smile. “Hindsight. Anyway, he found me in—he’s gonna find me in two years unless I reach out first. He’s a good guy. My stepmom’s pretty cool, too. And I have sisters? So that’s awesome. And yeah, he had this friend who passed away when he was younger, and he always wanted to name his son after him, but then Mom disappeared and he only ended up having daughters, so when he found me, it kind of worked out.” He hesitated. “I’m Damian. Damian Raphael Harker.”

“That’s such a cool name,” Erin sighed.

Raph—Damian—tilted his head back to grin at her. “Yours is cool, too.”

“Shut up,” she said fondly.

“No, seriously,” he said emphatically. “Your name is unspeakably cool.”

There was something odd in his tone, sticking up and catching like a loose nail. It bothered her, the same way something Angelique said earlier had bothered her.

“Hey, Ra—Damian?” Erin said cautiously. “Earlier, when Angelique sat down with us, she didn’t recognize me.”

“She does, don’t worry.”

“No, she didn’t,” Erin pressed. “It took her a second to realize who I was, and she stopped herself from saying why.”

Suddenly Damian looked deeply uncomfortable. “I, uh.”

She took a deep breath. “Was I dead in your time?”

“Wh-no! No no no no, of course not!” Damian looked horrified. “We played Pathfinder like last week, you’re not dead.”

“What’s Path—no, never mind. Something’s clearly up. If we just played whatever-that-is last week, and Angelique is your wife, then why didn’t she know who I was?”

“Uh…” Damian’s hands had worked their way deep into his sleeves. “You look different, that’s all. You kind of reinvented yourself in college.”

“Oh,” Erin said, momentarily relieved. Then— “Wait.”

“What?’

“Damian. You’d—” She hesitated. “If I was a guy, you’d tell me, right?’

“Oh my God,” Damian mumbled into his be-sweatered hands.

“Damian.”

“You’re... not...”

“You’d tell me, right?”

“See, I don’t know if I would!” Damian answered, in a strained high-pitched tone. “That’s—look. If you were a guy, that’s something you’d have to work out for yourself!”

“Damian, I swear to God.”

“I can’t crack your egg for you, that’s like violating the Prime Directive!”

Erin seized a pillow and started to buffet him with it. “You are such a nerd!”

“It’s your personal journey, you can’t use me to cheat!” Damian cackled, fending her off with a plush horse.

***

“Yeah I’ll get the banana split.” Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes raking over the array of toppings. “Can you put caramel and chocolate sauce on it? And Heath bar pieces, chopped strawberries, and M&Ms.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

It took all of her self-control not to press her nose against the glass as she watched them make it. Some small part of her balked at the sight of three huge scoops of ice cream and all the toppings, but she quieted it. She had a second shot at being a teenager, and that meant never taking her garbage disposal stomach and body made of rubber bands for granted ever again.

She hummed absently to herself, only to pause halfway through the tune. How did it go again? She tried repeating the first half, only to get stuck at the same spot. Oh, this was going to bug the crap out of her. It wasn’t like she could look it up, not when the song wouldn’t come out for almost ten years—

Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she checked it absentmindedly, zeroing in for a moment on the DAD displayed on the screen. After a moment, she put it back without answering. If it was that important, he could text.

Sure enough, her phone gave a short buzz. New text message—he hadn’t even bothered to leave a voicemail.

DADI need you to talk to your brother.

Angie checked her banana split’s progress with a glance, and replied.

lol why

DADHe’s not listening to me. We both know the courts favor the mother so if we’re going to beat her I need both of you on your A game.

Angie ground her teeth until her jaw creaked.

what do you need me to do

DADJust coach him on how to talk about her. You’re a smart lady, I know you can do it. He’s always getting scuffed up at practice, just have him say the bruises came from her. Throw in a drinking problem if you have to, just keep your stories straight.

why father dearest i’m surprised at youyou want me to lie under oath?

DADJust talk to him, will you? Keep your stories straight, don’t get too outlandish, and we’ll get out of this with everything we want. You’ll never have to hear the word no again, I promise.

ok daddy ill do my best!

DADGood girl. You’re the smartest girl I know. Smarter than your mom, smarter than her bitch lawyer. Love you!

“Order up!”

Angie brought her banana split to the table with the clearest view of the door. It took her a moment to decide how to begin, then nearly a full minute balancing equal parts ice cream, banana, and toppings in a single spoonful. She managed it in the end.

Mood lifted, she unlocked her phone again and made a call. “Heeeey, Anika.”

“Need I remind you that phone calls are billable,” her mother’s lawyer said dryly.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I have some incriminating text messages I think you’ll be interested in?”

The sound of rustling papers paused. “Go on…?”

“Dad just told me to lie to the judge,” Angie explained, twirling a thin ribbon of caramel around her spoon. “And to coach Eric to lie to the judge. I took screenshots.”

Anika cursed softly under her breath. “Thank you for telling me. Send them to your mom, okay? Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingled, and Angie perked up as both Damian (Raph?) and Erin walked in. She waved them over, grinning when both pairs of eyes widened at her treat.

“That thing’s half the size of your head,” Erin pointed out.

“Sure is, you guys came just in time.” Angie nudged it across the table, along with the two extra spoons. “If we split it, I’ll have enough room for a milkshake chaser.”

“You’re a monster,” Damian said delightedly. “Oh shit, are those Heath bars?” He dug in without waiting for an answer.

“They’re peanut butter cups,” she said solemnly, once he’d taken a bite and could probably tell they weren’t. “I added them just to hurt you.” Damian rolled his eyes and dug his spoon back in.

Erin stared at her, probably still baffled by the gentle banter, but at least she looked more curious than infuriated, like instead of being suspicious she simply didn’t know what to make of Angie.

“So, you guys talked?” Angie asked carefully. “Are we… all good?”

“I think so,” Damian replied, shooting a cautious glance at Erin.

“You’re on thin ice,” Erin informed her as she helped herself to the chocolate scoop.

“Fair.” Angie didn’t remember Erin putting up quite as much of a fight, but then, it had been years when they’d reconnected before. This time around, it was still fresh.

“The ice cream helps,” Erin added, slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth.

“Noted.” Angie paused, weighed her options, and shrugged. No harm no foul, probably. “Hey, you’re a musician, right?”

Erin swallowed. “Yeah, why?”

“And not just a performer, but you write music too, right?”

“Yeeaaah?” Erin squinted suspiciously. Beside her, Damian shot Angie a warning glare.

“If I give you half a tune, could you resolve it?”

Erin was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Probably.”

“Great!” Angie hummed the earworm from earlier. “How would the next part go?”

Erin repeated it to herself, nodding along. After a moment, she said, “Probably like—”

And sure enough, there it was. The rest of the chorus’s tune came rushing back to Angie’s memory, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks! That was driving me nuts.” Angie returned to her banana split, ignoring Damian’s growing scowl.

Later, when Erin was in the bathroom and  Angelique was standing in line to order her promised milkshake, Damian dug his elbow into her side. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he muttered.

“What?” Angie said innocently. “I didn’t give anything away.”

“You just taught her half the chorus of a song she’s eight years away from writing!”

“I’ve planted a seed,” Angie insisted. “I’ve created a stable time loop.”

“That is not what you did and you know it.” Damian pursed his lips, clearly trying to stay annoyed with her. “I barely avoided spoiling her transition, and that’s after she asked me to my face.”

Angie grinned. “So you haven’t told her she’s a genderfluid punk rocker yet?”

“No. Because she’s not a genderfluid punk rocker yet.”

“And now, when she becomes one,” Angie said with a smile, “she’s going to look back on this day and laugh.”

[gurugirl]

Shy!Dom!Harry request just dropped on Patreon!

Thanks to the patron who requested!! xoxo

You kept up your normal daytime appearances. You were the bossy, mouthy, and outgoing girlfriend to everyone who knew you and he was the compliant, quiet, and shy boyfriend. No one had a clue. They all thought you were the one wearing the pants in the relationship. And you did in front of everyone. You told him what to do and often would order for him and talk over him if he did speak.

But he was the one in charge the moment you two were alone.

And you knew you were in for it that day. You’d gone out with some friends again for lunch and you sat on his lap with your back to him and yapped loudly to your friends about whatever. You ate his sandwich and then laughed when you realized he was still there, “Oh god! I almost forgot you were here, you’re so quiet, Harry! You’re like a piece of furniture!” Your girlfriends laughed with you.

You felt him pinch your thigh. And not a nice little teasing pinch. A bruising one that made you jump and you turned to look at him and there it was. That look. You bit your lip and turned back to your friends and continued being a bit of a brat. You knew he’d have something to say about you calling him a piece of furniture. You couldn’t wait to see what he might do.

And it should have come as no surprise to you that when you got to his house, he had you naked and gagged, on your hands and knees while he sat in his chair with his feet on your back like you were a fucking stool for his legs. Payback for the furniture comment.

Drool was falling from your mouth and pooling on his carpet as you tried to stay steady but the longer you stayed in your position the harder it became to not wobble, especially with the way he was shifting his legs around and crossing them over your back and shoulders.

“Pathetic,” he murmured when he saw the puddle of saliva on the floor, “But it sure is nice and quiet like this. Prefer it actually.”

. . .

If you'd like more and want to support my work, consider joining my Patreon! I post 3x per week with an average of 67k words every month! xoxo

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[strawberryjimin13]

VEIL OF DECEIT | KTHᝰ.ᐟ

— Synopsis: In the gloomy village of Briarfield, an annual ritual demands the sacrifice of an innocent girl to the devil. When Y/N is chosen as the next offering, she discovers the dark truth behind the tradition—a hoax engineered by the corrupted noblemen.

— Pairing: Merchant!Taehyung x Apprentice Healer!reader

— Genre: Fantasy, one-shot, angst, fluff, eventual smut

— Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), obsessive behaviour (not from tae), attempted sexual assault (not tae! None of the bad warnings are for him tbh), mentions of satanic rituals and sacrificing, stalker behaviour, misogyny, objectification of women, eventual smut, p in v, unprotected sex (this is like magical medieval times lol BUT BE SAFE), praise kink, orgasms (f/m), creampie(?), age gap (reader is 20, Tae is 26), creepy old man behaviour (💀)

— Word Count: 17.9k

— A/N: This is not the most polished work I’m aware. The story contains flaws but I had a dream (plot) and a word document 😭 also this was my first time writing smut, can you tell? Maybe I should have made Tae the evil one 🤔Once again feedback would be appreciated!

— English is not my first language so l apologise in advance for any mistakes or typos!

There once existed the kingdom named Aetherfall, the kingdom of light and splendour. Aetherfall was a kingdom unlike any other, a shining jewel set amidst towering mountains and rolling hills. The city, nestled in the heart of the kingdom, was a sight to behold—an architectural masterpiece where elegance met strength, and ancient magic wove through every stone and street. From afar, Aetherfall appeared like a golden crown atop the earth, its walls gleaming under the light of the sun, and at night, shimmering under the glow of thousands of lanterns.

The heart of the kingdom was its biggest city, Starhill labelled as the city of dreams that every person wanted to visit. Among the large kingdom laid a forgotten place at the outskirts. The village of Briarfield. It hardly harboured a population of a thousand people due to the village’s reputation.

