#[SOUNDS OF ME SCREECHING SOMEWHERE IN THE DISTANCE]

[bylertruther]

what if vecna projected himself as henry to talk to will. we know he can make himself look like other people bc he did it in max's mind so what if he did it to will in order to manipulate him more convincingly

i would have two simultaneous reactions:

1) WILL BABY GET BEHIND ME

2)

[vngelicc]

animal farm. ☆ j.jk + k.th

⋆ TAGS — dark!tae + jk, morals are zero bc it’s the apocalypse, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, TW: non-con to dub-con as oc adapts to survive, captivity, breeding kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampies, pregnant sex, fingering, creepy sleazy!tae, yandere elements, open-ending beware it’s not a good one, angst, death (just the zombies lol), jk’s a hunky daddy, possessive tae and jk, obsession, somnophilia, mentioned abortion, “fuck them kids” - oc, debatable happy ending, misogyny and objectification, outdoor sex(?), thigh fucking, mentioned/hints of body dysmorphia bc oc DOES NOT want to be pregnant

⋆ WORD COUNT — 13.3k

⋆ now playing: animal farm - bibi ⋆

You’re not sure how much time has passed since the outbreak—days, months, years—time was a relatively foreign concept, all that was left was to survive. Didn’t matter what day of the week it was or whether it was night or day, the days were all the same in the end.

The day it happened started like any other day: you woke to a flurry of messages wishing you happy birthday, and you were greeted by the sight of your pup running around in excitement as you prepared for the day. You were going to work a short shift that day (courtesy of your boss) all your co-workers had pitched in to buy you a nice cake from the bakery down the street. Your mom even promised to call you later on given the distance between you and her.

Everything was just as you remembered—a blue sky, people commuting, the sounds of traffic—it was just another regular day. After work you stopped to buy a bottle of wine, too busy chatting with the cashier to notice the storm of police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks passing by. The rest of the way home you listened to music, blissfully unaware of the nearby fires and rising smoky black skies.

Night came, prepared a delicious pasta and served a rather large serving of wine. Your dog sat by the front door the entire time, posture stiff and tail straight as he stared at seemingly nothing. That should have been the first sign.. After setting the pasta aside to cool your phone rang and you smiled. “Mom-”

“Listen to me,” she sounded desperate, “do NOT go outside, no matter what you hear or see y/n, STAY INSIDE.” She bites out in a fearful tone, “Your father and I are going to try and head over there, for the love of God please stay inside.”

“Mom, what's happening? Is everything okay? Are you and dad oka-” Suddenly the sound of a nearby building blowing up makes you jump. Your apartment rattles and you lose your balance, falling over as the phone slides away from you, “Mom?!” You scramble to your feet and run to the windows, yanking them all the way back to reveal the chaos unfolding..

The world around you is in flames, people are running and cars are being crashed or abandoned. You see helicopters storming the sky all around, endless police cars are scattered below your apartment and you hear the sounds of gunshots from every direction. Your eyes widen in horror as a plane comes crashing down somewhere downtown, and then more screams erupt alongside a few rather..inhuman sounds.

“y/n?! y/n?!” You snap your attention back to the fallen phone.

“M-Mom?” You crouch down and pick up the phone, “What’s happening?” You tearfully whisper. You hear the same chaos unfolding on the other side of the line, your dad is yelling something in the background while your mom tries to tell you a bunch of things all at once.

“Oh my sweet girl,” she softly whispers in a wobbly tone, “we love you so much, never forget that.” You hear a gunshot and your dad yelling some more, “Get to your uncle,” she cuts off by a loud screeching noise, “we’ll meet you there—!” She gasps as the screeching turns into animalistic noises, “Never forget—we love you.” The line cuts dead. You stand there in complete silence with an endless flow of tears streaming down your face.

The wine and pasta sat cold all night, then the night after that, and after that. If you were to go back there you’d probably see what was left of your apartment, most likely scavenged and destroyed by either survivors or whatever the hell those things were.

And to think that it had been just another random day..

You never did get to see your parents. You wondered if they died on their way to the farm or if they never stood a chance leaving in the first place. You like to believe they’re out there somewhere safe, that they found refuge with other groups far away from chaos. Like your father had once said: you keep finding something to fight for.

And that’s what you intended.

+

“Dammit.” You whispered under your breath while pushing through the endless shrubs and tree branches in your way.

By now every city was covered from head to toe in vines and other plant life. Apart from the obvious decay everything would have looked normal if it weren’t for the fact that there was a darkness lingering in the shadows. Cars, bikes, and trucks were scattered around, sitting as a reminder of the way things were once. It played like a bittersweet memory in the back of your mind as you pushed forward.

You brushed your hands over the front of your shorts and looked around the area. It was quiet all around with the only sounds being the wind blowing the overgrown grass all around. You had finally made it to Daegu after walking for two months straight. Your body ached and you were sure your feet had blisters from all the walking (occasional running) you did.

A few times (more than you would like to admit) you reached a breaking point where you wanted nothing more than to give up and go back to your uncle’s farm. Yet somehow some-way you would regain your strength and keep pushing—for family. It’s how you ended up all the way down in Daegu, just another month or two (maybe three) away from Busan.

You were far too deep to stop now.

You uncapped your water jug and took greedy sips as the water ran down your chin and throat. “That’s better.” You murmur softly as your parched throat absorbs every last drop of the water. You take a second to sit down on a nearby rock to bring your map out.

“Okay.. If I’m here,” you trail off while running your finger over the lines of the map, “then that means I go this way..and turn here to—” You immerse yourself in your own thoughts, ignoring the sound of your stomach growling. You shift from side to side, ignoring the heavy weight of your shotgun tucked away in your backpack, sticking out like a sore thumb.

So far you didn’t need to use the gun (yet), your encounters with those unruly beasts were minimal since they had taken to hiding in buildings. Crazed survivors were unlikely, most were hidden away too and if they were out you simply snuck past them until you felt like you could breathe again. You’d say you were doing a pretty damn good job at conserving your ammo etc.

“Alright,” you sigh heavily and put your map away, “up I go.” You mumble and start heading down the grassy street, just looking all over the area. You always did want to visit Daegu, guess it was your lucky day.

The street comes to a dead end as you stop in front of two tilted buildings crashed into each other with endless rubble surrounding the area. “Just my luck,” you groan out, seeing as there isn’t another option as you hop up the rubble, making your way into the dark desolate building.

With every step you take your heart begins beating faster, chances that those things are swarming the building are high. Your heart drops even more when you realize that the only way out that was straight ahead of you is blocked off by debris. You stop in the middle of the room, looking up as you inhale deeply.

“Only way out is going up then..” You mutter and grab your flashlight.

Everything is silent around you save for the drops of water hitting the ground and echoing off the empty halls. You work your way around the decaying bodies and thrown furniture surrounding the halls. Finding another way out of the building was something you had not planned on doing, but it seemed like you were going to have to get to higher ground to scope the surroundings out for an exit.

“Ah-ha,” you light up when you realize this building has balconies. A triumphant smile forms on your lips as you head up a small flight of stairs to reach the next floor where the balconies were located. You kept a close eye and ear out for any strange movements, you weren’t alone after all.

As you move to step over a piece of debris, suddenly a large part of the ground rumbles before breaking off and falling through the second floor. Your entire body goes still. You begin breathing heavily as you shakily reach for the shotgun in your backpack. Seconds of silence pass, you stand there with the shotgun in your hands and your face twisted in fear.

Nothing happens until you hear it..

A low faint croaking sound—click, click, click—there’s soft thuds as the creature moves around, getting closer and closer. You’re too scared to turn around or even make a sound. The floor behind you creaks and the creature gets closer, idly squeaking and croaking. Your only mistake is letting out a fearful breath, because suddenly the creature stops and screeches loudly, lunging at you at full speed.

You take off down the hall, pushing past the stone and rubble with the damned thing hot on your heels. Right as you think it’s about to snatch you right up with its bubbly deteriorating arms, an arm lunges out and yanks you into a room pressing you right up against the wall. You flinch violently and stare at the mysterious person in front of you, you can’t help but tremble as you open your mouth.

The stranger gives you a pointed look, slamming his hand over your mouth as he presses himself tight against you, “If you don’t wanna end up dead just sit the fuck still and be quiet,” he harshly whispers while looking out the corner of his eye to see if the creature is still after you.

Your grip on your shotgun loosens, you both stare at each other in silence as the creature stops outside of the room, croaking as it looks for you. When the thing comes close by the open doorway you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath. It doesn’t go away for another few minutes, when it does it ventures into another room across the hall, its noises slowly fading away until it’s fully gone.

The guy lifts a finger over his mouth and softly makes a “shh” sound. You nod slowly and he slowly lifts his hand off, “Follow me,” he quietly mutters and grabs your hand. You don’t even struggle as he leads you far away from the room, and out some doors that lead to a fire escape. “Careful, the metals all worn out. Don’t need you fallin’ on me.” He says as he begins climbing down.

You stand there quietly trying to think if it’s a good idea to follow this guy. Probably not but you were the one with the gun here, not him. “You coming or what?” He says in annoyance, already halfway down the ladders.

You snap out of it and quickly follow, “Yeah, yeah.” You softly whisper.

When you reach the last set of ladders the stranger is already waiting for you down on the ground, he watches you silently with no expression on his face. “C’mere,” he holds his arms out, “I’ll catch you.” You shouldn’t be so trusting but for some reason you just let yourself fall into his arms. A quiet yelp escapes your lips as you curl into yourself out of fear, “Relax, scary part’s over.” He lets out a deep chuckle.

“T-Thank you,” you mutter, still shaken up over the incident, “I really appreciate what you did back there, I haven’t seen those things since this entire thing started. I guess I wasn’t so prepared to go against one up close like that,” you mutter while kicking a rock around.

He shrugs, “I don’t think anyone can ever be prepared to face off against one of those things.” He sighs while looking around, “You got somewhere you gotta be or you just like wandering into abandoned buildings in your free time?” He shoves his hands into his pockets, a small grin grazing his lips.

It’s not the best idea to ever tell a stranger where you’re going especially given the situation the entire world is in. “I was just trying to scavenge,” you finally say after a few seconds, “I was running out of a few things so I decided to get some air while I was out.” You can’t keep eye contact with him for the love of your own life. His gaze is pretty intense and he seemed like the type of person who kept eye contact throughout an entire conversation.

“Ah,” he nods, “I was too, but then I heard the commotion and decided to see what was up, and you were there.” He chuckles, “Kim Taehyung.” He holds his hand out.

“y/n.” You reply softly and take his much bigger hand into yours, “Well, I think I’ll be going now. Can’t keep my group waiting.” You trail off nervously when his grip tightens instead of letting you go, “Um, Taehyung..? My hand?” You whisper out.

Taehyung hums, “It’s getting pretty late isn’t it? Sun down is around the corner and well, it doesn’t seem pretty ideal to walk around all by yourself in the dark now is it?” He tilts his head.

He’s right, you can see the sun start to set slowly and the world around you is painted in a dark orange-yellow hue. Your little lie wasn’t going to keep up much longer if he decides to walk you to your “group”. You nod slowly, “Yeah.. I guess so.” You rub the side of your arm as a chilly breeze sweeps over the both of you.

“Wanna come back with me to my place? Not far, just a ten minute walk from here, even got working water and electricity.” You perk up at the last two things which ends up making him laugh, “Yeah I know, you’ll see what I mean.” He begins pulling you along with him, hand wrapped tightly around your wrist.

“I wouldn’t wanna intrude or anything,” you quickly say, “I can just go back to my group, ‘s not a problem really.” You wince a little when his grip begins to become painful.

Taehyung shakes his head, “ ‘s not safe out here at night, just stop being stubborn will you? You looked ready to give up back there with just one of those things, now imagine dozens?” He chuckles humorlessly with his head still turned away, you sigh quietly and go limp finding it no use to fight back because he clearly wasn’t going to let you go which in itself looked like an entire red flag.

He leads you to another building, you notice the slight change in temperature when you walk into the darkened lobby, it’s slightly warmer.. “How did you get the electricity to work?” You wonder out loud while looking around.

“Turns out the power generator wasn’t completely ruined, wasn’t very hard to get it going again and well, now we have working water and electricity.” He shrugs while guiding you down the hall and stopping in front of a door.

You frown in confusion, “We?” You tilt your head, “There’s someone else?” Oh this wasn’t what you were expecting, now you had to stay alert for not only Taehyung but his fucking friend too.

“Yeah, Jungkook.” He says like nothing while punching in the keycode, “He’s one of the guys I met when this all happened, we stayed together—no not like that,” he chuckles, “he’s a good friend of mine.” He gives you a bright smile before pushing the door open.