The village of Briarfield was cursed. Or so the stories went, whispered from one frightened villager to the next, as the ever-present fog curled around their feet like ghostly tendrils. It wasn’t just the heavy mist that clung to the cracked, cobblestone streets, or the way the sun seemed to forsake the village, trapped behind thick clouds of grey. No, Briarfield bore the weight of far darker rumours: that its prosperity was built upon the blood of innocent girls, sacrificed each year to appease the devil that lurked beneath its shadowy veneer.

In the dim light of early evening, the village lay sprawled at the foot of the mountains, with its decrepit houses leaning together as if they were all that held each other up. Blackened thatched roofs and crooked chimneys poked into the gloom like skeletal fingers. The streets, winding like a serpent through the maze of wooden huts, were damp from the constant drizzle that hung in the air.

Few travellers came near it, deterred by tales of malevolent spirits and dark rituals. The villagers kept to themselves, huddled in their homes, wary of outsiders and of the secrets that their village held.

And in one of those homes, you dreamed of escape. The cottage was warm but filled with a sombre air. You sat at the table, absently tracing patterns in the worn cloth of the tablecloth. Your mother moved quietly around the kitchen; her movements automatic as she prepared the evening meal.

As the silence grew heavier, you spoke, your voice breaking the quiet. "Mother, why did you and Father never leave the village? I’ve dreamed of leaving for as long as I can remember. Why didn’t you ever want to go?"

Your mother paused, her back turned to you. The silence stretched, and you could almost feel the weight of her thoughts pressing against the walls of the small room. Finally, she turned, her face lined with the hardships of life but softened with a deep, weary kindness.

"We never left because we were bound by our own choices, my dear," she said softly, setting down the wooden spoon she had been stirring the pot with. She walked over and sat across from you, her hands clasped tightly together.

"When your father and I were young, we believed that Briarfield was where we were meant to be. It was our home, our family’s home, and leaving it felt like abandoning a part of ourselves. We thought the village’s darkness was something we could endure, something we could change."

She sighed; her gaze distant. "And in a way, we did change it. Not in grand ways, but in the small, everyday moments. We found happiness in the little things—in our garden, in the quiet of the evening, in the love we had for each other. We made our peace with the shadows because they were all we knew."

Her eyes met yours, filled with a sorrowful understanding. "I know it’s hard for you, wanting something more, wanting to escape.”

Your mother reached out and took your hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "I stayed because I wanted to protect you, to give you a chance to grow up with some semblance of normalcy, even if it was flawed.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you looked at her, seeing the reasoning behind her words. "Thank you, Mother," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "I hope I can make something good come of all this, for both of us."

“I know you will my child. You have always been strong-willed and hence these walls aren’t big enough to keep you in” you smiled at her words and leaned in for a hug. Nothing provided you more comfort than knowing your mother supported your dreams.

The first light of dawn pierced through the thick fog that hung over Briarfield, casting a faint, ghostly glow over the village. The streets were damp from the previous night's drizzle, and the air was crisp, tinged with the scent of wet earth and lingering smoke from the few fireplaces that had been lit.

You pulled on your heavy shawl, its wool rough but warm against the chill, and stepped out into the murky street. The village was just beginning to stir, the early risers emerging from their homes to tend to their chores. The cobblestones beneath your boots were slick, and you navigated them carefully, feeling the weight of the day’s errands pressing on your shoulders.

The first stop was the baker’s stall at the edge of the village square. The baker’s hut was modest but inviting, its windows fogged with the heat from the ovens inside. As you entered, the aroma of fresh bread and pastries enveloped you.

The baker, a burly man with flour-dusted hands and a jovial demeanour, greeted you with a nod. "Morning, lass. What can I get for you today?"

"Good morning," you replied, your voice muffled by the cold. "Just a loaf of bread and some of those cinnamon rolls, please."

The baker nodded and reached for a crusty loaf, its surface crackling with warmth, and a small bag of sweet rolls, their scent filling the air with a comforting sweetness. He handed them over with a smile, and you paid him with the coins you had saved up, tucking the bread into the fabric of your basket.

Next, you made your way to the seamstress’s shop, a quaint little building adorned with colourful patches and ribbons. The seamstress, an elderly woman with sharp eyes and nimble fingers, was busy at her workbench, mending a torn garment. The shop was a haven of vibrant fabrics and threads, a stark contrast to the drabness of the village outside.

You approached her and showed her a small tear in your favourite skirt. "Good morning. I need this repaired, if you could madam."

The seamstress took the skirt with practiced hands, examining the tear with a critical eye. "Of course, dear. I’ll have it done by the end of the day. You’ll need it looking nice for the ceremony."

You nodded, a pang of unease twisting in your stomach at the mention of the ceremony. "Thank you."

With your errands nearly complete, you headed to the village well to fetch water. The well was a central gathering place, surrounded by villagers who would often chat and exchange news as they filled their buckets. Today, however, the well was unusually quiet, the air heavy with the unspoken tension that seemed to follow the village.

As you prepared to lower the bucket into the well, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. You glanced up and felt a familiar pang of discomfort as you saw Lord Corwin striding towards you. Lord Corwin was a balding, pot-bellied man with sagging jowls and skin that seemed to droop with age, his watery eyes always lingering a moment too long on you. He was balding and an overall unpleasant in terms of looks and personality. His dark, richly embroidered clothing marked him clearly as the village noble.

A sigh escaped your lips as you braced yourself. The last time you had seen Lord Corwin, he had been insisting on a marriage proposal—one that you had firmly declined. He was a man of your father’s age, his advances both unsettling and persistent. Despite your clear rejection, he had never seemed to accept it, continuing to approach you with an unnerving determination. You weren’t even sure why he wanted you. Last you checked; you were a mere peasant compared to him.

You tried to steady your nerves as Lord Corwin came to a halt a few feet away. “Good evening, my lady,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with a hint of nervousness that felt oddly out of place given his authoritative stance.

“Evening, Lord Corwin,” you replied, forcing a polite smile. You focused on the well, determined to keep the conversation brief.

Lord Corwin took another step closer, his proximity making you increasingly uncomfortable. “May I assist you?” he offered, though his voice carried an undertone that felt intrusive rather than courteous.

“There’s no need, my lord,” you said firmly, avoiding his gaze as you continued to work. You lowered the bucket into the well, trying to ignore the weight of his gaze.

He reached out to help, his hand brushing against yours as he took the bucket. The touch was cold and lingering, sending a shiver down your spine. “Allow me,” he said, his smile widening slightly.

“Thank you, but I can manage,” you said, stepping back to maintain some distance. The conversation felt like a repetition of past encounters, and you were eager to end it.

Lord Corwin’s eyes remained fixed on you as he carried the bucket to the edge of the well. “You know,” he began, his tone shifting to something more personal, “I’ve been thinking about our previous conversation.”

You stiffened at the mention of the past. You had rejected his marriage proposal some time ago, a decision that had left a mark on both your lives. “Yes, my lord?” you said, trying to keep your voice neutral.

“I wanted to revisit that offer,” he continued, his tone growing more insistent. “Briarfield would be a much different place with you at my side. I’ve reconsidered the benefits of our union. Your knowledge on herbs and medicine could no doubt be used for something greater”

You felt a pang of discomfort at his persistence. “I appreciate your consideration, Lord Corwin,” you said, forcing a polite smile, “but my decision remains the same. I have no desire to marry. I am also still just an apprentice of my mother. I have not yet mastered the art of medicine yet.”

Lord Corwin’s smile faltered slightly, a murderous look flashed in his eyes, but he quickly masked his disappointment with a practiced expression. “I see. Well, I hope you will reconsider in the future,” he said, his tone now slightly colder. “Briarfield could be quite different with someone of your qualities….and your beauty”.  On the inside Lord Corwin felt frustrated. He had kindly asked for you hand and yet a little peasant rejected him. That was outrageous! You were a woman who needed to know her place. He thought about how he would break you and meld you into a perfect doll once he gets his hands on you.

You nodded, eager to end the conversation. “Thank you for understanding, my lord. I must return to my duties now.”

As you gathered your things and began to walk away, you felt Lord Corwin’s gaze lingering on your back. The encounter with Lord Corwin had left a bitter taste in your mouth and so you went to sleep that night hoping tomorrow would be better.

You were once again back in the market which was surprisingly bustling with people which as quite rare as people of Briarfield preferred staying indoors. As you strolled through the market stalls, your basket swinging from your arm as you selected fruits and vegetables and some new herbs you could use in making remedies. The vibrant colours of apples, carrots, and cabbages were a welcome contrast. You carefully picked out the ripest fruits and the freshest vegetables, exchanging brief pleasantries with the vendors.

As you turned a corner, you spotted a new stall set up in the market square. It was different from the others; it was not just a simple arrangement of crates and baskets but rather a carefully designed display that seemed to combine artistry with commerce. A large, hand-painted sign that read “Exotic Produce” hung above the stall, the intricate calligraphy catching the light although the words were simple and straightforward. Colourful fabrics draped over the sides of the stall, creating a vibrant backdrop for an array of unusual fruits and vegetables, most of which you had never seen before.

Exotic, brightly coloured fruits from distant lands—deep purple dragon fruit, star-shaped carambolas, and rich golden mangoes—were stacked beside more familiar produce, like apples and cabbages. Interspersed among the fruits were small pots of herbs, their fresh, earthy scent mingling with the sweet fragrance of the fruits. The herbs weren’t just your usual mint or basil but rare varieties with names you couldn’t even pronounce. Hanging from the wooden beams of the stall were clusters of dried flowers and spices, their deep hues and rich aromas filling the air with an almost magical quality.

You stepped closer, drawn in by the sheer variety of it all. Your eyes drifted over the shelves lined with jars of preserves—fig jam, spiced pears, and candied ginger—as well as small wooden boxes containing spices, teas, and even peculiar, dried fruits that looked almost like they belonged in a fairytale.

Behind the counter stood a young man, who, much like his stall, seemed out of place in Briarfield—in the best way possible. His dark hair fell loosely around his face, and his eyes sparkled with an energy that made him seem more alive than anyone else around. He wore a finely embroidered vest over a linen shirt, with intricate patterns that looked hand-sewn, and a soft leather belt hung around his waist, from which dangled small pouches and trinkets.

He noticed you approaching and greeted you with a warm, almost mischievous smile. “Good morning!” he called, his voice light and welcoming. “Welcome to my little corner of the world. I’m Taehyung. What catches your fancy today?”

You smiled back, intrigued by both him and his wares. “Good morning, Taehyung,” you replied. “Your stall is... quite different from the others. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this in Briarfield.”

Taehyung chuckled, a soft, melodic sound. “That’s the idea,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’ve travelled far and wide, and I like to bring a bit of everything with me—things that can’t be found in just any ordinary village. I believe even the smallest places deserve a little magic.”

He gestured to a tray of fruit that you couldn’t name. “This, for instance, is a cherimoya—some call it the ‘custard apple.’ It’s sweet and creamy, almost like a dream in fruit form.” He pointed to another pile of peculiar, knobby-looking roots. “And these are galangal. They’re used in soups and teas in faraway lands. Perfect for chilly Briarfield evenings.”

You picked up a starfruit, running your fingers along its ridges. “It’s beautiful,” you said, marvelling at the variety of colours and shapes on display.

Taehyung’s smile softened, his tone becoming more sincere. “Thank you. I wanted to bring something new, something that could brighten up this village a little. Briarfield deserves more than just the tales it’s known for.”

You nodded, appreciating the warmth and care he put into his work. “It’s nice to have something so fresh and different here. Everything else feels so... old.”