You’re hit with warmth and light, the entire room is lit up and you can smell something cooking in the kitchen. This makes you reminisce about the past when you would be coming home after a long day at work, cooking something up and unwinding with your pup on the couch. Your heart twists bitterly as you clutch your backpack closer, you hear noises come from the kitchen and you turn your head in alarm.

“Relax, that’s Jungkook.” Taehyung chuckles as he guides you into the living room with his hands over your shoulders, “Jungkook, this is y/n and y/n, Jungkook.” He cheerfully introduces you two like you’re longtime friends or something, “I saved her from a clicker just now.” He briefly says to Jungkook.

Jungkook gives you one good look, dark eyes trailing over you before he turns his back, “You guys hungry?” He breaks the tension in the room, it has you sagging in relief that he wasn’t rude or didn’t see you as a threat. “She looks like she’s seen better days, don’t be fucking rude Tae let her shower n shit the food is almost ready anyways.” He comments while shaking some spices into the food he was making.

“Oh shit, forgot about that. C’mere, bathroom’s this way.” Taehyung pushes you down another hall, “Hot water n everything so go crazy. Clean towel’s there, and you’re welcome to help yourself to anything in there. I have some extra razors, don’t know if you’d need them or anything I don’t know but yeah.” He smiles, “See you when you’re done.” He leaves after that.

You stand in the bathroom quietly for a few seconds, you don’t like the ugly little feeling you get in your tummy from being around these guys. You’re grateful and all but you can’t help the distrusting feeling you get. With a heavy sigh you set your things down and begin undressing out of your clothes. The water feels so amazing against your sore muscles, you stand under the shower just basking in the luxury of hot water with your eyes closed.

Cleanup goes fairly quickly, you helped yourself to one of the razors Taehyung mentioned to you and took your time in scrubbing the dirt and grime off of your body. Now that you think about it, it made sense earlier as to why Taehyung didn’t look dirty or anything. This explains a whooolleeee lot now.

“Hey y/n,” Taehyung calls out as the door opens, “Came to give you something.” He says like it’s no big deal at all while he enters the bathroom.

“T-Taehyung..!” You gasp in shock, throwing yourself into the corner of the shower while staring at the curtains in terror, “Whatever it is, can you just please drop it somewhere! Kinda not in the best situation right now,” you clutch the loofah close.

Taehyung laughs, “Calm down, I just came to give you an extra pair of clothes. Yours are kinda worn down no offense, it wouldn’t make sense to re-dress in nasty clothes after cleaning yourself now would it?” He says as he moves around the bathroom.

“Thanks..but um..can you…?” You trail off.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he breathily chuckles, “Jungkook says the food’s ready, see you out there.” He heads out. You wait for him to close the door but when you hear no sound you peek your head out of the corner of the curtain, “My bad,” Taehyung holds up your tattered clothes, “kinda cute that they got little bears all over them.” He motions to your underwear.

Your face heats up in embarrassment, “Stop looking!”

“I will!” Taehyung lets the door slip shut, his laughter fading as he disappears down the hall. You sigh in relief and let your back hit the wall, what the hell was even that? You were definitely going to be leaving ASAP with the way Taehyung seemed to lack boundaries with literally ANYTHING. First he was touchy and now he’s looking at your underwear shamelessly? That was a no-go.

“I swear I locked it..” You mutter while washing your hair.

After your hot shower you slip out and dry yourself with the towel, you were curious to see what clothes he brought you. You notice it’s a large black shirt and a pair of boxers sitting neatly folded on the counter. Better than nothing you guessed while dropping the towel and dressing yourself. The boxers fit like oversized shorts on you which you’re pretty glad for.

Your heart drops when you see that your backpack isn’t there anymore. A lot of things seem to be running through your mind all at once, was this the end? Were you going to die now? All because of a hot shower?

“Oh there you are,” Jungkook comments when you walk into the same room from before, he notices your panicked state and chuckles, “relax, Tae put your things over there by the door. He put your clothes to wash too.” He nods his head in the direction of the laundry room, “You hungry?” He holds up a bowl of hot food.

“Thank you..” You softly whisper while going over to sit at the table, your mouth waters at the sight of hot food, another luxury you couldn’t afford in this world after leaving your uncle’s home to go to Busan.

Jungkook eyes you appreciatively in his clothes as he sets the food down in front of you, “Glad to see they fit.” He comments, “You can start eating by the way, Tae’s gonna shower so it’ll be just us two til he gets back.” He lazily shrugs while sitting across from you.

He set out an array of side dishes like rice, kimchi, wood ear mushrooms and other stuff that looks really tasty. The two of you eat in silence with Jungkook humming occasionally at the taste or something like that. You don’t really want to talk much either so you’re grateful for the quietness between the two of you. The food is really amazing too, it fills your ravenous hunger you’ve had for the past week since running out of granola bars.

“So,” Jungkook leans back in his chair, “Tae says you’re a part of a group huh?” He tilts his head, “Kinda explains the shot gun n shit. Loads of ammo too.” He picks up a piece of meat and shoves it into his mouth.

“Yeah..” You mumble, “I was just scavenging, had to cross through the building n yeah that’s how me and Tae ran into each other—or more like him saving me.”

Jungkook nods, “Okay… so why don’t you tell me the real truth? No bullshitting either sweetheart, we’ve been here for how many years and never have we ever seen or heard of a group past that building or on our side.” He smirks, “C’mon, tell me. I don’t bite.”

You stare at him in awe and realization that you’ve been caught, “Fuck okay,” you sigh heavily, “Originally I was staying with my uncle in the outskirts of Suwon after the whole apocalypse happened, for years now I’ve been believing my parents are still alive and out there, problem is out there is literally all the way down in Busan,” you see him perk up at the mention of Busan, “so I’ve been walking ever since trying to get there to find them, they’re farmers, if they’re out there they’re probably still in the old farmhouse I grew up in.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” he nods, “I’m fuckin’ impressed you made it this far, shit not even me who was stranded Ulsan when this all happened.” He shakes his head, “Guess we all got something that keeps up goin’ huh.” He leans back in his chair with a hum.

You stare down at your food, “Yeah..” You whisper softly.

The silence is broken when Taehyung comes out of the hall, towel in his hair and a pair of low hanging sweats clinging over his hips as he whistles, “Looks good,” he says to Jungkook while taking a seat next to him, it’s only then you fully see that he’s not wearing a shirt at all. You turn your head slightly in embarrassment as Taehyung laughs, “What? Something on my face?”

“No you idiot, obviously someone you fucking just met wouldn’t wanna see you half naked ‘n shit you pervert.” Jungkook elbows his friend.

“I’m not though,” Taehyung snorts, “I’m sure she’s seen worse than this,” he shoots you a wink to which you hunch your shoulders together sheepishly.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “So did basic etiquette also fly out the window when the apocalypse happened or what?” Taehyung doesn’t reply anything because he’s too busy stuffing his face, Jungkook’s eyes land back on you and he sits up, “You look sleepy, you can take my room if you want I’ll sleep here,” he nods, “and before you panic I’ll take your backpack to you too.” He smirks.

You slump in your seat with a sigh, “Thanks..”

“No need.” Jungkook curtly replies and gets up as he brings your backpack over, “Follow me.” He treads down the hall with your things flung over his broad shoulder.

“G’Night pretty,” Taehyung grins with a wicked glint in his eyes as he looks at you up and down, “very fuckin’ pretty..” He chuckles quietly and goes back to eating.

You shiver, and not in the good way either. You follow Jungkook into another room, he’s already setting your things down and bringing out pillows, “I usually sleep without one but here’s some I had in my closet,” he sets them down, “not that there’s much to steal but please don’t take my shit. I trust you.” He gives you a firm pat, squeezing your waist as he slips by you.

“Thank..you..?” You turn to watch him.

“Yeah, yeah no funny business. Night sweetheart.” He lets the door slip shut quietly.

The first thing you do is lock it, making sure the door is jammed before you take one of his chairs he had and press it right up against the knob. When you feel like no one can enter you finally slip into the comfy bed, groaning in relief as your sore body slumps into the sheets. It’s been so long since you’ve had a proper bed to lay in. You roll around before curling over a pillow and hugging it tight to your chest.

Your tired eyes slip shut and you fall asleep comfortably for the first time in ages.

+

You pry your eyes open when a beam of sunlight hits you across your face. At first you’re confused and disoriented but then everything that happened to you yesterday comes down as you recap quickly. You slowly sit up with a loud yawn, looking around the room in daze. Everything is as you left it, and the chair is still propped up against the door.

“Time is it..” You mutter and look around. You find a clock on the wall and squint your eyes to read the time. “Oh,” it’s noon. You shuffle out of bed despite your limbs protesting as you look around for your things, you had an extra change of clothes in your backpack anyways so getting your old clothes was not a issue.

The weather as of lately has been pretty bipolar, hot or breezy so you never knew what to expect. You figured it was springtime anyways. You dressed in a loose white flower printed camisole, another pair of brown shorts over black tights and managed to slip your boots back on.

“Alright,” you bring out your map and check the streets etc, “took me here..so now we go this way,” you mutter quietly while reading the map. You had made sure to catch the name of the building before entering last night. That way it would be easier when leaving. “Okay.” You smile and fold the map back up.

You step out of the room with your belongings on your back, treading down the hall quietly as you come across Taehyung and Jungkook setting the table, “Oh you’re awake.” Jungkook says as his eyes drop to your hands where you’re clutching the straps of your backpack.

Taehyung pauses and turns to look too, “Oh…” He trails off, visibly upset that you’re already going. “ ‘s pretty dangerous out there.” He comments with a blank look.

“I’ll find a way.” You reply curtly, “I appreciate you guys letting me stay the night but I really have to go now. Thank you.” You bow in appreciation, Jungkook doesn’t say anything and instead Taehyung makes his way over to stand in front of you.

“At least stay for breakfast yeah? C’mon there’s no harm in that.” Taehyung pleads while setting a bowl down on the table, “Plus, why would you even wanna go? Those things are still out there, they’ll tear you apart the first chance they get. Just stay, yeah?” It’s no longer, stay for breakfast, rather Taehyung is now openly begging you to stay.

Your breath hitches when you see his hand come up to touch your shoulder, you jerk away and take a step back, “I’m leaving Taehyung, thank you from the bottom of my heart but I’ll be fine.” You say firmly while stepping past him.

Jungkook calmly stands there with his arms over his chest, he looks down at you and hums, “You’re not leaving sweetheart,” he calmly says, “why don’t you get that backpack off and sit down so we can all eat together.”

When it becomes apparent they have no intention of letting you leave you snap, “Get away from me!” You shove Jungkook as hard as you possibly can, watching him stumble out of shock as you duck past him and slam the front door open.

“y/n get back here!” Taehyung yells out.

You don’t waste another second and run down to the exit, kicking the door open and heading down the street towards the way you were supposed to go. Adrenaline kicks in like never before as you whip your head back occasionally to see if they’re following. You’re pretty far when you notice Jungkook and Taehyung exiting out the building looking both ways before they see you and start running.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper while jumping over fallen things and rocks.

They’re yelling a bunch of shit that you don’t care about, your main focus is to get the hell away from them. You duck into a building, taking note that it’s a mall as you manage to run up the escalator. “She went in here!” Taehyung says not far behind.

You hear their heavy footsteps as they run up the steps too. You see a rack sitting there so you throw it down and keep pushing forward. Jungkook curses loudly while he and Tae push through the mess on the ground. You see a clothing shop with a half-closed metal overhead door as you fall to the ground and slip under it to the other side.

The crawlspace was small enough for you, you’re confident Taehyung and Jungkook were going to have to pry it open (if they even could) to follow you. “Shit,” you hear Taehyung, “she went through here.”

“Move.” Jungkook reaches to yank at the door.

Your eyes widen in horror when you hear the door creak, showing signs that it would in fact be opening up more. You run to the back of the store, barreling in as you look around for a exit only to find that you’re in a simple storage room. There was no other exit, the mall in fact must not even have those backroom exits.

Your eyes tear up as you shakily back up into the wall with no other choice but to bring out your shotgun and aim it at the door. You hear nothing but your fast breathing and pounding heart in your ears. Any moment now… Your finger curled over the trigger as you bounced your knee in anticipation.

A beat passes before the door suddenly slams open, hitting the wall full force as Jungkook comes barreling in. You jump in absolute fear, aiming blindly as you pull the trigger. “Oh shit!” Taehyung yells, he doesn’t bother entering the room at first as he ducks to the side of the doorway after the bullet grazes the wall next to the doorway.