“Exactly,” Taehyung said, leaning on the counter with an easy grace. “I’ve always believed that even in the most forgotten corners of the world, there should be beauty and wonder. That’s why I’m here.”

You selected a few pieces of fruit and a small jar of honey that had caught your eye. “I’ll take these, please,” you said, placing them on the counter.

Taehyung packed them up carefully, his movements swift and practiced. “A fine choice,” he said, handing you the package with a smile. “And if you ever need something special—whether it’s some fruit, a spice, or even a little conversation—you know where to find me.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, as if for the first time in a long while, Briarfield held something brighter than its usual shadows. “Thank you, Taehyung. I’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

As you walked away, your basket filled with exotic fruits and herbs, you couldn’t help but feel giddy by short encounter with the young man. Taehyung being kind, warm, and full of life—was a welcome change. You found yourself looking forward to the next time you would meet him.

The next morning you woke up to the unsettling news of a young girl gone missing and as result your father forbad you from leaving the house fearing for your safety. However, spending almost a week cooped up in your room had left you suffocated and so you finally convinced your father that everything will be okay and to let you out. Although he was reluctant, he gave in not wanting to see his daughter pout any further and so you happily made your way outside.

Today, the sky was overcast, threatening rain, as you made your way through the village. You’d just left the bakery, a loaf of sweet bread tucked under your arm, oh how you missed the sweet delight! Just then you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

“Good morning!”

You looked up to see Taehyung approaching, his smile as warm as ever despite the grey skies above. He was carrying a large wooden crate filled with a variety of fruits, herbs, and small glass jars. His appearance was a bit more dishevelled today—his sleeves rolled up, a few strands of hair falling into his eyes—but there was a certain charm to his slightly tousled look.

“Taehyung,” you greeted, surprised but happy to see him. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you.”

“Likewise, I haven’t seen you since that day.” he replied, adjusting the crate in his arms as he stopped in front of you. “It seems fate is playing matchmaker today. How have you been?”

You smiled at his easy-going manner, feeling the tension of the day start to slip away. “I’ve been well, thank you. The recent disappearance of the girl in the village put my father on edge so I was cooped up in my house for some time.” You say laughing a little.

He glanced up at the darkening sky, a hint of concern in his eyes. “Ah that’s a reasonable reaction. Hope everything turns out okay it also looks like we’ll be getting quite the storm soon. I was on my way to the market, but it seems I might be racing the rain.”

You both shared a small laugh, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable his presence made you feel, even in the midst of the growing chill around you. Taehyung’s energy had a way of lighting up even the dullest days.

“Here,” he said, shifting the crate to one arm. “I brought something for you.”

“For me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

He nodded, carefully balancing the crate as he reached into one of his pouches and pulled out a very small, intricately carved wooden box. The box was stained a deep, rich brown and etched with swirling patterns that reminded you of the stories you’d heard about enchanted forests and ancient lands. Taehyung handed it to you with a playful smile.

“I found this the other day when I was unpacking some of my wares,” he explained. “It’s a blend of tea leaves and spices from the far south. I thought you might enjoy it. A little warmth to brighten up Briarfield’s rainy days.”

You took the box, feeling its smooth surface under your fingers, and opened it. Inside were delicate, dried leaves with an array of colours—deep reds, golden yellows, and dark greens—mingled with tiny bits of cinnamon bark and star anise. The smell that wafted from the box was comforting, a warm mix of spice and earth. Some of these would make a good herbal tea cure, you thought to yourself.

“Thank you, Taehyung. I’m not sure how to repay you for this.” you said softly, genuinely touched by his thoughtfulness.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Consider this as a gift from a friend” he says, face plastered with a boxy smile. “This is lovely. I’ll be sure to try it tonight.” You say excitedly.

He smiled, pleased by your reaction. “I’m glad you like it. If you need instructions on how to brew it, just let me know. It’s a bit different from the usual tea.”

You nodded, slipping the small box into your basket. “I’ll keep that in mind. Maybe I’ll come by the stall tomorrow if I run into any trouble.”

Taehyung’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’m always happy to help. Besides, I’m curious to hear what you think of it. I personally quite enjoy its flavours.”

Before you could respond, a sudden gust of wind blew through the village square, and you instinctively pulled your cloak tighter around yourself. Taehyung’s hair was blown back, but he simply laughed at the sudden chill.

“I think that’s our cue to take shelter,” he said, glancing back at the sky. “Would you like to walk back together? I can help carry your things.”

You hesitated for a moment, then smiled and handed him your bread to lighten your load. “I’d appreciate that.”

Together, you made your way back through the village, you made a short stop at Taehyung’s house as he left his crate inside and then moving at a brisk pace to beat the rain towards your own cottage. Taehyung talked easily as you walked, telling you stories of his travels and the different markets he had visited in faraway cities. He had a way of making the world seem larger and more exciting than it had ever felt before, filling your mind with the fantasies of adventure beyond the village’s borders.

By the time you reached your cottage, the first few drops of rain had begun to fall, but you were safely inside before the storm truly hit. Taehyung lingered at the door for a moment, his smile never wavering.

“Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy the tea,” he said, handing you the basket of you bread back. “But don’t forget to tell me how it turns out.”

“I won’t,” you promised. “Thank you again, Taehyung. It was nice running into you.”

“The pleasure was mine,” he replied, giving you a small bow before stepping back into the rain.

As you watched him walk away, disappearing into the misty streets of Briarfield, you couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of warmth in your chest.

You closed the door, the small wooden box of tea still in your hand and smiled to yourself. It seemed that with each encounter, Taehyung brought a little more joy into your life. Perhaps Briarfield wasn’t so gloomy after all.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of cold, calculating eyes watched from a distance as you and Taehyung exchanged smiles and laughter. Lord Corwin stood in the shadow of a nearby building, his gaunt face twisted into a scowl. His hand gripped the nearest wall tightly.

He had been on his way to visit your family, as he often did under the pretence of “checking in” on village matters. But as he saw you walk with that... that merchant, a slow, burning anger began to churn in his chest.

Corwin had noticed the way your eyes lit up when you talked to Taehyung, the way you smiled so easily at him, something you never did when he was near. It sickened him. How dare you, a girl of such modest means, reject his marriage proposal and then offer such warmth to a mere merchant—a man who was not even of noble blood?

The memory of your refusal still stung bitterly. He had been so sure you would accept his hand when he had asked for it nearly a year ago when turned of age. After all, what better offer could there be for a girl of your station than to marry a lord? He had thought he was doing you a favour by offering you a future above the one your humble lineage could ever provide. But instead, you had rejected him—politely, yes, but firmly.

And now... now you were entertaining this, Taehyung. Corwin sneered at the sight of him, with his polished charm and his ridiculous trinkets. What could he possibly offer you that a nobleman could not? A few exotic fruits? A handful of spices? Corwin couldn’t understand why you would favour someone so beneath him. He had the wealth, the power, the standing. Yet, it was this commoner who had caught your attention.

Corwin’s mind raced with jealousy as he watched Taehyung walks away into the rain, his cloak billowing behind him. His gaze then shifted back to you as you stood in the doorway of your cottage, a small smile playing on your lips as you lingered with the box of tea in hand.

His stomach twisted in disgust. That smile should have been for him—Lord Corwin, the one who had the means to truly take care of you. And yet, you had chosen to waste your time with a man who had nothing of worth to offer, a mere peasant in Corwin’s eyes.

As the rain began to fall harder, Corwin remained in the shadows, his mind simmering with dark thoughts. He would not allow this to continue. He had been patient, waiting for you to see sense and reconsider his proposal. But now, with this newcomer in the picture, he knew that his patience was wearing thin.

Corwin had power in Briarfield, influence that stretched far beyond what someone like Taehyung could comprehend. If he needed to remind you of your place and who truly held sway in this village, then so be it. He would not be so easily dismissed—not by you, not by anyone.

His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a sinister smile as he turned away from the scene. The rain pelted down on him, but he hardly noticed. His mind was already spinning with plans, ways to bend the village to his will, ways to ensure that you would come to see him not as a suitor, but as an inevitable force.

And if Taehyung got in the way... well, Lord Corwin had dealt with nuisances before. This time would be no different.

As he disappeared into the misty streets, the shadows of Briarfield seemed to wrap around him, as if conspiring with his every dark thought. You might not have seen him, but he had seen enough.

And he was not going to forget.

As the days turned into months, your interactions with Taehyung became a cherished part of your routine. Each visit to his stall, each shared conversation, subtly wove the threads of affection between you, creating a bond that neither of you had anticipated.

It began with the little things. Taehyung’s warm smile became a bright spot in your day, a beacon of light in the otherwise dim atmosphere of Briarfield. His thoughtful gestures—saving the ripest fruits, sharing new herbs he’d acquired, and always finding a moment to chat—made your visits to his stall something you eagerly anticipated.

One crisp autumn morning, as you stopped by to pick up some vegetables, Taehyung greeted you with an excited sparkle in his eye. “I’ve got something special today,” he said, pulling out a small basket filled with fragrant herbs and colourful root vegetables. “I thought you might like to try making a stew with these.”

You smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. “That’s very kind of you, Taehyung. I’ll definitely give it a try.”

Taehyung leaned against the wooden frame of his stall, his curiosity piqued. “You seem to know a lot about herbs yourself. Is it something your family taught you?”

You nodded as you examined the herbs, he handed you. “Yes, my mother is a skilled healer. She’s been teaching me since I was young. I’m learning how to mix tinctures and create salves to help with common ailments around the village.” You paused, twirling a sprig of thyme between your fingers. “It’s given me a sense of independence, something to focus on besides the daily grind of village life.”

His eyes softened as he listened. “That must be fulfilling, knowing that you’re helping people.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his gaze. “It is. Sometimes it’s exhausting, but it’s rewarding when someone comes to you in pain and leaves feeling better.” You glanced up at him and added, “And it also gives me a reason to spend time outside the house. Not many girls here get that luxury.”

Taehyung’s expression grew thoughtful. “It sounds like you’ve found a way to escape, even if it’s just for a moment,” he said. “I’ve seen how stifling it can be here, especially for women.”

You appreciated his understanding. “Exactly. The knowledge my mother has given me makes me feel… free, in a way. I get to explore the woods, gather plants, and create something valuable for others.” You smiled softly, holding up the herbs. “And it helps when someone like you brings something new to try.”

Taehyung’s grin widened, the warmth in his eyes reflecting the budding connection between you. “I’m glad I could add a bit of colour to your day. And who knows, maybe one day you’ll teach me a thing or two about healing.”

You chuckled, feeling a lightness in your chest. “I’d be happy to. Though I have a feeling you’ve got plenty of your own knowledge to share.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a more playful tone. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to keep trading lessons, won’t we?”

Your heart fluttered at the intimacy in his words, and as you both stood there, surrounded by the rich scents of herbs and the quiet bustle of the market, you realized that this was more than just a simple exchange. It was a promise of something deeper.

Soon, your visits to Taehyung's stall became more than just routine errands—they were moments of genuine connection. On this particularly rainy day, the market was quieter than usual. Taehyung, usually so full of energy, looked a bit worn out as he organized his stall. The rain had beaten down hard, and a small puddle was forming near the edge of his stand.

You approached his stall with a warm smile, noticing the concern on his face. “It looks like the rain has really taken a toll today,” you said, offering him a sympathetic glance.

Taehyung looked up and smiled, though his eyes showed the strain of the weather. “Yes, it’s been a tough day. The rain keeps people away. But I suppose it gives me a chance to get to know my favourite customer a bit better.”