Jungkook yells something you can’t really make out through the ringing in your ears from the deafening noise. He wrestles the shotgun out of your hands, tossing it to the corner far away from you both. “Hey, hey,” he loudly curses, “calm down will you?!” He grunts.

Taehyung slips into the room and comes over to pin you down, “Shh, shh, we’re here now y/n,” he says as he leans down to nose along your shoulder and neck, “ ‘s safe with us.” He whispers in his deep baritone voice.

The fear combined with the stress (and adrenaline) of the situation sends you into a full blown panic attack. Your vision begins getting spotty and you feel like you’re on the verge of passing out. Probably from how malnourished you were given that the past few weeks you’ve been surviving on one granola bar every week.

You yell and twist around, loud sobs pouring from your lips as you thrash endlessly. “N-No! Please! Let me go,” you hiccup through your tears, “stop it,” the fight begins slowly draining out of you. They coo and murmur deceivingly sweet things in your ear, their hands roam all over your body while you lay there limp. “P..lease..” You quietly plead one last time before the world around you begins to fade.

“I’ve got you baby, don’t you worry. Never gonna let you outta my sight,” Taehyung whispers, “....s.afe..with us.” You manage to hear right before losing consciousness.

+

5 months later..

Everyday waking up felt more like a chore and the only time you ever found yourself looking forward to something was going to sleep. Sleeping was like some sort of escape from reality where you would find yourself dreaming of the day you reunite with your parents. Another dream you frequently had was you being back at your uncle’s farm living day by day in utter peace surrounded by the people you loved.

It was a pretty memory that would be ruined the moment you woke up to find either Taehyung or Jungkook over you.

They were like animals, they had no self control and acted like a bunch of hormonal teens around you. Taehyung especially, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off nor his pants on. You lost track of the days inbetween sleeping or them fucking you like no tommorrow. Waking up sore between your legs or with cum dripping from your gaping pussy was a familiar feeling.

Taehyung was the more shameless one between the two. He’d fuck you almost every chance he got with his hands never straying from your body for more than two minutes whenever he was around you. He kept you chained in his room by the ankle on his bed wearing nothing but his shirt and those bear printed panties you came to hate. They were ruined the minute he’d lay with you, hand stuffed deep inside and his long slender fingers buried knuckle deep in your soaked pussy.

You hated that your body responded very well to his touches, hell you’d even slick up to the sound of him entering the room with the amount of times he fucked you or had his hands on you. Taehyung’s mouth was even filthier with the amount of shit he said in that husky tone whenever he had you pinned under him—knees pressed to your shoulders as he folded you in half and punched his cock deep inside your bruised cunt.

“Just needed a cock in you pretty, didn’t you,” he’d whisper while grinding his hips in slow circles with his cock rubbing up against every crevice of your pussy, his balls pressed tight against your ass as low squelching noises filled the quiet bedroom.

Jungkook was used to the sounds of the headboard banging or bed creaking against the wooden floor. He’d lay awake in his own room with a hand wrapped tight against his cock while he listened to you cry and mewl in pleasure. Other times he’d walk into the room just to see Taehyung balls deep in you with your legs spread wide and a string of white creaminess sticking to Taehyung’s pelvis and cock whenever he pulled out of your messy pussy.

At the moment you were curled into your side, balling up under the warm sheets as you tried to find more sleep. After a few more minutes of tossing and turning you begrudgingly accepted that you weren’t going to be getting any more sleep. Your puffy eyes cracked open as you stared over at the window. The curtains were closed but from the tiny corner you could see that it was night time already.

Taehyung and Jungkook had yet to come back, they said something about getting some things they needed from the mall. A tiny part of you wished they wouldn’t come back though. Maybe they’d be ambushed by those things and eaten alive (your biggest fantasy was them getting their cocks ripped off for what they’ve done to you). You could only dream, you sigh wistfully.

You sit up in bed and look around the dark room, there’s nothing much to do so you end up doodling in your sketchbook for a bit before laying back down just dreading the arrival of your captors. They get back around midnight, a little over an hour after you had woken up. Your eyes are slipped shut as you try to fall back asleep, and right when your body and mind both shut down the door is opened.

Taehyung comes in silently, humming under his breath as he sets some bags down on the ground. You don’t pay much attention, just curling into yourself with closed eyes while he goes about with whatever the hell he’s doing. The sound of Taehyung unbuckling his belt is enough to have your pussy throbbing, already slicking up for what’s about to come. He shuffles around and slips his shirt off, and then his pants.

The bed dips low and creaks under his weight when he climbs in next to you. You squeeze your eyes tight and try to breathe normally. Taehyung’s hand falls on your thigh and rubs over the soft skin slowly, each time going higher and higher until he’s playing with the waistband of your underwear. Your skin prickles all over with goosebumps as he quietly laughs under his breath.

“Look so pretty like this,” he mumbles while leaning in to hide his face in your neck, “bet your little pussy’s all wet for me too..” He dips his fingers in and slides them through your chubby folds, “Fuckin’ soaked—got you waiting for this cock huh?” He circles his fingers over your wet clit, “C’mon pretty, open up for me. Know you’re awake,” he rasps out and rubs faster.

You breathily sigh and fall into the bed pliantly while he plays with your clit between his long slender fingers. Taehyung slips his fingers between your dewy sticky folds, going right over your greedy hole. It clenches around nothing and you wait with a bated breath for him to slip them inside.

“Hear that baby?” Taehyung whispers as his lips slide over your neck and suck on a particular spot, “Messy little thing you are,” he comments while pressing his crotch over your ass and letting you feel the hard print of his swelling cock from inside his boxers, “don’t worry though—not gonna be empty for long, gonna fill you up and give it to you real good pretty.” He rasps out.

He rolls his hips in the tiniest of circles, letting out deep sighs and grunts while he plays with your pussy with one hand and the other grips your ass cheek. He squeezes the doughy cheek and pulls it apart to expose your puckered hole, “Gonna fuck you here too one day,” he rolls his hips more insistently, “gonna make all your pretty holes mine.”

You bite back a mewl when his thumb flicks over your clit in rapid sweeping motions, it has you grinding into his hand and simultaneously pushing back on his hard cock. You feel it slot between your cheeks—hot and throbbing—as it slides over the rim of your asshole. You weakly clench down on nothing, pussy pathetically spewing more slick and dribbling between your silky folds.

“One day,” he mutters, “not now.” Taehyung reaches up to steady you by the hip. You hear shuffling in the back as Taehyung kicks his boxers off, letting the dampened material fall to the ground. His hands are on you in a heartbeat, he racks the oversized shirt you’re wearing up around your waist and tugs at your panties with two fingers. “Open a little wider for me pretty—there you go, that’s it.” He purrs.

Taehyung wraps a hand around the back of your knee and holds it up as he lifts your leg into the air. You bite your lip and turn your face into the pillow to hide in, “Keep it up here for me,” he murmurs while letting go.

You can hear him fist his cock from behind you as he takes his cock and slaps it over your folds repeatedly. “Fuck,” he sighs almost dreamily while positioning the mushroomy tip at your clenched hole, “relax n let me in baby, good girl.” He murmurs while kicking his hips forward and pushing his cock into you.

Your lips part in a small ‘o’, no noise escaping as he fills you inch for inch with his heavy fat cock. This spooning position does nothing but make you aware just how big his cock is, you feel fucking stuffed and full of him with the rim of your pussy stretching a bit painfully to accommodate him. Taehyung releases a low growl and shoves himself into you impatiently. His hips smack against your ass with a loud squelch.

“Shit…” He sighs out like he’s relieved to be buried deep inside you, he shifts around and presses himself closer to you. You feel him drape himself over your back with his face buried in the junction of your neck and shoulder. He breathes your scent in and moans quietly while circling his hips slowly, cock shifting from side to side inside of you.

“God you feel so good,” he whispers as his hand grips your hip tight, “don’t think I’ll ever get used to fuckin’ this pussy.” He moans once more and presses in.

You double over and fist the pillow you’re laying on tightly, you can feel his hot thick balls press snug against your ass with each grind and thrust. Taehyung’s busy sucking marks into the back of your neck, he rolls his hips smoothly and occasionally bottoms out and presses into you deeply. His cock reemerges drenched in copious amounts of slick, the noise it makes is filthy as he pushes in deep.

“Shit, like that.” He moves faster, humping into you in quick little rolls as your cheeks smack against his pelvis repeatedly.

Your mouth opens and you quietly pant into the hot pillow, ears burning when you hear the squelching and the sound of his balls connecting to your ass from where they swing. Taehyung moans into your ear and slips his hand down your front to spread your pussy apart in a ‘V’ shape, “C’mon baby, play with yourself.” He huffs.

Most likely if you don’t do it he will so you slip your hand down and circle your clit with your fingers. You rub in circular motions, matching the speed of his thrusts. You can’t help the strangled moan that you let out because he pairs this with perfectly aimed thrusts, cockhead brushing over your g-spot repeatedly. The noises you held in begin spilling from your lips, you whimper and whine quietly while laying three fingers over your clit and rubbing side to side quickly.

“You gonna cum baby?” Taehyung gasps, “Can feel you getting tighter,” he grunts while smacking his hips into yours harder.

You throw your head back on his shoulder and gasp loudly when his cock bumps into your cervix. It hurts but the pain blends easily with the pleasure. Taehyung digs his fingernails into your side and tightly holds on to you while fucking into your pussy harshly. The slapping noises fill the entire room, the sheets shift and the bed rocks into the wall from the force of his thrusts.

“W-Wait,” you gasp breathlessly while your pussy squeezes tight, “fuck—Tae-hyung..!” A garbled cry escapes your lips as your pussy floods wetly, you cum with a high pitched cry while burying your face into his pillow—body shaking like a newborn lamb.

Taehyung hisses and quickly rolls his hips, driving his swollen cock into you over and over again like it’s the last time. He lands a tiny slap over your pussy causing you to cry out in oversensitivity. “Oh shit,” he gasps and slams into you three times before coming to a stop and riding the rest of his orgasm out with tiny grinds. He milks his cock out with a long sigh, pressing in to make sure none of it slips out.

You’re left laying there panting harshly while he warms his cock with your cunt. Only when his cock softens does he let it slip out with a nasty squelch. You can feel a sticky trail of slick and cum bubble between your folds, a small string still connected to his flaccid cock. “So messy,” he mutters while rolling out of bed to bring back a towel.

You stare at the wall with disoriented eyes and a wet ass/pussy.

The very next morning over breakfast Taehyung tells you about a surprise he has for you. You’re suspicious as hell but go along with it and wait patiently for him to give you his “gift”. Nothing good ever comes from him so you’re pretty sure this gift is something more for them than it is for you. When he pulls it out you mentally sigh, proven right.

“Aren’t these pretty?” Taehyung grins while showing off the pretty dresses, “I found ‘em in that store from last time and thought they’d look good on you.” He licks his lips, “Try ‘em on.” He’s not asking, he’s telling you.

You begrudgingly change into one, noting how short it is given that it ends right under your ass. You stand there and let out a deep sigh, “This is the worst..” You mutter while fixing the straps.

“You comin’ out yet pretty?” Taehyung calls out.

“Fucking hell, can’t you wait.” You angrily tug the dress down and unlock the door, “I’m going.” You roll your eyes and walk out of the hallway and to them.

Their eyes naturally shift lower, staring shamelessly as they lick their lips hungrily. “Fits like a glove.” Jungkook nods, “Do a little spin for me sweetheart,” he sits back and man spreads on the couch, “slowly.” His eyes drop down to your exposed thighs.

You slowly turn in a circle stopping when they ask you to. Taehyung whistles lowly while Jungkook hums in appreciation, “Maybe these pretty little dresses are the only thing you should wear around the house, makes you look like a pretty little housewife.” He chuckles.

“She does, doesn't she? If it were up to me she’d be my little housewife walking around with nothin’ underneath leaking with cum and a pussy stuffed full.” Taehyung’s eyes stay glued to your tits where they push against the dress, smushed together from how tight that area was.

“Pretty little thing was made for it.” Jungkook nods with a low hum. You’ve never felt less human.

That night, Jungkook brings you to his room and has you slip on another one of the dresses Taehyung got you. Except this one literally leaves your entire ass hanging out no matter how much you tug on it. It’s a silky dress embroidered with lace and frills, you know you’re not going to stand a chance. He’s already looking at you like he wants to eat you, he lays there with an arm behind his head on the bed, just ogling you in appreciation as you change.

It’s over the moment you turn around. Jungkook quite literally throws you on the bed and pins you down under his hard, heavy body. He wastes no time in pushing the dress up and pinning you with your knees touching your shoulders. His pace is frantic and hard, thighs smacking and balls smacking into you as he fucks like a madman.