You chuckled and stepped behind the stall to help him. “Well, I am glad to be of assistance. What can I do to help?”

“Could you pass me those cloths? I need to wipe down the counter before it gets any worse,” Taehyung said, pointing to a stack of cloths near the back of the stall.

As you worked side by side, you began chatting about lighter topics to lift the mood. “So, tell me more about your travels. You have mentioned a few places, but what was the most memorable?”

Taehyung’s eyes brightened as he started to talk. “Ah, there was this one time in a small village in the east. They had this festival where they floated lanterns on the river. The entire night was lit up with thousands of glowing lights, and the reflection in the water made it look like the stars had fallen.”

You smiled, imagining the scene. “That sounds beautiful. I cannot even imagine how magical it must have been.”

“It was,” Taehyung said, his voice taking on a wistful tone. “But what made it special was sharing it with people who had never seen anything like it before. They were so full of wonder.”

The conversation flowed easily, and the shared experience of tidying up amid the rain made you feel closer. You noticed Taehyung’s laughter was more frequent today, his usual upbeat demeanour peeking through the weariness.

“Do you ever get tired of all the traveling?” you asked, wiping the counter with a damp cloth.

He shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Not really. Each place has its own story, its own charm. But there are times, like now, when I’m glad to be in one spot, especially when I have someone to share it with.”

You felt a warm flush at his words, your own smile widening. “I’m glad you’re here, too. It is nice to have someone to talk to who understands.”

Taehyung’s eyes met yours with a tender look. “And I’m glad you’re here. Your stories about this village, they make me appreciate the little things more. Even a rainy day like today.”

The sound of the rain tapping against the stall created a soothing backdrop to your conversation. As you worked together, the storm outside seemed less imposing, and the bond between you grew stronger. Each shared moment, each laugh, and every serious conversation deepened your connection, making the quiet, rainy day a memorable chapter in your evolving relationship.

Winter arrived, and with it came the chill that seemed to seep into every corner of Briarfield. The cold was relentless, wrapping the village in a frosty embrace. One evening, as you walked home from the market, you noticed Taehyung trudging through the snow, his breath visible in small clouds against the icy air. He was bundled up in a thick coat, a scarf wrapped snugly around his neck.

"Hey, Y/N!" Taehyung called out, his face brightening as he spotted you. “You look like you have had a long day. How about a break from the cold? There is a new cafe nearby that opened up that serves the most amazing hot chocolate!”

The invitation caught you by surprise, but the idea of warming up in a cozy cafe was too tempting to pass up. You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. “I’d love to. Lead the way!”

The cafe was a small, charming place with warm, wooden interiors and a soft glow from the hanging lamps. The scent of freshly baked pastries and rich chocolate greeted you as you stepped inside, making you feel instantly at ease. You and Taehyung found a small table by the window, where the snow outside created a picturesque scene.

As you both settled in, Taehyung waved to the barista and ordered two cups of hot chocolate. When the steaming mugs arrived, you took a sip and sighed in relief. The drink was velvety and rich, the perfect antidote to the winter chill.

“This is incredible,” you said, savouring the warmth. “I’ve never had hot chocolate this good before.”

Taehyung smiled, his eyes reflecting a wistful light. “It is one of my favourites. It brings back memories of home.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Home? Where did you grow up?”

Taehyung’s gaze softened as he took a sip of his drink. “I grew up in a bustling city far from here. My mother used to make hot chocolate just like this. Every winter, we would sit together by the fire, sipping it and talking about our day. It was a small but comforting ritual.”

The warmth of the drink brought a mixture of fondness and sadness to his eyes. “What happened to your parents?” you asked gently, sensing the shift in his mood.

Taehyung’s smile faltered, and he looked down at his mug, his fingers tracing the rim. “It is a difficult memory. When I was young, there was a terrible accident. My parents were traveling to a distant town to sell their goods, and their carriage was caught in a snowstorm. They did not make it. I was left alone, and I had to fend for myself.”

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on his. “I am so sorry, Taehyung. That must have been incredibly hard.”

He nodded, a sad smile on his lips. “It was. But I learned to carry their memory with me. It’s why I treasure moments like these, where I can share stories and connect with others. It is a way to keep their spirit alive.”

Seeing the sadness in his eyes, you wanted to lift his spirits. You took a deep breath and began, “When I was a child, we had this wonderful tradition during winter. Every year, my mother would make a special batch of gingerbread cookies. We would spend an entire day decorating them with icing and candy, and then she’d tell me stories about the origins of each cookie shape—angels, stars, and hearts. Those stories always made me feel like I was part of something magical, even in the midst of the cold and darkness.”

Taehyung’s eyes brightened at the image. “That sounds so lovely. It must have been a beautiful tradition.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of the memory. “It was. It made the winters feel less harsh, and the stories always filled me with a sense of wonder. Sometimes, when I look back, I realize how those little moments shaped my view of the world.”

Taehyung’s expression softened into a genuine smile, his eyes twinkling. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It is nice to hear about those little moments of happiness. It makes me think that there’s more magic left in the world than I thought.”

The conversation continued, filled with more personal stories and laughter. As you enjoyed the warmth of the cafe and the comfort of Taehyung’s presence, the snow outside seemed to fall even more gently, creating a serene and magical backdrop to your evening together.

As spring approached, the transformation in your relationship with Taehyung became more evident. The simple gestures between you, a lingering touch, a shared glance, began to carry a deeper meaning. Taehyung’s once casual conversations now carried an undertone of affection, and his smile seemed to linger a little longer when he looked at you.

One afternoon, you decided to take a walk through the blooming meadows just outside the village. The air was filled with the sweet scent of wildflowers, and the landscape was painted with vibrant colours as the earth shook off the winter’s cold embrace.

As you walked along the winding path, Taehyung turned to you with a soft smile. “The meadows look stunning this time of year, don’t they? It’s like the world’s been dipped in colour.”

You nodded, taking in the beauty around you. “It is beautiful. I have always loved spring. It feels like a time of new beginnings.”

Taehyung’s gaze softened as he looked at you. “You know, I used to dream about traveling to places like this when I was a child. My mother would tell me stories about far-off lands and the wonders they held. Being here with you, seeing these meadows, it feels like those dreams are coming true.”

You felt a warm flush at his words, and before you could fully process it, Taehyung gently took your hand in his. The gesture was unexpected but felt completely natural. His touch was gentle, and it sent a pleasant thrill through your fingers. You looked up at him, surprised by the boldness of the moment.

“I’ve always admired your sense of wonder,” Taehyung said softly, his thumb lightly brushing your knuckles. “It’s one of the things that drew me to you. You see magic in the ordinary, and that is something I’ve always wanted to cherish.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You had felt a growing connection between you but hearing him express it so openly was both thrilling and comforting. “I never imagined that someone could see me that way,” you admitted, squeezing his hand lightly. “But I’m glad you do. You have brought so much joy and excitement into my life. It’s like you’ve awakened a part of me that I didn’t even know was there.”

Taehyung’s smile widened, and he pulled you gently closer as you continued walking. “I feel the same way. Being with you has made me realize that there’s more to life than just surviving. You have shown me that there’s beauty in every moment, and it’s something I want to experience with you.”

As you walked hand in hand through the meadows, you felt a deep sense of contentment. The shared conversations, the way Taehyung’s eyes lingered on you with affection, and the gentle touches between you all spoke of a growing bond that was more than just friendship. You were falling for him, and it was a feeling that seemed to grow with every passing day.

At one point, you stopped to admire a particularly vibrant patch of flowers. Taehyung leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Do you remember when we first met? I never would have imagined that our friendship would grow into something like this.”

You laughed softly, looking into his eyes. “Neither did I, but I would not change a thing. It has been an incredible journey.”

Taehyung’s gaze softened, and he placed a tender kiss on your forehead. “Here’s to many more adventures together, and to finding magic in every moment we share.”

But one day you got the news that would absolutely break your heart. The news that Taehyung was going to leave the village soon. He has spent almost a year in Briarfield at this point.

The sun was setting, casting a golden hue as the last light of day began to fade. The village was quiet, with only the distant sounds of evening settling in and the loud noises of the crows. Taehyung had just finished packing up his stall for the day, and the air was filled with the crisp promise of twilight.

You stood beside him; your heart heavy with the knowledge that he would soon be leaving for a new venture—a journey that would take him far from the village. The thought of him being away from you was almost too much to bear. As he finished securing the last of his supplies, you took a deep breath, gathering your courage.

“Taehyung,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Are you sure you must leave? I wish there was something I could do to keep you here.”

Taehyung looked at you, his expression a mixture of sadness and determination. He reached out, taking your hands in his, his touch warm and comforting. “I wish I could stay too. But I am but a merchant who must travel to make a living selling new things. I need to go, but not because I want to leave you behind.”

His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the depth of his emotion reflected in them. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about our future. I don’t want to imagine a life where we’re apart. Every moment with you has made me realize just how much I want to share my life with you.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as you listened, your heart aching with the intensity of his words. “Taehyung, what are you saying?”

He squeezed your hands gently, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’m saying that I want us to be together. I want to take you with me, not just on this journey, but on all the adventures that life has to offer. I want to travel the world with you by my side, to explore new places and create memories together.”

His words were like a balm to your anxious heart. The thought of traveling with Taehyung, of experiencing new worlds and building a life together, filled you with a profound sense of joy and excitement.

“I know it won’t be easy, I know I’m no wealthy nobleman,” he continued, his gaze unwavering, “and there will be challenges along the way. But I promise you this: I will always be there for you, and I will work every day to make sure that our life together is everything we’ve dreamed of. Your smile, the little expressions you make when you like something, the sparkle in your eyes when you talk about all the things you wish to do, the way you fiddle with your clothes when you get shy... all the little things. My soul hurt from within at the mere thought of never seeing that again.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you could see the same emotion reflected in Taehyung’s eyes. “Taehyung, I don’t want to be apart from you either. I’ve fallen in love with you, and the thought of being with you, of seeing the world together—it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Taehyung’s face lit up with a radiant smile, his eyes shining with happiness. “Then come with me. Let’s build a future together, explore new horizons, and face whatever comes our way. We can make our dreams a reality, side by side.”

You nodded, a smile breaking through your tears. “Yes, Taehyung. I want that more than anything.”

He drew you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as the last light of day melted into the evening sky. The world seemed to stand still as you both revelled in the moment, the promise of a shared future making the present moment feel like a dream come true.

As you pulled back slightly, Taehyung cupped your face in his hands, his touch tender and loving. “Well, I guess I should go the traditional root and ask for your hand from your father right darling” you giggled lightly hitting his shoulder and nodding.

You sat quietly by the window, your fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your dress as you stole glances at Taehyung. He stood with quiet confidence across the room, but you could sense the tension in his posture. Your heart raced, anticipation mingling with fear as you awaited your father’s decision.

Your father sat in his armchair, arms crossed, and brow furrowed in deep contemplation. He regarded Taehyung with a scrutinizing gaze, the weight of his protective instincts evident in every line of his face. You could feel the tension in the air—your father had always been fiercely protective of you, especially after all the unsolicited attention from Lord Corwin.

"So, Taehyung…" Your father’s voice cut through the silence, steady but probing. "You wish to marry my daughter?"

Taehyung nodded respectfully, stepping forward with a calm determination that steadied your nerves. "Yes, sir. I love her, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her."