The bed violently hits the wall and creaks loudly under the weight of you two. He really has you crying and screaming in pleasure from how rough he was with you. His own grunts and moans rising in volume to match yours. He fucks orgasm after orgasm out of you, each time hurting a little more from how sensitive you were. Your cunt’s rubbed raw, glistening with precum mixed with your slick as a ring of white forms around the base of Jungkook’s cock. Some of his creamy cum drips down between your ass cheeks and on to the rim of your puckered hole. It splatters a little when his balls collide with your ass, staining both him and the bed sheets.

The room’s hot, it stinks with sex as Jungkook fucks you over and over again on the bed. You mewl shakily and kick your dangling feet in the air when he rolls you two over the edge of the bed, your head hangs as he buries himself deep in your pussy and grinds in quick motions. Jungkook has either arm beside your head, caging you in as he watches your expressions with hooded eyes.

“Fuck.” Jungkook bites his lip and moves faster, “Look so goddamn perfect, gonna have this little cunt bred by the end of the night. You’d like that wouldn’t you baby—to be stuffed with my cum dripping?” He breathlessly asks, brow pinched in concentration as he rolls his hips.

When you don’t answer he lands a smack across your ass, tightly squeezing it in his hand afterwards. You mewl quietly and nod, “Answer me baby, wanna hear it from your sweet little lips.” He growls and lands another smack.

You hiccup and sob softly, “Y-Yes..! W-Wanna you to fill me up.” Your toes curl as you shudder when his cock hits your g-spot. All this movement and your head hanging quickly has you recoiling in dizziness as he jostles you.

Jungkook moves his hands and falls into you with your chest pressed to his. He wraps his hands around both of your ass cheeks and grips them tightly while pumping his cock in and out of you. Your thighs tremble in anticipation, cunt greedily swallowing him as low wet smacking noises begin to grow louder.

“Gonna cum sweetheart,” he rasps out with sweat dripping from his brow, “shit—so fuckin’ tight.” He shudders while leaning into you.

Your arms shakily wrap around his shoulders as you hug him tightly, sobbing when his pelvis glides over your clit and traps the sensitive bud between you and him. He fucks in quick thrusts, cock punching in and out of your creamy pussy. You lay there whining quietly as he uses you to get off. His moans turn breathier and quiet until he stops and goes silent.

His cock throbs and twitches, hot cum painting your pussy white as he empties himself in you. Jungkook lets out a ragged groan as he finally stops coming, he tiredly lays himself over you and pants, swallowing quietly as he tries to catch his breath. You didn’t cum again but you’re fine, it would have hurt anyway.

“Shit.” He mumbles as he rolls off of you lays side by side, staring up at the ceiling with his wet cock hanging out all bare without a single care in the world. You shakily roll to your side and curl up.

You knew these damn dresses were gonna be trouble..

+

Something’s off…very off.

For almost a week now you’ve been getting sick and throwing up meal after meal, maybe they were poisoning and finally putting you out of your misery. You wished.. You were sleeping way more than usual and everything just hurt more, even sex—not that it didn’t hurt before but suddenly your clit was too rubbed raw to touch and penetration was starting to hurt and ache? Something was very wrong and they knew it too.

“You think it’s the food?” Taehyung asks while sitting at the table with you and Jungkook, they often talk like you aren’t even there at times. “Or like maybe it’s the flu or something, been finding the window left open at night, could be that she got some air.”

Jungkook eyes you in worry, “I don’t think so Tae, she barely even has anything in her stomach to begin with and she keeps puking her guts out.” He sighs deeply, “y/n baby, how long has this been going on for hm? Weeks?”

You shrug and stare down at the hot food on your plate, “I dunno, not really hungry though.. Just wanna sleep.”

Taehyung frowns, “You need to eat something, wait—maybe she’s on her period or something and it’s probably hitting her really hard. Are you?” He turns to look at you as he waits patiently for your answer.

You open your mouth to say no but then sit there in shock, period.. When was the last time you even had one? Your heart begins pounding as you try to think back to your last cycle, sure you didn’t think about it too often but still it was something you kept track of so things didn’t get super messy in the middle of your travels. They call your name three times before you finally look up at them.

“I haven’t gotten a period.” You whispered, “Last I remember was I think a month ago, wait no I think two..” You begin shaking in your seat, this means one thing for sure.. You look up at them, they’re both sporting surprised looks but Taehyung’s face quickly morphs into one of excitement and happiness.

“So that means..” Taehyung grins, “ ‘s my baby,” he proudly claims, “must’ve knocked her up real good.” He chuckles quietly, dodging Jungkook’s hit, “What?? She’s the one who sleeps in my bed more than you! You’re just jealous it’s not your baby.” He smirks.

Jungkook sighs, “Tae, maybe instead of being so happy about knocking her up worry about her fuckin health.” He glares before turning to you with a soft look, “C’mere sweetheart, let’s get you something for your stomach yeah?” He stands and goes over to guide you into the kitchen, “Tae, run out and bring some pregnancy tests!”

“On it!”

You’re numb the entire time Jungkook talks to you about different meal options, his hand never leaves your waist and he occasionally strokes his thumb over your tummy. How could they be so happy knowing the circumstances behind the baby—or rather this parasite inside of you. Just thinking about the thing made you sicker, and quite frankly more angrier.

“Baby?” Jungkook looks at you in confusion, “I asked if you wanted to have some broth with crackers, it’ll be light on your stomach and will do good for the baby.” Baby… You looked down at your stomach and stared at it, so that’s where the little shit was. “Baby?” He cups your face in his hands.

“Anything is fine,” you mutter, “doesn’t matter now anyways, ‘m basically an incubator.” You glare.

Jungkook ignores your little aggressive comment, “Don’t be like that, ‘s not good for you or the baby. Gotta make sure you’re well fed mama,” he mumbles as he brings you closer, “gotta be a good mama for the baby alright?” He cups your tummy.

You feel frustration bubble up, “I don’t want this fucking parasite in me,” you seethe, “I didn’t ask to be pregnant, I didn’t ask for any of this! I would have been perfectly fine in Busan with my parents if you or Taehyung hadn’t bothered me!” You yell angrily, “Baby this, baby that—what about me?! I’m a human being! This is my life we’re talking about!” You shove his hands off of you.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, “You’re just cranky and moody, understandable sweetheart,” he reaches over to grip you by the throat, “but let’s not get too over your head yeah? Is this all because of Busan? Throwin’ a fit like a goddamn child?” He glares.

“Yes! Exactly that Jungkook, I was doing so fucking fine before YOU or Taehyung.” Your eyes well with tears, “A-And now-now, I can’t even see my parents anymore because I’m stuck here everyday inside of a small ass apartment chained like a goddamn circus animal waiting to be used!” You sob hysterically, everything you’ve held in at this point just erupting.

You hate that he gives you a sympathetic look, he brings you into his arms and you’re too weak to fight against him, “Oh baby,” he rocks you side to side, “when will you understand that your place is with us, we keep you SAFE. We feed you don’t we? We protect you? What more are you asking for?” He says softly like he’s talking to a child or something.

“I-I want to see my mom and dad,” you hiccup, “wanna g-go to Busan ‘n make sure they’re alive ‘n healthy. Please!” You paw at his arms and cling to him like a child, “Please ‘s the only thing I’ll ever ask for!”

Jungkook stares down at you while you cry and beg, he gently rubs his hand over your back and hums, “I’ll talk to Tae about it,” he pulls back to look down at you, “but you have to take care of yourself for the baby’s sake.” He calmly says, “No ifs or buts, if you don’t we’re not going anywhere.”

You bite back the protest sitting on the tip of your tongue, “...Okay..” You mutter.

“Good girl,” Jungkook grins and ruffles your hair, “now go sit down, I’ll call you when the soup is ready.” He ushers you out.

Taehyung and Jungkook spend the entire night talking about it, you can hear them from the bedroom where you sit in pure excitement and hope. Jungkook argues that maybe it’s time to find a new settlement out there, he says something along the lines that raising the baby in the countryside is far better as the infected are less likely to populate rural areas. Taehyung argues that they’re fine altogether given the endless supplies nearby and the running water and electricity they have.

“Jungkook you’re not understanding, I’m gonna be a dad now and I can’t be having y/n walk for almost two months straight in this state. She won’t make it,” Taehyung sighs, “she’s fine here, safe and sound where she has water and heat to keep her warm at night.”

Jungkook releases a heavier sigh, “Tae, there’s a high risk of raiders and you know it. What if we’re out getting supplies one day and someone finds her and the baby? Then what? Or how about when the baby gets here you wanna keep them inside these four small ass walls for the rest of their lives? Is that what you think is best for the baby?”

You sit with a bated breath, waiting for Taehyung’s reply. You’re fucked if he says no, because Jungkook will NOT go anywhere unless Taehyung comes with. You feel your heart twist bitterly as you stare down at your hands, if Taehyung says no you really think you’ll resort to murder just to escape..

“Fine. We’ll go but if it’s far worse we’re heading straight back got it?” Taehyung grunts, “Can’t believe I’m agreeing to this shit.” He mutters while heading out to the patio.

You smile widely and lay back with your head turned to the window, admiring the bright moon, “Soon..” You quietly whisper to yourself.

Please wait for me..

+

The three of you set out one crisp Autumn morning, you almost forgot what the outside looked like given that you were only given the luxury of the windows in the apartment. Jungkook and Taehyung keep you close with a hand around your waist or wrapped around your own in a tight hold.

“Gotta cross that bridge to catch the highway that leads us into the countryside roads to Busan,” Jungkook says while reading the map, “from there I think we should be good and just keep walking straight.” He sighs as he folds the map back up.

Taehyung hums in acknowledgment as he reaches over to slip his arm around your waist and tug you close, “You good baby?” He asks softly, “Don’t want you overworking yourself.” He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You nod while looking around the area, “I’m fine, wanna go now.” You tug at his hand and follow after Jungkook. They try to make conversation with you but you’re fully locked in on one thing: Busan.

It takes up almost a day to make it to the bridge and get on the highway, luckily those things aren’t out in the open so the walk is much easier and stress free. You pass the time by admiring the plant life around you and remembering what once was when you come across clothing shops and closed restaurants.

The wind blows the flowy dress you’re wearing, you would have preferred something like jeans or whatever but they swapped out almost all of your clothes for dresses. You liked them and they were cute and all but this was something you would have liked to wear for yourself back at home and not for them.

“Look,” Taehyung stops in his tracks to bring you over to the bridge railing, “kinda looks nice yeah?” He smiles as the wind blows through his hair.

The three of you stand together watching the water below calmly moving in one direction, birds fly high over your heads and into the pink-ish sunset. You smile to yourself and nod, “I like it. Super nice.”

Jungkook leans his head over your shoulder and hums, “Pretty like you.” He comments to which you ignore. The three of you stay a little longer before Jungkook pats you gently on the back, “Alright, time to go. Gotta find somewhere before sundown.” He warns and takes your hand in his, leading you away from the peaceful sight.

You insist to them you’re more than fine walking through the dark with them but Taehyung’s absolutely not having it. He gives you one glare and you’re left to sulk in the dark quietly, begrudgingly following the two into a spot for the night somewhere off the road in the overgrown grass. Jungkook makes sure the area is clear before he lays out your sleeping bags on the ground.

“Calm down, Busan ain’t going nowhere sweetheart,” Jungkook comments when he sees how uneasy you are, “here lay down.” He pulls you in and tucks you into the warm sleeping bag, “All this walking won’t be any good on you,” he leaves the ‘or the baby’ out given your feelings about the pregnancy, “gotta have you well rested.” He mumbles and leans down to press a gentle kiss over your lips.

You stare at him with an incredulous look, you rather keep walking day and night if meant getting away from them two and reaching your parents quicker. Any more of this and you’re going to lose it, you grumble quietly and snuggle into the sleeping bag turned away from them. “Night.” You curtly reply.

“G’night pretty.”

.

Sleep comes fairly easy but you’re still a bit uncomfortable from laying on the cold hard ground. You spent at least a good hour tossing and turning before sleep took over and sent you into a state of peace. Though by now you knew that peace was never an option, not with these two on your ass half the time.

Your eyes flutter open in confusion, you take in your surroundings for a few seconds before realizing you’re flat on your back. You note the familiar weight sitting on top of you and the slick noises down below. “Hn?” You try to make out who it is but it’s difficult with their face buried in your neck.

“Awake pretty?” Taehyung whispers into your ear, “Was wondering when you were gonna wake up.” He runs his tongue over the shell of your ear with a low moan, “Sorry baby, couldn’t resist seeing you so pretty in the dresses we got you.” He slurs out, you notice he has a hand stuffed between the two of you with his heavy cock in his hand, “Had to have you,” he breathes out while laying his pelvis flat against yours, “feel that? You did that.”