Your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, flicking to you and then back to Taehyung. "How old are you, boy?"

"Twenty-six, sir."

Your father’s brow raised ever so slightly, and his gaze softened, just for a moment. You could tell he was weighing the age difference in his mind, but six years between you didn’t seem so bad to him—especially when compared to Lord Corwin, a man nearly his own age who had been making his interest in you disturbingly clear for years. The thought of Corwin’s advances made his stomach churn with disgust. The idea of that old, lecherous man laying claim to you was something your father could never tolerate.

"And what is it you do for a living?" your father asked, his tone regaining its edge. He leaned forward slightly in his chair, as if this question held the key to everything.

"I’m a merchant," Taehyung replied. "I trade in rare and exotic goods and sometimes in textile and jewellery. I’ve worked hard to build my business, and I can provide for your daughter."

Your father nodded slowly, digesting the information. "Being a merchant… It’s an unpredictable trade. One day you could thrive, and the next, you’re barely scraping by. How can I trust that you’ll be able to take care of her?"

Taehyung straightened his shoulders, determination flashing in his eyes. "I understand your concern, sir. But I’ve built my business carefully. I’ve secured reliable connections and steady income. More importantly, I will do everything in my power to fulfil her dream of exploring the world. I will give her love, security, and a life full of joy. I promise you that."

Your father leaned back in his chair, his gaze shifting between you and Taehyung. His eyes softened as they landed on you, a brief flicker of emotion crossing his face. You could see that he was weighing not just Taehyung’s words, but the way you had been glowing with happiness ever since you met him.

He sighed deeply; his expression conflicted and weighing his options. The image of Lord Corwin, with his balding head and leering eyes, flickered through your mind. Corwin had been circling you like a predator since before you had even turned eighteen, making his intentions clear in ways that had always made your skin crawl. The fact that a man so much older than your father could desire you had never sat well with him.

"At least you’re not old enough to be her father," your father muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He looked up at Taehyung again, a shadow of protectiveness still lingering in his eyes. "That… man, Corwin… He’s been after her for years. I don’t trust him. Not one bit. The thought of him trying to court my daughter makes my blood boil."

Taehyung’s expression darkened slightly at the mention of Lord Corwin, but he quickly masked it with a polite nod. He always noted the looming presence of Lord Corwin around you but never commented on it. "I understand, sir. I would never treat her the way he has. I want to give her a life full of love and respect, not possession."

Your father studied him for a long moment, his gaze softening as the words sank in. Finally, he turned his attention to you, his voice gentle. "And you, my daughter? Is this truly what you want? Does he make you happy?"

Your cheeks flushed a soft pink as you nodded shyly, your hands tightening in your lap. "Yes, Father. He… he makes me happy."

A long sigh escaped your father as he looked between the two of you. He saw the way Taehyung’s eyes never left you, the way they softened when they looked at you, filled with affection. He saw the glow in your face, the happiness that had settled over you ever since Taehyung had entered your life.

"That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "To see you happy, to know you’re loved."

He turned to Taehyung, his expression softening but still holding a firm warning. "If you promise to cherish her, to be a good husband, then I’ll give you, my blessing. But know this, Taehyung… if you ever hurt her or make her unhappy, you’ll have me to answer to."

Taehyung bowed deeply, gratitude and respect evident in every movement. "Thank you, sir. I swear to you, I will make her happier than she’s ever been."

Your father nodded, standing and extending his hand toward Taehyung. As the two men shook hands, a sense of relief washed over you, the tension that had held you captive slowly dissipating. Your mother who had silently watched the exchanged came with a bright smile to congratulate and embrace you.

The future you had dreamed of now felt real filled with love, adventure, and the promise of happiness that only Taehyung could bring.

You felt like you were floating on top of the world. You felt the happiest you ever felt standing in Taehyung’s embrace. Nothing could possibly go wrong you thought. How naive you were to hold such expectations...

When it all came crashing down

The news struck Lord Corwin like a physical blow: your father had agreed to let Taehyung marry you. You, the object of his obsession for so many years, were to wed someone far beneath the station Corwin had believed only he could offer you. His heart churned with a mixture of rage, disbelief, and festering jealousy, each emotion more poisonous than the last.

For years, Corwin had watched you grow, long before you had even turned eighteen. He had admired you from afar, convincing himself that once you came of age, he would swoop in, offer you marriage, and make you his. He believed you needed someone with power and experience—a man of influence who could protect you. He told himself that age was irrelevant when it came to desire and control. And so, he waited, biding his time until you would be old enough for him to claim. You were just so beautiful and young he felt excitement course through his body at the thought of destroying that innocence. He wanted to break you, mind, body, and soul.

The comparison gnawed at him. Taehyung was everything Corwin was not: young, lean, and graceful. Where Corwin had become bloated over the years, his once-powerful body sagging under the weight of indulgence, Taehyung’s figure was trim and strong. His skin held the warmth of youth, tanned from days spent labouring under the sun. Corwin’s own complexion was pale and mottled, the sagging skin of his jowls and the red blotches on his nose a testament to years of excess and drink.

Taehyung’s dark, thick hair fell in soft waves around his sharp features, while Corwin’s own greasy strands had thinned to the point of near baldness. He could hardly stand to look at himself in the mirror anymore, especially when the memory of Taehyung’s easy smile and clear, confident eyes lingered in his mind.

What did you see in him aside from his handsome looks? Corwin seethed, his beady eyes narrowing with contempt as he sat brooding in his dimly lit manor. His fingers, swollen and stubby, adorned with gaudy rings, dug into the arms of his chair as he thought of Taehyung’s hands—strong, capable, hands that had undoubtedly touched you in ways Corwin could only dream of.

And that’s what enraged him the most. For years, he had waited, believed that you would come around, that you would see him as your only option for security. Yet now you had chosen someone like Taehyung—an outsider, a nobody, who had somehow won over both your heart and your father’s approval.

Corwin’s stomach churned with resentment. His bulging belly pressed uncomfortably against his embroidered waistcoat, reminding him of how much he had let himself go. He felt grotesque compared to Taehyung’s effortless charm. The thought of you looking at Taehyung with love and admiration, of you sharing your smiles and your dreams with him, made Corwin sick with jealousy. It should have been him. You should have been his.

You didn’t know it yet, but Corwin wasn’t going to let you go so easily. He had waited years for you, years watching from the shadows, and he wouldn’t allow some pretty-faced merchant to take you away from him. No—if he couldn’t have you, then no one would.

Seething in his dark manor, Corwin’s mind twisted and turned, seeking a way to tear you away from Taehyung. His eyes, bloodshot with rage, caught the flicker of candlelight and a cruel smile crept onto his lips. The sacrifice. Of course. It had been right in front of him the entire time.

For centuries, the village of Briarfield had performed the virgin sacrifice ritual to appease the so-called devil. But Corwin knew the truth—it was a hoax, a vile tradition created by the nobles to satisfy their own depraved desires. Every year, they selected a virgin girl under the guise of protecting the village, only to defile her and leave her for dead like it was nothing.

Corwin had never hated the ritual. In fact, he had always seen it as an effective way to maintain control, to keep the villagers fearful and obedient. But this year, he would use it for his own purposes—to make sure that you were his, and only his.

Summoning the village elders under the pretence of urgent business, Corwin presented his case. They met in a candle-lit chamber, the air heavy with the smell of burning wax and damp stone. The elders, grey-haired and hunched with age, listened carefully as Corwin laid out his plan.

“The time has come once again,” Corwin began, his voice calm but insidious. “The devil demands his sacrifice, and we must uphold our sacred duty to protect this village.”

The elders nodded. They had been complicit in the ritual for years, their faces grim and indifferent. They knew what it truly meant, and they were aware of what Corwin was about to suggest.

“This year,” Corwin continued, his tone taking on a darker edge, “the girl has already been chosen.”

His eyes gleamed as he spoke your name.

“She is the perfect offering,” Corwin said with a sickening smile. “Her engagement to Taehyung is a distraction—a temptation that the devil himself would surely seek to punish. We must act before it is too late.”

The elders exchanged knowing glances. There was no hesitation, no resistance. They agreed without question, their loyalty to the hoax and their own twisted desires overshadowing any concern for your well-being. All they cared about was the material possessions given to them by the nobles. They far to gone to consider feelings of others as greed had completely overtaken them, over the years. The decision had been finalised.

The next morning, the announcement had been made. This year’s sacrifice was You.

As the news spread, panic swept through Briarfield like wildfire. Whispers of the devil’s wrath filled the air, and fear gripped the hearts of the villagers. They believed that the ritual was real, that sacrificing you would protect them from harm.

But Corwin knew better. He watched from the shadows, his heart dark with satisfaction. You were trapped now, ensnared by a centuries-old lie designed to rob you of everything. And when the time came, he would be there waiting. Not even Taehyung could save you from the fate that had been sealed.

In his mind, you were already his.

You stood there with wide eyes at the town square as you processed the news. The words rang in your ears, a low murmur at first, like distant thunder, before crashing into your consciousness with the force of a storm.

You… you had been chosen as the sacrifice.

This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. Your heart hammered in your chest, your limbs went numb, and the world around you seemed to close in. The villagers’ faces blurred together, their whispers and murmurs growing louder. You felt like you were drowning in a sea of fear and dread.

“No,” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head slowly. “Not me…”

This was not supposed to happen. You had been so close to escaping this cursed place, so close to finally living the life you had dreamed of with Taehyung by your side. A life of love, freedom, and adventure—a life far away from the darkness that clung to Briarfield like a shroud.

But now, that dream was being ripped from you.

Your hands trembled as you clenched them at your sides, your mind reeling. What had you done to deserve this? Why were you being punished? You had seen other girls chosen before, seen the hollow, terrified looks in their eyes as they were led away to their deaths. You had always feared this moment, but you never thought it would be you.

A cold, bitter chill swept over you, and your breath caught in your throat. You couldn’t let this happen. You couldn’t let them take you. But deep down, you knew the village’s decision was final. There was no escaping the elders’ judgment, no defying the centuries-old ritual that had claimed so many before you.

Then, through the crowd, you saw him. Taehyung.

"Y/N!" His voice cut through the noise, filled with desperation. He pushed past the villagers, his face a mix of fear and fury. "Y/N!"

As soon as you saw him, the numbness that had overtaken you shattered. Your legs trembled, and you took a step forward, reaching out as if he were your last lifeline.

“Taehyung!” you cried, your voice breaking as tears blurred your vision. “Taehyung, please!”

In an instant, he was there, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. The warmth of his body, the strength of his grip—it was everything you needed in that moment, everything that kept you from falling apart.

"I won’t let them do this to you," he whispered fiercely, his voice shaking with emotion. "I swear, I won’t let them take you."

But even as he spoke those words, you know how impossible that was. Taehyung was new here so he cannot grasp the severity of everything. The elders had spoken, and the ritual demanded obedience. No one had ever defied it and survived.

Before either of you could say another word, strong hands grabbed Taehyung by the shoulders, yanking him away from you. You stumbled back, reaching for him, panic surging through your veins.

"No!" you screamed, lunging forward, but more hands grabbed you, dragging you backward.

"Y/N!" Taehyung shouted, struggling against the men who restrained him. His eyes were wild with fear, his hands clawing at the air as he fought to reach you.

You kicked and thrashed, desperate to break free, to run to him, to hold him one last time. But it was useless. The men’s grip was iron, their expressions cold and unfeeling as they pulled you toward your home to prepare you for the ceremony.

“Taehyung!” you cried out, tears streaming down your face as you reached for him, your fingertips brushing the air between you. “Don’t leave me!”

“I won’t! I promise!” Taehyung yelled; his voice hoarse with desperation as he was dragged further away. “I’ll come for you, I swear!”

But the distance between you grew, your bodies pulled further apart by the hands of fate. His voice became fainter, swallowed by the murmur of the crowd.

As they forced you back toward your home, you twisted and turned, your heart breaking with every step. Your hands reached out, but Taehyung was no longer there. The emptiness between you felt like a void, and for the first time, true fear gripped your soul.

Your room was cold and quiet, save for the soft splashing of water as your mother gently bathed your skin. You sat in the large wooden tub, your arms wrapped around yourself for warmth, though nothing could shield you from the dread settling in your chest. Steam rose from the water, clinging to the air with an eerie stillness, but it did nothing to soothe your trembling body.

Your mother’s hands moved over you with care, her touch soft but weighed down by sorrow. She washed your arms and shoulders, wiping away the traces of the life you once knew, preparing you for the inevitable. Her face was pale and drawn, her eyes dull with grief as she worked in silence. She had not spoken since you were declared as the sacrifice, and the absence of your father—who had left the house earlier, unable to bear the sight of his daughter’s impending fate—hung like a ghost in the room.

After bathing you, she helped you from the tub, wrapping you in a thin cloth. She guided you toward a small stool by the fire, her steps slow, as if every movement pained her. The warmth of the hearth barely touched your skin, doing little to chase away the cold knot of fear in your stomach.

Your mother knelt behind you, her hands moving through your long, damp hair. She did not braid it as she usually did for such occasions. Instead, she combed it gently with her fingers, allowing the dark strands to fall free down your back like a cascading waterfall. Your hair framed your face, its softness a stark contrast to the harsh reality of the ceremony that awaited you. The gentle curls of your locks, freshly washed and perfumed with lavender oil, gave you an air of innocence that would make you appear even more pure to the villagers.

The silence between you both was heavy. You could feel her hands trembling slightly as she worked, her breaths shallow and uneven. She parted your hair down the side, letting it fall in loose waves, unadorned, framing your face in a way that made you look younger, more delicate.

When your hair was dry, your mother brought out the ceremonial dress from the chest at the foot of your bed. She never wanted to use it but here she is. This knowledge weighs at her. Her hands shook as she held the white linen gown before you, her lips pressed into a thin line. The dress was simple, yet ethereal—a symbol of the purity expected of you.

The bodice was a fitted corset, but modest, cinching gently at your waist before flaring out into a flowing skirt that reached down to your ankles. The sleeves were long and billowed softly, cinching at the wrists, giving the appearance of delicate wings. Silver embroidery traced the neckline and cuffs, small and intricate, adding a subtle touch of elegance to the otherwise plain garment.

Your mother helped you step into the gown, her fingers carefully fastening the laces at the back. With each tug, you felt as though the dress was binding you tighter into your fate. The fabric clung to your body, soft but suffocating, as if it were swallowing you whole.

When the final lace was tied, your mother stepped back, her eyes filling with tears as she took in the sight of you. The pure white of the dress, the soft waves of your dark hair, and the pale glow of your skin all worked together to create the image of a perfect sacrifice—untouched, innocent, and ready to be offered.

“You look… beautiful,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

But the word felt hollow. You didn’t feel beautiful. You felt like a vessel—something to be given away, something to be used.

As your mother placed a tender kiss on your forehead, you swallowed the lump in your throat, your heart aching with a desperation you could not express. Your father’s absence weighed heavily on you.

This wasn’t how your life was supposed to end. Not like this.

But as your mother’s hands lingered on your shoulders, the reality of it all sank in and all you could do was pray for any God out there to help you.

Taehyung paced back and forth in the small, dimly lit room where he had been confined. The walls, lined with aged stone and heavy curtains, seemed to close in on him, suffocating his hopes. His mind raced with plans and possibilities, each more desperate than the last. He had been thrown into a locked chamber, barred from leaving and, most painfully, from seeing you. He could hear muffled voices and footsteps outside, the occasional clinking of metal, and the distant sound of the village preparing for the ritual. Each noise was a painful reminder of the precious moments slipping away.

Determined not to give up, Taehyung had already tried every lockpicking trick he knew, but the door remained stubbornly shut. His heart pounded in his chest, a heavy weight pressing down on him as he thought of you being prepared for the ceremony. The images of your face—so full of hope and love suddenly replaced by shock—haunted him. He could only imagine how frightened you must be, and the thought of you being forced into the clutches of the so-called "ceremony" filled him with a deep, cold rage.

In a fit of frustration, he banged on the door, shouting for anyone who might hear him. “Let me out! I must see her!” His voice echoed off the stone walls, but it was met with silence. He pounded on the door again, desperate, and breathless. “Please! Someone, help me!”

His efforts were met with nothing but the indifferent response of the guards outside, their footsteps fading as they moved away. Taehyung sank to the floor, his back against the door. He clenched his fists, his knuckles white, and took deep, steadying breaths, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling within him.

In his heart, he knew he couldn’t give up. Not now, not when the love of his life was in such grave danger. Taehyung's mind raced with a single, driving thought: he had to escape, he had to save you. His determination hardened into resolve as he worked to find another way out, his thoughts consumed with the promise he had made to you—that he would never let anything come between you.

He could only hope that, somehow, he would find a way to break free and reach you in time.

And as his mind tried to come up with another escape plan, he door to his chamber creaked open. The dim light from the corridor spilled in, and there, standing in the doorway with a twisted smile, was Lord Corwin. Taehyung’s heart sank, his stomach churning with a sickening sense of dread.

Corwin stepped inside, his heavy footfalls echoing in the small room. He surveyed Taehyung with a sneer, his eyes brimming with malice and twisted satisfaction. "Well, well, if it isn’t the valiant merchant," Corwin drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. "So full of love and devotion for that sweet little girl, aren’t you?"

Taehyung rose to his feet, glaring at Corwin with barely contained fury. "What do you want?" he spat, his voice trembling with rage.

Corwin’s smile widened, revealing yellowed teeth. He moved closer, his oily presence filling the room like a vile stench. "I’ve come to deliver some unfortunate news, I’m afraid. You see, while you sit here locked away, your precious bride-to-be is being prepared for an incredibly special ceremony. One that has been a tradition in Briarfield for centuries."

Taehyung’s jaw clenched as he stepped forward, his hands balling into fists. "I already know about the ritual," he growled. "But you won’t lay a finger on her. I’ll stop you."

Corwin chuckled darkly, shaking his head in mock sympathy. "Ah, but you don’t know the true nature of the ritual, do you? No, you still believe in that quaint little lie they talk about appeasing the devil." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a sickening whisper. "The truth is the ritual has nothing to do with the devil. It’s all for us. The noble men of Briarfield. Each year, we choose a girl. We strip her of her dignity, her purity... we defile her. And then, once we’ve had our fun, we leave her to die."

Taehyung’s eyes widened in horror, his breath catching in his throat. He felt sick, his vision blurring with rage as Corwin continued.

"And your sweet little bride-to-be," Corwin sneered, "will be no different. I will have the pleasure of taking her first. I have waited so long for this moment—watching her blossom into womanhood, untouched and pure, just waiting for me. And when I am done with her..." He paused, his lips curling into a grotesque smile. "Well, let’s just say she won’t be the same girl you fell in love with."

Taehyung’s vision went red. He lunged at Corwin, his fists aiming straight for the older man’s leering face. "You bastard!" he roared, but before his fist could connect, two guards grabbed him from behind, pulling him back with brute force.

Corwin stepped back, laughing cruelly as Taehyung struggled against the guards. "Temper, temper," Corwin taunted, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You’re nothing but a pathetic peasant, thinking you could protect her. What could you possibly offer her? A life of selling trinkets in the market? She’s too good for you, boy."

Taehyung strained against the guards; his teeth gritted in pure fury. "I’ll kill you! I swear if you touch her-"

"You’ll do nothing," Corwin interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. "Because you’re weak. You’ll sit here, helpless, while we take what’s ours." He adjusted his coat with a smug grin. "Enjoy the show from your cage, boy. I’ll be sure to tell her how useless you were in the end."

With that, Corwin turned on his heel and strode toward the door, a satisfied smile plastered across his face. As he reached the threshold, he paused and glanced over his shoulder. "She’ll cry for you, you know," he said, as if savouring the thought. "But you won’t be able to do a thing about it."

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Taehyung trembling with rage and helplessness. His heart ached with fear for you, but the fire in his chest refused to die. Even as he struggled against the guards, his mind churned with thoughts of revenge, desperate to stop Corwin and save you from the fate he had so vilely described.

The village square was eerily quiet despite the large gathering of people. You stood there, heart pounding in your chest, dressed in your white ceremonial gown. The wind tugged at the hem, but it did little to stir the suffocating atmosphere. It was as if the very air had thickened around you, heavy with expectation and dread.

The villagers watched with false reverence, their eyes dull and unfeeling, offering hollow words of praise for your supposed bravery. Bravery? It was a bitter joke. You had not chosen to stand here, had not chosen this fate. You were forced- condemned.

The elder approached you with a blindfold in his gnarled hands, his wrinkled face twisted into a grim mask of ceremony. His fingers were cold and rough as they tied the cloth tightly around your eyes, shutting out the last slivers of the village you had known all your life. Darkness consumed your vision, leaving only the cacophony of sound and the bitter taste of fear on your tongue.

As you stood there, sightless, you could hear your mother sobbing softly from somewhere behind you. Each sob pierced through you like a blade, her grief wrapping around your heart. You wanted to cry out to her, to run to her, Be held and comforted by your mom but your legs were frozen beneath you, bound by invisible chains of duty and terror.

Hands gripped your arms—firm, unyielding hands—and began to guide you forward, pulling you away from the square. You stumbled at first, your feet catching on the uneven ground, but the hands steadied you, urging you on. You could hear the shuffle of boots and the whispering of cloaks as the elders led you through the village, away from the familiar sounds of Briarfield and deeper into the woods.

The ground beneath your feet shifted as you left the cobblestone streets and stepped onto the soft earth of the forest. The air changed, cooler with the scent of moss and decaying leaves. The sounds of the village faded into the distance, replaced by the rustling of trees and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot. You could hear the soft chirping of insects and the distant calls of night birds, their eerie songs only heightening the sense of isolation.

Your heart raced in your chest, each step feeling heavier than the last as you were dragged closer to the altar. Your mind raced with images of what was to come, of the horrors Corwin had spoken of, and you fought to keep your breathing steady. The blindfold pressed tightly against your eyelids, and with each passing moment, the reality of your situation sank deeper into your bones.

The elders murmured soft incantations as they led you further into the woods, their voices low and rhythmic, blending with the sounds of the night. But their words brought no comfort, only a sickening reminder of what awaited you at the altar.

You strained your ears, trying to grasp any familiar sounds, anything that would tell you where you were. The world around you had become an abyss, where each sound was amplified in the darkness. The soft brush of leaves against your skin, the cold gust of wind on your face, the distant crackling of a fire you could not see, all of it swirled together in a maddening symphony of fear.

The hands that guided you suddenly stopped, and you could feel the ground beneath your feet shift slightly uneven stones pressing against your soles. You knew, without seeing, that you had arrived at the altar.