His cock’s all slicked up and hot as it presses against your inner thigh. There’s no use in fighting back as you let your thighs fall open to accommodate him. Taehyung makes a pleased noise as he grinds his cock over your clothed pussy. It bumps and nudges against you which in turn makes your clit throb with excitement. You huff quietly and angle your hips low to see if his cock will bump into your clit again.

Taehyung’s cock slips and slides over your cunt, you begin to grow annoyed and reach down to shove your panties down. He eagerly helps you slide them off with the material getting stuck around your ankle. When he goes to spread you open with his fingers, you let out a pained cry and shove at his hand weakly. Your clit and hole were more sore than you thought.

“What is it baby?” He asks with worry etched onto his face.

You shake your head, “Hurts,” you reply softly and move his hand away, “don’t like it, it hurts.”

Taehyung moves his hand away from your cunt, “Won’t touch you there then baby,” he murmurs while kissing your lips as an apology.

You huff quietly and wiggle around with a pissy glare, “And now my back hurts too.” You shove at his chest and grumble, “Off, off.” Taehyung doesn’t budge, instead he lets you roll over on to your side to alleviate the pressure. Your eyes snap over to him when you feel his cock slip between your thighs.

“Shh..gonna use your pretty little thighs sweetheart.” Taehyung whispers as he rolls his hips slowly. You let your head drop back to the pillow with an annoyed huff, his cock occasionally brushes over your clit from where it sits snug against your pussy. Doesn’t hurt but it bothers you.

He quietly moans and pants under his breath while using your thighs to get off. His leaky cock leaves trails of pearly white cum smeared over your thighs and cunt. Some of it even gets your cheeks wet, making the heat you’re feeling more unbearable. “Can’t wait till you’re bigger pretty,” he whispers, “gonna look so good full of our baby.”

His hips snap upwards when he says that, “ ‘s like you were made to be bred,” he growls and reaches down to slip a hand into your dress, fondling and squeezing your tit in his hand, “got such pretty tits, look at ‘em,” he grunts while slapping one, “can’t wait till they’re leaking with milk.”

You shudder in disgust at the thought, you already felt like you weren’t in your own body, him talking about its upcoming changes has you gagging. You choose to ignore anything related to the pregnancy, closing your eyes and trying to block out his words.

“Oh fuck,” he shudders, “gonna always keep you full and swollen—gonna breed you over and over again pretty.” Taehyung rolls his hips faster and faster until he stops with a shaky sigh, cum shooting out in white ropes over you and the sleeping bag. He stays still for a few seconds before pulling his spent cock from between your thighs.

Great, he ruined your sleeping bag.

.

The air around you is hot despite the season being autumn. You trudge along behind Jungkook while toying with the sleeves of your hoodie which has long been discarded and tied around your waist. Jungkook says it’s only a matter of days before you’re all in Busan. You’re just relieved the gruesome trip is finally coming to an end and you probably won’t have to see them ever again.

Dealing with both Taehyung and Jungkook was slowly starting to work a nerve inside of you. As your pregnancy progressed so did the symptoms that came with it. Your back hurt like a bitch, your tits were sensitive, and your mood swings were very random. Everyday was a challenge with these two they just wouldn’t leave you alone and in peace. Not to mention the thing inside of you, it was the main source of all your headaches and morning sickness.

“There’s a gas station up ahead,” Taehyung points, “let’s head there to take a break, yeah? My fuckin’ feet are killing me.” He groans while adjusting his hold on the rifle in his hands. “And don’t start with me y/n, we all need a fucking break,” he shoots you a warning glance.

You kick a nearby rock and glare back, “I wasn’t going to say anything.” It comes out more snappier than usual, something about today just had every nerve in your body sending you into overdrive.

Taehyung shoots you a look, “You don’t have to, I can already feel you complaining about why we have to stop.” He mutters, “All you’ve done since we left Daegu. Not all of us wanna walk till the fucking sun starts to set.”

You whip around to give him a piece of your mind when Jungkook tugs you over to his side, “Tae,” Jungkook gives him a silent look before he turns his attention to you, “I just wanna rest in peace, so please let’s just keep our thoughts to ourselves and keep it moving. Fighting isn’t gonna get us there faster either.”

“Well maybe picking fights with a pregnant person isn’t so bright either.” You spit out angrily while walking faster.

Taehyung scoffs, “Oh so now you’re pulling the pregnant card? After all this time acting like the baby doesn’t even exist to you, I see you.”

You whip around and stop walking, “Because it doesn’t! This fucking parasite inside of me doesn’t exist to me and it never will. I never wanted it in the first place and now I’m stuck with it in MY body, so maybe that explains why I fuckin’ hate it and don’t talk about it!” You hiss.

The silence is deafening. Jungkook doesn’t seem so shocked you lashed out but Taehyung absolutely looks livid with the way you talked about the baby. You don’t care, if anything you’re smug because at least he knows you hate the thing. “If it were up to me,” you speak lowly, “I would have gotten rid of it the moment I found out.”

And with that you stomp off towards the gas station. “y/n! y/n get back here!” Taehyung yells but Jungkook says something along the lines of ‘let her be’. You huff angrily and throw the door open to the station, it’s dark and dusty as hell in there but you’re too angry to really care. “Who the fuck does he think he is?” You mutter while looking around for something edible, preferably chocolate.

As you’re looking up and down the aisles you hear a quiet thud. You briefly look up with a pinched look, “Probably one of those idiots.” You mutter quietly while going back to looking for candy. The noise gets louder and once again interrupts your search, “What the fuck.” You sigh in annoyance and look over at the backroom.

The door suddenly slams open and a mangled body comes barreling out, screeching loudly while flailing around and knocking things over. Your eyes widen and you drop the candy bar you had in your hands, “Oh shit.” You make a run for the door, head whipping back to see the zombie launch itself from the other side to you, its hands outstretched and swinging wildly.

“Jungkook! Taehyung!” You fall through the door and crawl away desperately as the thing wraps its hand around your ankle to yank you back, “Help me!” You sob and desperately kick at the thing.

Taehyung aims the rifle and shoots without hesitation, it takes at least two shots to keep the thing down. “Fuck are you okay?” Taehyung runs over to pull you up into his arms, “Did it bite you? Are you hurt?” He paws all over and inspects your body for any bites or wounds.

“I-I’m okay.” You quietly whisper and look back at the store, “I-I don’t know if t-there’s more in there.” A tiny sob bubbles up as you hide your face in his chest and grip his shirt tightly.

Taehyung looks over at Jungkook and silently nods, “Hey you’re okay, look at me,” he cups your face, “you’re fine, ‘s nothing we already got rid of it.” He whispers while brushing your hair out of your face. You weakly nod and stay close by while Jungkook checks for any more infected inside of the station.

Taehyung’s practically glued to you after that, and not that you want him close by but in a way he helps calm you down. Jungkook had quickly gathered food and water before the three of you set back out. The walk was silent save for the sounds of birds chirping and crickets hiding in the tall grass. Everything just feels so unreal right now as you still process your near death experience.

“I think we have to go that way,” Jungkook quietly says, “leads to the countryside—you said your parents lived away from the city right?” He says and stops in his tracks to look at you.

“Yeah.” You look at the map in his hands. “If I’m right we only have a good hour to go, farm’s not that far from here. I recognized the road cause my dad used to take me through here whenever we were going into the city.” You say while reading one of the familiar road signs.

Jungkook nods, “Lead the way then.”

The three of you walk through the dirt, passing by big farms and bus stations that definitely make you reminisce. You haven’t been here in so long it feels weird, you would have loved to come when things didn’t hit the fan and everything went into chaos. You can’t hide the anticipation on your face, it was practically eating at you.

Taehyung notices this because he reaches for your hand and holds it tight, “Any closer?”

“Yeah.” Your heart pounds in your chest, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You’re not so sure you’re prepared for what’s about to come. If your parents aren’t there—no, they are, you’re so sure of it. Something tells you they’re fine. You’re so excited you nearly barf.

You come to a stop when the three of you reach the wooden gate entrance, Jungkook is quick to open the latch and push the gate open. “y/n,” Jungkook calls out in surprise because you immediately start heading to the house. You ignore them and their calls, stumbling over your feet as you make your way to your home. Your eyes get watery from the swirl of emotions you’re feeling.

‘I did it.’ You run on to the porch and push the door open, “Mom! Dad! It’s me!” You call out loudly while heading into the living room, “Mom?” You look around frantically. Everything in the house looks untouched, the windows are open as the white curtains flutter with the wind. You feel your heart drop a few times here and there but you’re more excited than anything.

“Mom! Dad!” You head into another room and look around frantically. Nothing is out of place and the house looks well taken care of, so where were your parents? You take a seat on a chair, ignoring the sounds of Jungkook and Taehyung entering the house. Where were they..? You begin to tear up.

You catch a small white envelope sitting in the corner of the table. You reach over and your eyes widen when you see that it was addressed to you. With frantic hands you tear it open and begin reading, eager to find out where your parents could be. As you’re reading Taehyung comes into the room and leans over your shoulder with a curious look. You don’t even reprimand him for reading something that doesn’t concern him.

“..I knew you would come looking for us, it’s in your nature to be stubborn as hell like your mama,” Taehyung reads out loud as Jungkook pauses whatever the hell he was looking at, “we didn’t think you would be content with staying put, and if for whatever reason you find yourself here we’re gone. We’re safe if you must know, we’ve left to a settlement with others where we hopefully can rebuild the life we once had. When you’re ready come to us, you’ve made it this far kiddo I don’t think you’ll have trouble getting to us. For now rest, I assume you’re tired, we left the animals in the barn with food that is most likely gone by now, there’s preserved foods in the bunker below that we’ve been harvesting. Hope to see you soon,” Taehyung finishes.

Your hands shake as you read the date below—you were a week late.

“I guess that’s that.” Jungkook sighs.

“Farm doesn’t look so bad, I think we can run it, don't you think Kook?” Taehyung grins, “We can raise the baby out here without a worry, can even take some horses down to the nearby town when we need to.” He leans down to kiss your neck, “What do you say pretty?..”

+

Everything hurts—your spine, your back, your feet—you can’t stand it. The baby is bigger and it weighs down on your hips horribly. Some days you pretend it isn’t there but other days are harder given the sheer size of your belly and that thing kicking you.

With an annoyed huff you rip the blankets off of your body and get up with a low pained moan. You support your back with one hand while carefully walking across the wooden floor towards the front door. The cold metal bites into your ankle unforgivingly but you’re used to it already. You thought things would be different here but you guess you were wrong.

“Fuck,” you hiss when the baby kicks you in the rib, “just you fuckin’ wait you little shit,” you mutter while standing on the front porch watching Taehyung and Jungkook tend to the farm around.

Jungkook wipes the sweat off his brow and turns to smile at you, “Something wrong sweetheart?” He calls out.

Taehyung shoots you a grin, “Baby already bothering you pretty?” You want to reply ‘been bothering me’ so bad but you hold your tongue. Taehyung’s eyes drop down to the dress you’re wearing as he whistles lowly, “Well don’t you look pretty?” He smirks as he runs his tongue over his lip.

You find yourself staring at them—one day, you’ll find a way to leave even if you have to fight tooth and nail. You suppose the parasite inside of you can come if it’s not already out yet, or hell maybe you’ll leave it with them who knows.

But one thing is for sure: you were leaving one way or another.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful l @winkii @lifeless-firefly @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore

[halloween m.list]

[iheartmapi]

ARCADE ANTICS

Mapi x Fem! Reader

Summary: As Barça’s current season is ended you and Mapi leave for Ibiza, together you decide to go on a date at the Game Arcade nearby.

TW: possible bad translated Spanish, one mention of a seizure, slightly suggestive at the end.

Fluff.

Word count: 1,545.

Together with Mapi you had decided on taking a trip to Ibisa, in a way celebrating finally having some free time to yourselves since this season has ended. You two wasted no time beating around the bush and packed everything that was necessery for your journey.

As expected the weather on Ibiza was nothing but hot during the summer, most of your time there was spent lounging together on a Yacht, drinking in the golden sunlight and each others company.

As of now you were laying comfortably on a plush lounge chair on the Yacht’s terrace, your sunglasses perched on your face while the sun kissed the uncovered skin of your body and face. You closed your eyes and sighed softly, listening in to the sound of the waves gently rolling over and seagulls screeching somewhere in the distance. The short moment of your intense concentration was finished when you felt the familiar touch of one’s soft hand upon your shoulder, you opened your eyes and turned your head to look at your girlfriend, Mapi was holding two bottles of what seemed to be some juice.

“Thirsty, Tesoro?” Mapi asked with a silly smile gracing her gorgeous face. Her damn smiles were quite literally contagious, because no matter the situation whenever you saw the ends of her lips curling upwards something in you just instinctively made you smile as well. “Can’t lie, I am” you answered, Mapi just handed you the bottle meant for you before moving along to sit down on your lounge chair, you immediately sat up to make some space for her. Your pupils swiftly moved across the letters on the juices label, “blueberry and pomegranate”, it read, classic but with a dash of avant-garde with the pomegranate element. You popped off the bottle cap and took a test sip, it was pretty tasty, a sweet and tart mix. “These are quite tasty, we’ll definitely have to get more” you started watching as Mapi sipped on her own juice as well, “Obviously, after all I only ever pick out good things” Mapi rolled her eyes playfully, “You sure about that?” You raised an eyebrow still smiling “Don’t you remember that God awful hard candy you brought home that one time?” Mapi puffed out her chest “Are you going to bring that up till my last days? My good taste disappointed only one time!” She defended herself, “I’m sure there were many more times-“ before you could finish Mapi cut in “Cállate la boca!” ‘Shut up!’ she laughed, “Alright…sorry Mapi, I trust your good taste a 100%” you chuckled, leaning in closer to her, “That’s what I like to hear” she answered.

Your arms wrapped around Mapi, resting your head on her shoulder as the two of you embraced one another, “You know I was thinking…” Mapi started in a quiet voice “I wanna take you out, like on a date” that caught your interest “Oh yeah? Any particular idea you’ve got?” You asked, “There’s this Game Arcade, it’s pretty nearby actually” Mapi added, you raised your head, now looking straight into her eyes “Game Arcade? Wow…pretty 80’s Mapi” you joked, “What are you calling me old-fashioned? I’ll have you know Arcades are FULL of fun” She put her hand on her chest feigning being offended for dramatics, you couldn’t help but laugh at your girlfriends humorous antics, you patted her arm “I was just joking babe” after a moment you added “I know if we’re thinking fun then you’re the person to go to” Mapi smiled at your comment “I’m flattered, querida”

You spent some extra minutes together on the yacht before changing into some fresh clothes and heading for the Arcade. Together, you and Mapi walked through the streets hand in hand talking about everything and nothing..occasionally pointing out some places and views you passed by which you’d definitely want to visit some time. Finally after a not very long period of walking you arrived in front of a medium sized building, it generally didn’t stand out too much save for a couple of game posters in front and a neon coloured sign that said “LA ARCADA” in a funky font. Mapi turned to face you, “What about this…we’ll play some games and whoever loses buys dinner today” she challenged you, you raised an eyebrow before smirking and shaking her hand “Deal.”

The two of you entered the building, inside you could really feel the spirit of the 80’s, the walls were dark as well as the flooring and dim lighting, neons flashed everywhere, emanating from the countless of Arcade cabinets, you looked over at Mapi, you could tell that right now she must’ve felt like a little kid in a candy store, she was observing every corner of the Arcade with clear excitement in her eyes, “Come on let’s play something!” She pulled on your hand, dragging you to the game machines. The two of you stopped at a random one, you took your place and Mapi did hers, carefully you pressed “begin” and the screen faded to reveal the first level of the game, it seemed to be a simple 8-bit type of game where you walked around some dungeons and fought with monsters. You and Mapi began your rivalry, playing the games and talking with each other, mostly making comments about the game…About good 10 minutes later you and her reached the final level..the summary that flashed on the screens revealed you to be the winner of this round, “Aw look at that…I think I’ll be getting free dinner today” you teased, Mapi just rolled her eyes “Bite your tongue, you’ll see I WILL beat your ass in the end” Mapi then took hold of your hand again, you walked through the countless aisles filled with bright flashing machines…soon you felt Mapi poking your arm “Babe! Look! Isn’t that one of those dance machines?! Come on I need to try that one out!!” She stated, her excitement rising unbelievably.

Mapi took her place, reading the neon-purple coloured instructions that were on the screen, afterwards when she seemed to get the hang of what you were supposed to do she looked at you over her arm “It’ll be fun trust me!” She urged you, you couldn’t deny her…especially not when she was being so adorable being happy over a simple Arcade game. Many fits of laughter followed after the two of you started the games, the first time on those things was definitely something else..ultimately Mapi won that one.

Now you two were back on the prowl searching for fun games again, your eyes scanned everything, but it’s fair to say that all of that technology gave you a slight colour seizure…then you saw what appeared to be a game of Donkey Kong, “Hey Mapi, you intrested in that one?” You pointed over at the cabinets, Mapi nodded and you made your way over to the final game of this date. “Well Mapi…let’s see who’ll buy dinner today” you giggled “You better get your wallet ready now” Mapi answered with an almost Cheshire grin on her face.

It was three minutes into the game, you and Mapi were so focused and passionate about this game, “What?! That’s not fair I dodged that barrel!” Mapi yelled frustrated that something seemed to bug a little, “Games not about being fair my love” you joked laughing at her outburst…the ultimatum was that..Mapi won somehow, after the summed up points flashed on the screens she turned to you with a wide smirk, “I told you!” She started hysterically jumping up and down and also humming some funny little winners chant of hers…the sight amused you, but in the best way possible, after all her happiness as your happiness..even if it meant you paying for dinner today. “Alright Champ…it’s time for dinner isn’t it?” You linked hands and made your way out of the weirdly old but fun place. For a quick moment you stood still together thinking of a place to eat at. “What about that place we passed by earlier? I believe it was called Tapas y Vino or something like that..” you suggested, Mapi thought for a second before agreeing “I think that’ll be great, guapa”. With that your ending destination of this little date was the restaurant.

You took a seat in the small garden area of the restaurant (of course you paid for the meal as you agreed) enjoying the now setting sun of Ibiza with Mapi while eating a hearty dinner..quiet jazz music and people’s conversations filled your ears, the sky was fading from an orange-y colour to a more violet one, the view looked beautiful but you were sure that the most breathtaking one was seated in front of you, her mouth stained with some sauce from her meal as she joked about the game Arcade from earlier..maybe she was a goofball, but she was your goofball and you were the happiest to have her in your life. And so you conversed, laughing and smiling. Mapi gave you a piece of her dish when you asked her about how she was enjoying it, you chewed the food..raising your brows ever so slightly.

“It’s actually quite delicious…not as delicious as you though”

“For Christ’s sake we’re in public…”

[yespleasetommyshelby]

Before he cheats - Modern Tommy Shelby x reader

I've had this song stuck in my head for days and it's gotta go 😩 This literally took me all of 2 hours to plan/write/post and it hasn't been proofread so bare with!

Enjoy! 🥰

---------

"56, 57, 58, 59, 60, that's it, I'm done." I huffed as i threw my phone onto the sofa besides me, frown on my face as I sighed. "That's two fucking hours!" I muttered to myself stamping my feet into my trainers I threw my coat on before picking up my phone on some final hope that I'd actually had a reply, but low and behold, obviously not.

"Fucking Thomas Shelby always thinking with his mother fucking dick." I continued to mutter under my breath as I left my home on Watery Lane slamming the door behind me, my chest burning in anger. Stepping out onto the path I shoved my hands into my coat pockets, fists clenched as I headed the short distance down the road to the house where I'd practically grown up.

"Watch where you're fucking going!" I screeched as a teenager flew past on his bike almost knocking me into the road. "Fucking males and their fucking shit." I continued to slate each and every male that came into view in the 2 minutes it took to get to my destination, 'men are all the bloody same' my mum used to say, 'honestly, get yourself a women, their much easier.' Looking back maybe I should've taken her advice.

"Where is he?" I asked as I pushed open the doors to the betting shop that sat in Watery Lane, the punters and staff going silent as I watched with my hands on my hips. "Oh come on, you know exactly who I'm talking about!" I all but yelled into the silent room, after being with Tommy for 2 years now I had almost as much authority as him, almost.

"Y/n, not here." Polly's voice had my head on a swivel, finally spotting her in the doorway to John's office I stormed over ignoring the looks I was getting from everyone.

"Where is he Pol?" I sighed as I flopped down into Johns office chair. "And why are you in here?" I asked noticing that John wasn't in his own office.

"He's disappeared with Esme somewhere, honestly these Shelby boys and their dicks are ridiculous." She mumbled, lighting the cigarette she held in her hand.

"Tell me about it." I sighed, knowing that if Tommy wasn't in the office he was only going to be in one other place. "He's at the Garrison then." I asked, watching as she froze slightly before shaking her head.

"I think so, yeah, what's he done this time?" She sighed as she rubbed her eyes, having dealt with nothing but pissed up (and off) men and women placing bets they can't afford all morning, dealing with her nephews love life was definitely not on her to do list.

"Nothing Pol, he's done nothing which is the fucking problem! He was supposed to meet me 2 hours ago and I haven't heard anything since a lousy morning text all because he's too busy with that fucking whore Grace!" I ranted, reaching out and taking one of her cigarettes before lighting it and slamming the lighter down on the desk. "You know what I'm done." My voice sounded much more convinced then my mind as I said the words.

Shaking my head I stood up in a flash, out of Johns office and into Tommys within a second, without looking I reached behind Tommys desk and picked up the baseball bat that I knew he kept there in case of emergency's. Pushing my way past Polly who was stood in the doorway I made my way through the punters and out into the street without a second look, the bat weighing heavy in my hand.

"Y/n! What are you doing?!" Pol's voice follows me out into the street. "Come back inside!" She yelled, passers by stopping to look at the scenes, before a sharp look from Pol had them walking on.

"Woah! What's going on here?" I was stopped in my tracks as Arthur, John and Esme appeared from the corner ahead of me, grins on their faces as they looked from the bat in my hand to the scowl on my face.

"Looks to me that she's off to play baseball." John laughed, his input met with a thud on his chest by his wife.

"Would you two idiots shut up already." She giggled slightly as she pushed her husband into his older brother. "Now what's up with the bat?" She asked, smirking slightly as she had a feeling she knew exactly where you was going, after sitting on the phone for an hour the last time Tommy pissed you off she knew not to get in the way.

"Like John boy said." I shrugged, my hold on the bat tightening ever so slightly. "I'm going to practice baseball with a nice new shiny Land Rover I saw parked outside of the Garrison." I grinned before pushing my way through the trio and continuing on my way.

I couldn't help but let out a loud laugh as the Garrison came into view and just as I had predicted there was brand new Land Rover sat outside its doors. The brand new Land Rover that only 3 days ago I had travelled up to Scotland to collect with Tommy, not knowing that it would be the last journey I'd take with both him and the car.

"Y/n come on back to the shop love, we'll sort this shit out." Polly pleaded once more making me stop in my tracks, the Shelby's had been like a family to me, even in the years before me and Tommy had officially gotten together, being friends with Ada and all.

"I'm sorry Pol." I sighed shaking my head as I turned to face her and the trio that had followed behind. "But right now, right now he's probably slow dancing with that bleach blonde tramp and she's probably getting frisky. Right now he's probably buying her some fruity little drink 'cause she can't shoot whisky." I laughed a little, knowing for a fact that she couldn't handle the drink that Thomas Shelby worships so much. "Right now he's probably up behind her with a pool stick showing her how to shoot a combo, but he don't know." I laughed as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my keys, my hand wrapping around the longest and sharpest of them all, ironically the spare key Tommy had given me for this exact car.

I could help but grin as I stuck my key through the shiny black metal of the drivers door, the small act creating some kind of pleasure, a pleasure that only increased as I walked my way down the car, the key dragging a horribly crooked line right down the side.

"Right that's enough now! Cut this shit out!" Polly yelled, her eyes flickering between her nephews burnt lover and the door which he could come through at any second. "Think about what you're doing y/n." She almost pleaded, or at least as close as I'd ever seen her.

Ignoring her I made my way round to the passengers side, the metal bat dragging across the floor being the only sound to be heard, except for the muffled giggles that the other two Shelby brothers struggled to keep back. A wave of emotion hit me as I climbed into the car, a lone tear slipping down my cheek which I quickly wiped away.

"He doesn't deserve it." I muttered to myself as I quickly wiped it away without a second thought. "Fuck him and all the whores he's had in this fucking car." I growled gripping my keys as I began to carve my name into the leather seat.

"What the fuck is going on right now?!" My head snapped up as I heard another voice, Ada having stumbled upon my little rage room experiment, shall we call it.

"Ada! Nice of you to join us, i'll tell you what's going on shall I?" I asked as I hopped down from the car swing the bat up over my shoulder as I waved over to her. "Right now, your brother, you know the one that I'm supposedly engaged to, is in there living it up with that Irish tart of a woman!" I yelled, using the bat to point towards the door, not caring how loud my voice had gotten. "Right now she's probably up singing some white trash version of Shania karaoke, right now she's probably saying 'I'm drunk' and he's thinking that he's gunna get lucky! Right now, he's probably dapping on three quids worth of that bathroom polo!" I screamed, the more thought I put into what was actually going on just inside fuelling the rage even more.