You shivered as they lead you towards the, what you assumed to be the alter made up of old ancient slab covered in moss and lichen. As you were laid upon the stone, you could hear the rustling of the elders’ robes. You strained your ears, hoping for some sound that would anchor you in the moment—a bird’s call, the rustle of leaves, anything—but the forest had gone unnervingly quiet. The blindfold pressed tightly against your face, leaving you in total darkness.

You heard the soft scrape of a blade being drawn, the metallic sound causing your heart to lurch in your chest. The elder murmured words in a language you didn't understand, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You were waiting for something, some terrible finality but what came instead was silence. The kind of silence that felt wrong, like it was filled with secrets.

You felt hands on your shoulders, their grip too familiar, too wrong. And then, you heard it, a low, mocking laugh.

It wasn't the deep, otherworldly growl of a devil, but the cruel, triumphant sound of a man who had long desired something he was now moments away from taking. The sound sent a shiver down your spine.

Lord Corwin.

You jerked against the hands that held you, but they tightened, keeping you in place. Your heart pounded in your chest, panic surging through your veins. You tried to speak, to demand answers, but your throat closed, your voice trapped behind a wall of fear.

"You still believe in the devil, don't you?" Corwin’s voice slithered through the darkness, mocking and taunting. "Poor thing. They have filled your head with stories of demons and sacrifices. But I assure you... there is no devil coming for you tonight."

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. The ceremony, the sacrifice, none of it was real. You were not being offered to some dark entity. You were being handed over to men like him.

"You see," Corwin continued, his voice drawing closer, "this ritual isn’t for protection. It’s for us." He paused, his breath hot and close, sending waves of nausea through you. "For centuries, we've chosen a girl each year to entertain us. To indulge ourselves in ways that the village would never dare to question."

You felt your knees weaken, your body trembling as his words sank in. The stories you had been told since childhood were all lies. The devil was just a tale, a cover for the horrors these men had committed under the guise of tradition.

"Don't struggle," Corwin whispered, his tone sickeningly sweet. "You’ll only make it harder for yourself. After all, you should be honoured to have caught my attention all these years."

Then you felt a hand rustling with your dress and your stomach started twisting at the realisation would exactly Corwin’s words meant. You felt a hand sneak up your dress and grab your thigh and your fight response kicked in. You jerked at the touch and tried your best to swing a fist at where you heard Corwin standing. You were in every disadvantage, but you weren’t going down without a fight. Or so you thought.

You suddenly felt your hands being grabbed and forced down harshly above your head. You cursed aloud at whoever it was but now that both your hands and legs were immobile you weren’t sure what to do. The adrenaline in your body was slowly slipping away and all you felt was terror.

“Tsk tsk tsk, this is not what I expect from you darlin-“ you cut Corwin off  “I don’t care about what you expect from me!” you angrily yelled out but just then you felt a sting on your left cheek.

Lord Corwin had slapped you.

“Somebody really needs to put you in your place. Do not forget you are just a mere woman. You exist just to serve men. The only thing of value you hold is beauty and a fertile body to birth children” Lord Corwin replied venomously.

And just before you could retort back, you felt your dress being ripped and only a gasp left your throat.

“No stay back!” you yelled in desperation as you felt Corwin’s grimy hands roam your exposed legs. You felt his breath near your throat as he leaned down to kiss the area. You felt disgusted and angry. Your mind wondered to Taehyung praying that he would show up somehow. You felt Corwin’s hand slid up and grabbed your chest. You cried angry tears as you decided to yell one last time “Taehyung please save me from here!” you cried loud angry tears and just when you were about to give up, you heard it.

From somewhere deeper in the woods, a new sound echoed, a distant clamour of voices, of movement. At first, you thought it was your mind playing tricks on you, desperate to cling to any hope. But it grew louder, closer. The elders hesitated, their hands loosening on your arms and legs.

Taehyung.

You knew it was him. He had come for you.

The voices grew louder, the footsteps echoing closer until they were upon you. You could hear the rush of movement, angry shouts, the crack of branches underfoot. Panic surged through the elders and the men surrounding you. Their once confident whispers turned frantic.

You felt your heartbeat in your throat, pounding with both fear and a sliver of desperate hope.

"Stop them!" Corwin's voice rose in anger, the sharp command lashing through the air like a whip. His hands gripped your arms again, but they were no longer steady. You could feel his panic too, his control over the situation slipping through his fingers.

The elder holding you released his grip entirely, his cowardice evident in his hasty retreat. You could hear the shuffle of feet as others followed suit, abandoning the ritual altar in a state of chaos.

Suddenly, the blindfold was ripped from your eyes. The world returned in a flash of dim torchlight and shadowed faces. The clearing was swarming with men, some village guards, some common folk, and there, breaking through the tree line, was Taehyung.

His eyes blazed with fury; his jaw clenched tightly as he barrelled toward you. For a moment, you were frozen, overwhelmed by the sight of him and by the fact that he had come, against all odds.

Corwin cursed under his breath, his face twisted in rage as he pulled you roughly towards him, using your body as a shield between him and Taehyung. His grip was hard, bruising, his nails digging into your flesh. You could smell the sweat and desperation radiating from him.

"You think you can take her from me?" Corwin spat, his voice a mixture of fear and disgust as he glared at Taehyung. "You, a lowly peasant, dare to challenge me?"

Taehyung slowed his approach but never took his eyes off you, his expression softening for a brief moment as he saw the fear in your eyes. Then, his gaze hardened again, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I will take her from you," Taehyung said firmly, his voice steady despite the storm raging behind his eyes. "Because she doesn't belong to you. She never did."

Corwin scoffed, his breath heavy against your neck. "Look at me, girl!" he growled, yanking your face toward him. His once pristine appearance was now crumbling. His thinning hair slick with sweat, his eyes bulging with anger and something worse, desperation. He reeked of arrogance, of an entitlement so deeply ingrained that he believed the world owed him everything, even you.

"You could have had comfort," Corwin sneered, his eyes darting between you and Taehyung. "Wealth, status... But you choose him?" His voice dripped with venom. "What can he offer you?"

You stared at Corwin, disgust rising like bile in your throat. Even now, he could not understand that what you wanted was freedom, not wealth. You wanted love, not power. And Taehyung offered you all the things Corwin never could—kindness, gentleness, and a future not built on fear.

But before you could answer, Taehyung took a step closer. His voice was like a promise, unwavering and fierce. "I offer her everything you never could, respect, love, and a life free from monsters like you."

Corwin’s grip tightened painfully for a moment, his face darkening. But then, as the approaching crowd surged closer, the realization dawned on him. His plan had failed. The power he once held over you and the village was slipping away.

His eyes flickered with malice as he released you, shoving you toward Taehyung. You stumbled, but Taehyung was there, catching you in his arms, pulling you against his chest protectively.

"Take her," Corwin sneered, stepping back, his lips curling into a bitter smile. "But this isn’t over. You think you've won, but you’ve merely delayed the inevitable." Corvin threw meaningless threats at you.

And with that, Corwin turned, retreating into the shadows of the woods, his figure vanishing into the night.

As you stood in Taehyung’s embrace, trying to make sense of the nightmare that had unfolded, Taehyung’s gaze locked down onto yours. His eyes swept over your form, and his expression hardened, his features darkening with a mixture of concern and fury. The delicate ceremonial gown you wore was torn and dirtied, bruises beginning to form where the men had handled you so roughly. Your entire body trembled, overwhelmed by everything you had endured.

Without a word, Taehyung quickly slipped off his long coat, moving toward you with a gentleness that contrasted the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. He draped the coat over your shoulders, covering you, shielding you from the eyes of those who had tormented you.

“Stay still,” he murmured softly, his voice thick with emotion. His hands brushed over your arms as he pulled the coat tighter around you, trying to hide the evidence of what could have been. His jaw clenched as his eyes flicked over your face, lingering on every bruise, every tear, and the fragile look of shock etched into your expression.

Anger flared briefly in his eyes as he spoke, his voice low but steady. “I’m so sorry… I should have gotten to you sooner.”

“Do not apologise for something you had no control over. I’m just glad that you made it.” You whisper back.

As Taehyung held you close once again, you looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “How did you manage to escape?” you asked, your voice trembling with exhaustion.

Taehyung’s face was a mix of anger and determination. “It was not easy. The guards had me locked in a small, dark cell in the chapel, and I was running out of time.”

He took a deep breath, clearly reliving the tense moments. “I overheard the guards talking about a secret passageway under the old chapel, used long ago for smuggling goods. I knew I had to find a way to use that passage to escape. Also, who reveals such information in front of a prisoner?” he says trying to make you smile and you giggled in response.

Taehyung then continued, “I managed to use a piece of broken furniture to pry open a loose stone in the cell wall. It was a desperate move, but I had to try. I crawled through the narrow tunnel, which led to the chapel’s old crypt. From there, I found a way out to the back of the chapel.”

Your heart raced as you listened, imagining his harrowing escape. “But how did you get to me?”

Taehyung nodded, a fierce resolve in his eyes. “Once I got outside, I made my way to the village edge, where I saw your father sitting in sorrow. I found him and told him everything about the ritual, Corwin’s lies, and how I had managed to escape.”

He paused, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of pride and urgency. “Your father was able to rally the villagers and expose Corwin’s true intentions. They were already suspicious, but my escape and the information I brought gave them the final push to act against Corwin and his corrupt schemes.”

You felt a surge of relief and admiration for Taehyung. “I’m so grateful you made it out in time.”

Taehyung gently cupped your face, his expression softening. “I would have done anything to save you.”

Your gaze shifted just in time to see the villagers dragging a furious Lord Corwin back into the clearing. His once-fine clothes were torn and filthy, his large frame covered in mud and sweat. He panted heavily, too slow, and too fat to outrun the angry crowd that had hunted him down.

“Let me go!” Corwin bellowed, his face flushed with humiliation and anger. “You fools! You have no idea what you have done! This village needs me!”

The villagers’ rage bubbled over as they shoved him to the ground. “You let our daughters die!” someone shouted from the crowd. “You let them suffer while we were blind!”

Corwin sneered, trying to rise, but his bloated body betrayed him, and the crowd held him down. He turned his eyes to Taehyung, the hatred in his gaze palpable but Taehyung let the crowd do the talking, deciding to step back with you.

A Month Later:

The grandeur of the magical court of Aetherfall stood in stark contrast to the grim history of Briarfield. The court was a sprawling palace, its walls adorned with shimmering crystals that bathed the hall in a soft, ethereal light. Magic-infused tapestries depicted scenes of legendary heroes and mythical creatures, setting a majestic backdrop for the day’s proceedings.

Lord Corwin, along with other implicated nobles from Briarfield, was presented before the court. The once-proud noble now looked gaunt and dishevelled, his arrogance replaced by palpable fear. The court was abuzz with whispers and murmurs as the noble’s faced judgment for their crimes.

The Chief Enchanter, a figure of immense power and authority, presided over the proceedings. His robes, interwoven with silver thread, glowed with a gentle luminescence. He spoke in a voice that carried both authority and sorrow, condemning the nobles for their abhorrent actions.

“Lord Corwin and his compatriots stand accused of vile corruption and cruelty,” the Chief Enchanter intoned. “Their ritual, a grotesque masquerade to cover their own depravity, has caused untold suffering. Justice must be served.”