I let out a gut wrenching scream as I swung the bat into his headlight, once, twice, three times moving on to the next I swung again laughing as the glass crashed to the floor before swing it into the windscreen for good measure. Throwing the bat to the floor I put my hands on my hips and grinned as I looked at the mess that was Tommy Shelby's new car before making my way over to Arthur.

"I need your knife." Holding my hand out infront of him. "Please Arthur." I sighed knowing that he always carried one no matter where he went.

With a sigh and grin he reached into his pocket and placed the small switch blade into my hand.

"Seriously Arthur?! Why the fucking hell did you give her a knife?!" Polly yelled as she threw her arms up in frustration, knowing that if anyone was going to be killed for this it wasn't going to be her.

"She asked nicely Pol." He shrugged, loving the fact that his brother was about to have the surprise of a lifetime and all he had to do was sit and watch.

Sticking the knife into the front tyre I smirked as the hiss of air filled the air, walking round and putting a knife slash in all of the tires for good measure, I stood back with a grin laughing at the look of amusement over the 3 Shelby siblings faces, the smirk on Esme's and the fed up look Polly had been giving me for the last 10 years.

"What the fucking hell is going on?!" The man of the hour roared as he stepped out onto the street, the pub doors banging against the walls before Grace appeared behind him, eyes cast down. "Answer me!" He bellowed, the vein in his neck popping with each syllable.

"Hi Tommy, remember me?" I asked sarcastically making his eyes jump to me, his face dropping ever so slightly. "You know, the fiance that you used to have!" I stepped forwards as I spoke shoving him back slightly, knowing if it was anyone else they would have recieved a bullet to the head, but I knew he'd never lay a hand on me.

"Y/n? I thought we were meeting later?" He asked, brows furrowed in confusion as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, the numerous texts and missed calls flashing on the screen and the time that read two and a half hours after the planned meeting time. "Oh." He muttered, wiping his hand across his face. "What have you done?" He asked as his eyes trailed along the nice long line that now travels the length of his new car.

"Yeah, oh." I nodded, laughing slightly as Grace stepped out besides him. "I suppose you missed the show while you were in there with ol' Gracie here. But I'll give you a rundown shall I? Well I dug my key into the side of your pretty little souped up four wheel drive, carved my name into your leather seats. I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights and slashed a hole in all four tires, maybe next time you'll think before you cheat." I couldn't help the tears that fell next, the adrenaline slowing and my whole body began to ache, the end of an era, me and the Shelby's.

"Y/n-" "No." I cut him off, not wanting to listen to any kind of reasoning he would throw at me, anything to get him back in the good book. "I might've saved a little trouble for the next girl, because the next time that you cheat, oh you know it won't be on me, no, not on me." I wiped my eyes before pulling of the ring that he had given me 6 months ago. "Guess I'll give it to you aye, Gracie." I muttered, throwing the ring at her feet before turning to walk away.

"Y/n!" His voice reached my ears just as I'd passed Polly, Arthur, John, Esme and Ada. "Y/n please!"

"Bye Tom!" I yelled without turning back, keeping my head up I shoved my hands into my pockets and carried on, not giving them the chance to see the tears that were currently streaming down my face.

-----

There you have it! My first fic where they don't end up happily ever after, hopefully you enjoyed!

Feel free to send any requests! 💖

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: But I already have love in LA

A/n: 5,692 milli is the distance between calm nighttime Paris and sweltering Los Angeles, which almost makes Eilish howl like a wolf. A Paris promo in honor of the album mercilessly separates the two of you on an important date, but you find a way out.

Billie's point of view. 'Cause I like it.

"The person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable, please call back later," is the peremptory verdict unchanged over these endless eight hours, echoing coldly from a woman's voice on the other side of the handset. Not the voice I want to hear so much, not the timbre that makes my heart flutter so incredibly, as if it were your most expensive wind-up toy. Not your voice, absolutely not. You don't get in touch for such an ungodly long time, and I just diligently shut up the feeling of anxiety devouring from within throughout the day: a dark woolly monster grins hungrily with its wide mouth, loudly clicking its massive, fanged jaw. Each click is a new, painstakingly detailed picture in my head, causing hot anxiety. What if you're really lying helplessly on the hot as hell asphalt of LA, caught under the spiked wheels that tried to slow down with a soul-shattering screech? I know how hurried you are. What if you turned into a disadvantaged area, taking a shortcut, and now your lifeless body is lying in the nearest ditch, turning paler and colder by the minute? What if you just stopped breathing in your sleep for no reason?...

I take a deep breath, and the chains behind the monster immediately tighten with the deafening clang of massive links: it leaps, wanting to grab at me with its clawed paws, to pull me into the viscous pools of panic, but it still can't reach me. With a menacing guttural growl, its fangs gleam faintly in the semi-darkness, covered in viscous saliva. It's actually easier to contain my anxiety when my head is full of thoughts about the shoot, about the phrases I have to elegantly slip into the interviewers, turning their question marks into confident dots. It's easier when you're surrounded by a horde of people: security, staff, family. But when I'm in the silence of an insanely expensive French hotel, drowning in the uncompromising gloss of the surroundings, still perfectly styled and dressed in expensive dark clothes, coming straight from the shoot, nervous and clutching my phone in my hands with hope - it all becomes so impossible.

I'm dialing twelve digits again, just a little more and I'll be able to dial your number blind. "The person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable, please call back later." I lean back noisily on the cold silk of the sheets while that toothy, infinitely dark ball of anxiety laughs snidely. I check all the messengers, only to fling my phone away in a brief flash of anger somewhere upward, toward the ruched beige pillows: you still haven't been online in eleven hours, my messages unanswered. Fuck! It's becoming more and more like Jenga, where with each passing hour I take one wooden brick out of the structure and put it on top, making it even more rickety than before. Indeed, something has definitely happened, you couldn't just disappear from everyone's radar for no good reason, especially when today is our little celebration of a month-long relationship. There's five thousand six hundred and ninety-two miles between us, and the silence on the wire makes me want to howl. God, I'm going to go crazy...

Beep! It sounded like someone had thrown a grenade with the pin pulled right under the bed. I reacted immediately, but on the desplay is just a message from Fin in an endless string of unnecessary things. Well, better than nothing. Better than drowning in madness alone.

"Are you asleep?"

"No." How the fuck can I, bro?

"She still hasn't responded?"

"No."

The three dots bounce around again as my brother puts the right letters into words. Maybe I should call you again.

"Can you open the hotel room door right now?"

The restless gears in my head rumble to a grinding halt. Now? For what?

"For what?"

"Just open it, sis." - so unobtrusive and unexplanatory, followed by another gray block of letters: "You'll thank me later :)"

"Don't smile at me."

":)" - naturally, a smile. Damn Finn.

I dial you again and reluctantly get out of bed, shuffling my feet as if I were going to the lacquered scaffold under the shouts and whistles of the French Revolution crowd, but in fact only the thin tulle is swaying in the night wind, and the noise of rare cars, which enters the room so valiantly with the help of the open balcony. And here is the guillotine itself in the form of an oak door. I touch the gilded cold handle with the palm of my hand with pressure, and feel the massive blade whistling as it flies straight at my neck, severing my head. You're standing in front of me.

You look me in the eye and leisurely take the phone out of the pocket of your wide bard palazzo pants. Your accurate fingers finally touch the ill-fated green answer button before you bring the display to your ear. There's a slight, confused smirk on your lips, and on my end of the line there's finally the beeps and this mechanical female voice have finally died down. But it is still impossible to answer you, I can only stare at you in disbelief, as if you were a masterpiece that had escaped from the Louvre and had personally come to my doorstep.

"Bonsoir, Madame Eilish," your soft, purring timbre mightily shatters all anxiety, defeating the monster in my head. The only thing left were the massive chains of patience and self-control that held it back. You say what I've been longing to hear for these fucking eleven hours. You sound the way you've imprinted on my memory for the many hours we've spent together. - "A special gift exclusively for number one hundred and eleven."

I grab you into my hage, pulling you into the room in a flash. The door slams too loudly for midnight, but I don't care, you gasp, rustling a small package - I don't care, you babbling a hundred apologies for this frightening silence - I also don't care, girl. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care! I just leave a lot of barely visible lip gloss prints on your face, showering you with hot kisses, clinging to your lips with mutual hunger, making you almost choke, but I don't care! You don't pull away, just squeeze tighter, sliding down the wall a little. You're here right now, and the rest of it doesn't matter. And how can I take offense at you, when you have overcome five thousand six hundred and ninety-two miles...? At least not right now.

We calm down only when we reach the floor and settle down on the soft pile of the carpet. Your face now gleams beautifully in the warm light of the bedside lamp, your hair slightly ruffled either from my hands or the wind outside.

"I'm sorry." - You gulp in air with your mouth and repeat again, touching my cheek gently as if I were fragile Chinese porcelain.

"I almost lost my mind, Y/n." - I snuggle closer into your palm, finding the needed reassurance finally. - "But I'm so glad you're here now, my dumbass."

You chuckle lightly before rising to your feet in one merged motion, then gallantly offering your hand to me. My gaze first clings to the not-so-little bard stain spilling over the once flawless whiteness of your favorite shirt.

"What's this?"

"It's wine," you answer innocently as we walk to the back of the room, me holding your hand and intertwining our fingers, you holding the paper bag in front of you in your free left. - "I thought it unseemly to show up on a deep Parisian night and on our little holiday without a present. While we were choosing a variety with a nice elderly sommelier, he accidentally spilled some on me, for which he apologized for an extremely long time and stuffed a whole assortment of vegan sweets into the gift."

"Actually, it looks pretty good," I touch my hands to the damaged fabric where the wine petals had opened exactly opposite the heart. - "It looks like a flower, and it goes well with the pants."

"I told him the same thing, only in broken French!" - you laugh, sitting down on the bed. The package drops to the floor for nothing, revealing a dark bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, a corkscrew, and a dark blue box of obviously not cheap candy. - "Got a cup of any kind?"

"Only if it's cup after some coffee," the porcelain taps lightly as I hand you the cup along with the saucer that was on the bedside table. Drinking coffee at night is a little professional whim.

The cork easily yields to you under the spiraled steel of the corkscrew, so the generous scarlet stream quickly fills the porcelain cup almost to the brim, cleverly masking the coffee ring, which has already managed to imprint on the white dishes. You carefully pass the cup back to me, giving me the honorable right of the first sip. You already have a chocolate candy hiding behind your cheek. Sweet tooth.

You ask me about the past day, listening with incorruptible interest, you ask about the progress of the promo, about my dreams, I listening about your flight, about our first meeting, about Paris at night. We just talk about everything that comes into our heads, while the candy slowly runs out and the scarlet column of alcohol reaches the glass bottom of the bottle, and the bottle becomes more transparent than before in the weak light.

"You look ravishing, did I mention?" - My throat burns a little with the slight spice mixed with the flavor of currants and cherries, and your careful and transfixed gaze, albeit slightly cloudy from the wine, pleasantly burns my heart. - "Although, you absolutely always have that."

And I see you blush and your lips bend into a pleasant smile. When you're drunk, you're so sweetly embarrassed every time, like the word compliments are received by you, not me. Insanely nice. Insanely beautiful.

"Merci beaucoup, L'amour de ma vie." - in sweet, purring French, because you are a total provocation today, presented so elegantly and unobtrusively that I can't think of anything else. The chiseled collarbones are not only hidden under the thin fabric of the branded shirt, but also topped with a weighty gold chain. I catch myself thinking that you remind me of exactly this wine in the porcelain of the cup, which I want to sip leisurely, enjoying it alone. To taste you on my tongue is much more desirable than that cedar-currant flavor in the cup.

The bottle is almost empty, and you will soon begin to look like this pink wine stain blooming on your shirt. You giggle, shifting your gaze in embarrassment to the rich black lacquered wood that elegantly fills the bedroom space.

"Wow, is that a piano?" - so childishly naive, just to avoid my gaze. Gently I place the cup in your palms and then touch your chin with my fingers, turning you straight toward me. - "it's beautiful."

Along with the alcohol and fever rushing through my arteries, an absurd idea popped into my head, and it was an original sin not to realize it. I lean closer, deliberately slowly, though the knot of heat has tightened quite a bit. I like getting you so hot, Y/n, you'd know.

"It's beautiful, but it's only missing your nakedness," a languid whisper in your ear and you're already burning like a match. It's gorgeous. - "Shall we fix it?"