Corwin’s face twisted in a mixture of rage and despair as the verdict was read. The punishment was severe—his wealth confiscated, his titles stripped, and he was to be banished from the realms of Aetherfall. The court’s magic would ensure he could never return, casting a protective barrier around the realm to keep him from ever entering again. And he shall work as a peasant until the day he takes his last breath.

Where as in Briarfield, the once-dark village had transformed into a vibrant scene of celebration. Lanterns floated above, and tables were laden with an array of delicious foods and sparkling drinks. The villagers, once sombre, now danced and celebrated the end of a dark chapter in their history.

The village square of Briarfield had been transformed into a picturesque scene of festivity for your wedding. Lanterns, adorned with delicate fairy lights, floated gracefully above, casting a warm and inviting glow over the area. Tables draped in rich, burgundy fabrics were laden with an array of delicious foods: succulent roasted meats, fresh fruits, pastries dusted with sugar, and bubbling pitchers of sweet, sparkling drinks.

The wedding ceremony took place in the heart of the village square, where a beautifully decorated archway of intertwined flowers and greenery formed a natural altar. The archway was adorned with cascading blooms of ivory and blush pink, their gentle fragrance mingling with the cool evening air.

You stood at the entrance of the makeshift aisle, a vision of grace in a simple yet elegant wedding gown. The gown, made from a flowing white fabric, had delicate lace trim along the neckline and sleeves. Your hair, left open in soft waves, was adorned with a few small white flowers, adding a touch of ethereal beauty.

Taehyung stood at the altar, his formal attire reflecting the elegance of the occasion. He wore a dark navy-blue suit with intricate silver embroidery that caught the light, making him look every bit the regal figure. His eyes were locked on you, filled with admiration and love.

As you walked down the aisle, the villagers, gathered to witness the event, applauded, and cheered, their faces beaming with genuine happiness. The sound of soft music played by a small band in the corner of the square added to the celebratory atmosphere.

When you reached the altar, Taehyung took your hand gently, his touch warm and reassuring. The officiant, a respected elder of the village, began the ceremony with words of wisdom and blessing.

“Today, we gather to celebrate the union of two souls who have found their way to each other through trials and love. Let us rejoice in their happiness and witness the vows they will make.”

Taehyung and You shared your heartfelt vows which certainly bought tears in your eyes as the comforting words set in.

The officiant smiled warmly and pronounced you both husband and wife. The crowd erupted in cheers as you and Taehyung shared your first kiss as a married couple.

As the evening progressed, the celebration continued with lively music and dancing. Taehyung and you moved through the crowd, greeting friends and family, sharing laughter and joy. The atmosphere was filled with happiness and relief, a stark contrast to the dark days that had preceded this moment.

During the evening, as the stars began to twinkle in the sky, you and Taehyung took that as a chance a sneaked away from everyone. You both giggled like teenagers as you made your way towards Taehyung’s cottage. As soon as the door closed, Taehyung had you pushed up against it and wasted no time crashing against yours hungrily, filled with all the love and desire he had been holding back throughout the day. You melted into his embrace, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

He trailed kisses along your jawline, down your neck, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched. Your knees grew weak as he found that one spot on your neck that always drove you wild. His hands roamed over your body possessively, claiming every inch of you as his own.

With a sudden burst of strength, he lifted you into his arms and carried you toward the bedroom. You giggled playfully at the unexpected gesture, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he kissed a trail down your collarbone.

He gently laid you down on the bed, hovering over you with a look of pure adoration in his eyes. "You have no idea how beautiful you are," he whispered huskily before capturing your lips once again. You slowly trail your hands under his shirt and understanding what you wanted, he pulled his shirt off.

He had a soft stomach but years of hard labour had made his muscles taunt and as you were admiring him, his hands traced patterns along your sides before sliding under your dress to caress every curve. The fabric felt like too much of a barrier between your bodies as he explored every inch of skin beneath it.

Sensing your impatience, Taehyung pulled away for a moment to remove your dress, his eyes never leaving yours as he did. Once you were lying before him in nothing but your lingerie, he took a moment to admire the sight.

"You're perfect," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "Absolutely perfect and all mine."

His hands resumed their exploration, this time with no barriers in the way. He traced circles over the soft skin of your stomach, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, he moved lower, teasing the sensitive skin just above your panties.

You moaned softly at the sensation, arching into his touch. His fingers danced lightly over your heat, driving you closer to the edge with each gentle caress.

"Please," you whimpered, unable to take the teasing any longer. "I need you."

Taehyung's eyes darkened with desire at your words, and without another moment's hesitation, he removed your panties and looked at your core glistening with wetness. You suddenly felt shy and tried to close your legs, but Taehyung was fast enough to pry them open again.

“Don’t hide from me love, let me see and feel all of you” he said looking directly in your eyes. He brings his fingers to your core once again and starts making a figure 8 forcing the sweetest of sounds out of you.

“That’s it love. You look so pretty” he says before diving headfirst into your centre without a warning making you cry out in pleasure at the new sensation. Your hand reached out to grab his hair, pulling on the strands, eliciting a groan out of him. His tongue circles your clit as he slowly enters a finger inside you. The sensational felt uncomfortable but was soon replaced by blinding pleasure once he started moving them.

You felt a coil build up in your stomach as your breath started to get laboured not understanding the sensation. “Tae- I feel s-something in I- you” you couldn’t form a sentence before the coil snapped and you came with a loud moan panting loudly.

Taehyung finally rose up from between your legs, your juices running down his chin making your cheeks heat up. “You did so well baby!” he said a little bit too enthusiastically. You shyly reached your hands over his shoulders and brought him down for a kiss.

Taehyung pulled away before pressing his forehead to your, your noses touching, “We don’t have to do anything beyond this.” He whispered.

“I want to Tae. Don’t worry” you ease his nerves. “It’s going to hurt a little. I’ll try to go slow okay and if anything hurts too much, stop me” he rambles a little which is endearing to you how much he is worried about you.

You kiss his lips one more time, “I trust you Tae, don’t worry” you smile up at him. Seeing you with those big eyes looking at him asking him to make love to you, Tae scrambles to pull his pants down bringing his cock out and stroking it.

"I love you so much," he murmured as he lined himself up with your entrance. "Are you ready?"

You nodded eagerly, excitement and nervousness mingling together inside you. This was it—the moment you had been waiting for.

With a slow and steady push, Taehyung entered you fully. You gasped at the feeling of him stretching and filling you completely. Tears welled up in your eyes as a mix of pleasure and pain washed over you.

"Shh," Taehyung whispered soothingly as he wiped away a stray tear. "I've got you."

He stayed still for a moment to let you adjust to the sensation before slowly starting to move. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body until all thoughts were replaced by pure ecstasy.

As his pace quickened, so did the intensity of your pleasure until it was all-consuming—like fireworks exploding inside you with every movement. Your nails dug into his back, your moans growing louder with each thrust. You wrapped your legs around his waist feeling him even deeper inside of you.

"I'm… I'm…" you stammered, unable to form a coherent thought as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak. But as you were about to cum, he pulled out making you whine at the loss of your high. Before you could complain, he flipped you over on your stomach bringing your hips up and entered your heat once again.

Your hands clutched the sheets tightly as you feel him move your hair to the side and leave trails of kisses behind your neck and ear. You feel your pleasure build up once more and all you can let out are incoherent words. Taehyung could feel you were close with how much you were clenching around him.

"Come for me, baby," Taehyung urged, his voice filled with a mix of desire and desperation. "Let go."

With one final thrust, you felt yourself unravelling beneath him. Pleasure washed over you in a tidal wave as your hand tightened on the sheets below.

Taehyung's movements grew erratic as he chased his own release. With a low groan, he buried himself deep inside you as he found his own release. He buries his face in your neck as the waves of pleasure subsided, both of you breathless and spent from the intensity of it all.

He flipped you back onto your front before collapsing on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he caught his breath. "I love you so much," he whispered against your skin.

You ran your fingers through his hair lovingly, savouring this moment of intimacy between you. "I love you too," you replied softly. "More than words can say."

As the world outside faded away, you knew that this was just the beginning of a lifetime of love and passion with Taehyung by your side as you both fell asleep in each other’s embrace.

The day had finally come. You and Taehyung were ready to leave the village behind and embark on your long-awaited journey, you were ready to embrace the world beyond the shadows of Briarfield. But first, you had to say your goodbyes.

Your parents stood by the small, worn-down cottage that had been your home for as long as you could remember. The familiar creak of the door, the patches in the roof your father had mended over the years, the garden your mother tended to—it all felt so achingly nostalgic now. Your mother, tears already brimming in her eyes, reached out to hold your hands tightly.

“Oh, my sweet girl…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It feels like only yesterday you were a little child, running through the fields. And now, you are leaving us, off to see the world with your husband.”

You choked back your own tears as you wrapped your arms around her. “I will miss you, Mama. So much.”

Your mother pulled back slightly, cupping your face with her hands. “Promise me you will write when you can. Tell me about all the places you visit and the adventures you have. I want to hear every detail.”

“I promise,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your father, though not an emotional man, could not hide the tears in his eyes. He stepped forward, pulling you into a tight embrace. “You’ve always been strong,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I am proud of you for choosing your own path. But remember, no matter how far you go, this will always be your home.”

You nodded against his chest, feeling the warmth of his familiar embrace one last time. When he pulled away, your father’s gaze shifted to Taehyung, who stood respectfully nearby, watching the exchange with a soft smile.

“Take care of her,” your father said, his voice turning more firm, though still gentle. “She’s everything to us.”

Taehyung stepped forward, his eyes full of sincerity. He took your father’s hand in his, shaking it firmly. “I will. You have my word, sir. I will keep her safe and do everything I can to make her happy.”

Your father’s expression softened, and with a nod, he stepped back to allow you both to continue your farewells.

Taehyung turned to your mother, bowing slightly out of respect. She took his hands in hers and said, “Thank you for bringing light into her life. I can see how much you care for her.”

“I love her with all my heart,” Taehyung replied softly, his voice steady. “And I promise to cherish her, always.”

Your mother smiled through her tears before she let him go.

With the goodbyes said, you and Taehyung turned toward his small carriage carrying all your packed belongings and some of Taehyung’s wares. But before you could take another step, Taehyung gently tugged you back, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you softly on the forehead. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice full of warmth and affection.

You nodded, though tears brimmed in your eyes. “As long as you’re with me.”

He smiled and took your hand in his, lifting it to his lips for a gentle kiss. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, but this time, it was not from the cold, it was from the love that seemed to radiate from him in waves. “Together,” he whispered.

As the carriage started to move, Taehyung navigating it, you gazed at your surroundings, watching Briarfield slowly disappear behind a veil of mist and trees. A small part of your heart ached with the weight of leaving everything familiar behind, your parents, your home, the village where you had grown up—but you were also excited to finally see world beyond the once gloomy village.

He noticed the faraway look in your eyes and gently squeezed your hand. "You know," he said softly, "this isn’t goodbye forever. We will visit your parents soon. Perhaps once we've settled a bit, we can come back and spend time with them during our travels."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with gratitude and relief. "You’d really do that? Even after everything?"

"Of course," Taehyung said, smiling. "I know how much they mean to you, and they’ve welcomed me like family. I want to make sure you never feel like you’ve truly left them behind."

His words brought comfort, and you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder as the carriage rolled steadily along. Outside, the landscape was changing from the familiar fields and woods of Briarfield to new horizons.

With that, the two of you settled into a peaceful silence, your hands intertwined as the carriage carried you toward the future.

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