And you nod so obediently that even an expensive room in the best hotel in France and the same expensive wine are nothing compared to this one gesture. This will be the first time for you, the first time for the two of us, and believe me, I'll do everything I can to make sure that it goes well. I won't disappoint you, because all I really want is to drown you in a sea of pleasure. Think of it as my little gift to honor our date, like this wine.

×××

You moan so sweetly, and the only thing I really want right now is to seal your voice in a bottle so that I can open it later at any opportunity when you're not around again. You rest both palms against the shiny black lacquer on the closed top of the grand piano, standing with your back to the most elegant instrument and your face to me. You're standing completely naked, just a pile of clothes under your feet, and I'm already face between your thighs, kneeling. You grip the fabric of my black cardigan with trembling fingers, and like a whimpering child, you pull it on yourself. And it's so exciting to fulfill your little whims, knowing that it's still going to be the way I want it. I throw the dark, soft cotton off of me - a "storm cloud" glistens and shimmers slightly in the light of one dim lamp before falling to the carpet with the rest of my clothes. I'm completely naked now, too. Your lustful eyes dance on the ink of my tattoos, as if not knowing where to stop.

"Do you like the view too much, my girl?" - a grin, and you look away a little in renewed embarrassment. I touch your beautiful thigh, stroking it. "Hey, I like it when you watch."

And you watch again, only now you're looking clearly into my eyes, looking into the depths of my abysses, which for you alone are ready to serve not as destruction but as an unbreakable refuge. Your gaze is so focused, as if you want to dive in headfirst into my seas.

"I just... I just like absolutely everything, and I really don't know where to stop."

"So look, you can even touch me, as much as you want and wherever you want. You're allowed, Y/n." - I rise from my knees to push the banquette back to the piano again and sit down. - "Just for you."

And you explore, touching my skin with a gentle that the most distinguished musicians of classical orchestras will envy. Your hands outline my hips, my waist. You cling to my ribs with your fingers, then you stroke my shoulders and arms. I see a spark of delight in your eyes when you feel how the muscles are easily felt under the alabaster of my skin, while you reach to the very tips of my fingers, interlacing one hand in a lock with yours. Your other hand touches my chest, alternately slightly squeezing each one, and frankly speaking, it becomes infinitely difficult to breathe evenly. The same your hand slides over the stomach, heading to the bottom with like a sharpened arrow. Oh, my Goodness...

"Does that feel good?" - you whisper, touching two fingers to my clit with light pressure, alternating with circular motions. It feels good. Crazy.

So much so that all the words suddenly disappear from my head and stick in my throat in broken syllables, unwilling to form into something intelligible. I had to make an effort not to just nod like a silly dummy, chiseling out a single: "good."

You smile, feeling a gradual confidence, as if you're finally stepping on solid ground after the weightlessness of space, having been successfully rehabilitated. And I finally realize I don't have to hold back anymore. I can pull you close to me, rewarding you with a dozen deep, hot kisses, I can marked you with a bright hickeys on your neck, I can pick you up under your hips and lay you top of the piano cover with your shoulder blades, under which steel strings are silently stretched. While you're trapped in a haze of excitement, I can trace a path with my tongue and lips from your breasts to the bottom of your belly, where everything is burning Vesuvius flame. I can, I can, I can...

"It's so romantic in Paris, isn't it? Won't even try to compare it, it's all love everywhere." - I make the first quick stroke of my tongue and then pull away, hovering over your face again. You barely keep the back of your head from banging against the wooden lid, arching your back in longing. Who says I forgot to get back at you for my nerves?

"I don't know, I guess, but I already have love in LA." - You exhale so hotly, but you endure stoically. You realize you deserve it, yes. - "And I don't need anyone else."

My own heart begs for mercy on your account with a solid thump against my sternum, and I'm back down in a flash, repeating the strokes again, playing with your folds to the accompaniment of your moans. You're delicious.

And when you thrust yourself on my fingers so obediently, waiting for the denouement, which burns you to the point of shaking, and then you spur me with my back to the lid, hovering over me with intermittent heavy breathing, but with such selfless love in your eyes; when you enter me with two fingers sharply, but so necessary and precise, easily beating out moan after moan from my lungs and ligaments, that I really realize how suitable an instrument like a piano is for you.

I realize that I also definitely already have love in LA, in the form of you.

[hellsite-hall-of-fame]

Morbius (2022)

\[♪♪♪\]

\[WIND WHISTLING\]

\[BIRDS CHIRPING\]

\[THUNDER RUMBLING IN DISTANCE\]

\[WATER DRIPS ECHOING\]

\[BATS SKITTERING\]

\[HELICOPTER WHIRRING\]

\[MEN YELLING INDISTINCTLY IN SPANISH\]

We shouldn’t be here when it gets dark.

Set the trap at the mouth of the cave, please.

\[MEN SPEAKING IN SPANISH\]

\[WINCES\]

PILOT: You need a doctor?

\[CHUCKLES SOFTLY\]

I am a doctor.

It’s impressive, don’t you think?

Vampire bats weigh almost nothing, but they can down a creature nearly ten times their size.

\[FLIES BUZZING\]

Wow.

What are you using as bait?

You volunteering?

Leaving.

\[TRAP CLANKS\]

Pay me now.

Before the sun goes down.

You throw in that bushcrafter on your belt and we have a deal.

\[♪♪♪\]

\[GROANS SOFTLY\]

\[ALL CHITTERING\]

\[SCREECHES\]

\[BATS SCREECHING\]

\[SHOUTS IN SPANISH\]

\[YELLING IN SPANISH\]

Come on.

\[BELL TOLLING\]

\[STUDENTS LAUGHING, CHATTERING\]

Move!

\[TICKING\]

\[CAR HORN HONKS\]

NICHOLAS: Should be able to take better care of you here.

\[CAR DOOR CLOSES, CAR DRIVES AWAY\]

Everyone’s here to help you.

Michael, this is Lucian. Lucian, Michael.

Michael knows more about this place than I do.

\[WHISPERS\] Play nice.

LUCIAN: Hello.

Hello, Milo.

My name’s Lucian.

The person who was here before was Milo.

No.

He was also the new Milo.

And before him was the other new Milo.

I don’t even remember the first Milo.

How long have you been here?

Long as I can remember.

\[MACHINE BEEPS AND WHIRS\]

And you’re still not cured?

There is no cure.

There’s something missing from our DNA.

Like a piece of a puzzle.

And until they find it, the only way to stay alive is an oil change three times a day.

What would you do if you could be normal?

Just for an hour?

I don’t think about it.

Hey, look at the freaks! Look at them!

\[STUDENTS CHATTERING, LAUGHING\]

Best not to be outside when school gets out.

Like the original Spartans, we are the few against the many.

\[BEEPING\]

Milo?

Milo?

\[ALERT BUZZING\]

Nurse?

\[♪♪♪\]

\[WHISPERS\] Okay…

\[BEEPS AND WHIRS\]

Lucian.

Lucian!

With one of these?

It took a team of scientists to build that machine and you fixed it with a ballpoint pen?

There’s a school for gifted children in New York.

I think that I could get them to agree to cover your tuition and provide private care to help manage your condition.

Somewhere you could study, learn, hone your skills.

You have a gift, Michael.

I don’t think I could forgive myself if I saw it go to waste.

MICHAEL: “Dear Milo, this isn’t goodbye. I’m gonna find a cure for us, so we can be cranky old men someday. Your friend, Michael.

P.S. You shouldn’t have unfolded this. Now you’ll never get it back together. See you this summer.”

No.

\[STUDENTS CHATTERING\]

“Dear Milo…”

\[ALL LAUGH\]

Please, can I have my letter back?

What?

Please, can I have my letter?

Okay. Here.

\[LAUGHS\]

Please. Ah!

\[SHOUTS\] Please!

\[BOYS LAUGHING\]

Please!

\[YELLS\]

Stop.

\[GROANING\]

\[BOYS GRUNTING\]

\[NICHOLAS YELLS IN SPANISH\]

Go away!

\[SIREN WAILS IN DISTANCE\]

Let me have a look. Let me have a look.

\[SCREAMS\]

He tried to steal my letter!

Milo, Milo, stop.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

\[CRYING\]

What about Milo?

I’ll look after Milo.

He needs me.

NICHOLAS: Michael Morbius completed his doctorate by 19 and quickly established himself as the world’s leading authority on blood-borne diseases.

His development of artificial blood has saved more lives than penicillin.

Michael Morbius, please step forward to acknowledge the receipt of your prize from His Majesty, the King of Sweden.

\[AUDIENCE APPLAUDING\]

\[TRUMPETERS PLAY FANFARE\]

ANNA: I can’t believe you dissed the king of Sweden.

The king and the queen, their loyal subjects, all of Scandinavia and the entire scientific community.

Yeah, but who does that?

Well, Anna, we both know I have issues.

But, hey, I kept the program.

\[TONE SOUNDS, THEN WOMAN SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY OVER PA\]

\[KNOCKS\] There you are.

Hey, Dr. Bancroft.

Hey, Anna.

We going to play?

Oh, I don’t think so.

See, now that Dr. Morbius is back, maybe you should try losing for a while, see how that feels.

MICHAEL: Not gonna happen.

Michael.

Uh, yes?

You got a minute?

Of course.

New one. For your collection.

\[WHISPERS\] Dr. Morbius is in trouble.

I’m in trouble.

MARTINE: “I can’t accept a prize for the by-product of a failed experiment.”

Lab 1.

Front page, “American Scientist Rejects Nobel Prize.”

You know that people actually like writing checks to Nobel laureates?

Makes them feel better about their investment.

It would help if you stuck around long enough to cash them.

\[GROANS\]

You’re pushing yourself too hard.

\[SIGHS\]

Does our generous benefactor, Milo, know what you’re actually doing here?

What am I actually doing here?

Remixing human DNA with bat DNA.

I have no idea what you’re…

Talking about?

Is anything ringing a bell?

No bells ringing. Uh…

Okay. Maybe this will jog your memory.

MICHAEL: I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.

\[BATS SCREECHING\]

That is a…

It’s a fish tank.

Hmm.

Like, for… flying mammals.

Oh, I see.

Some friends I brought back from Costa Rica.

So when were you gonna tell me?

More importantly, how did you get my pass code?

It’s the first six digits of pi backwards.

It’s your password for everything.

You should change that.

You could lose your license for this.

I’m not gonna need it much longer, doctor.

You, on the other hand, will.

You know, there’s something called “plausible deniability.”

You should be thanking me.

These are the only mammals on Earth that have evolved to feed exclusively on blood.

So in order to drink it, these bats produce saliva that contains unique anticoagulants.

So your theory is, if you can successfully splice vampire genes into your DNA, it would allow your body to produce those same anticoagulants.

MICHAEL: Yes.

It would be a cure.

At what cost?

The fusion of different species is a legacy we already carry in our bodies.

Viruses insinuating their nucleic acid onto our own over hundreds of thousands of years.

That’s evolution. This is different.

I don’t think it is.

We have to push the boundaries, take the risks.

Without that, there is no science.

No medicine.

No breakthroughs at all.

\[MACHINE BEEPING\]

\[CHIMES, THEN BEEPING SOFTLY\]

Okay.

\[RECORDER BEEPS\]

Test subject for cell combination 117.

\[MOUSE SQUEAKING\]

\[BEEPS\]

Come on, come on, come on.

\[SQUEALING\]

\[RECORDER BEEPS\]

\[SIGHS\] Test subject 117 has resulted in…

failure.

\[RECORDER BEEPS\]

I don’t wanna see you get hurt.

I should’ve died years ago, Martine.

Why am I still alive if not to fix this?

To save my best friend, Milo.

And everyone else like us.

Not like this.

Dr. Morbius, it’s Anna.

\[♪♪♪\]

\[MONITORS BEEPING RAPIDLY\]

\[PANTING\]

Her temperature’s spiking, and her kidneys are shutting down.

We have to induce a coma before she has a stroke.

A hundred milligrams of propofol.

NURSE: Sure.

MARTINE: Now.

Come on.

MICHAEL: It’s okay.

It’s okay. We got you.

There you go.

There you go.

Thank you, nurse.

We’re gonna let you sleep a bit.

Take a nice long nap.

\[MONITOR BEEPING STEADILY\]

\[SQUEAKING\]

Michael.

What?

It worked.

\[♪♪♪\]

\[CLOCK CHIMES\]

Dr. Michael Morbius.

\[IN NORWEGIAN\] Some crippled guy’s here to see the Boss.

MILO: Michael! Get over here!

\[IN NORWEGIAN\] As long as I am a cripple you’ll be fine.

♪ Stop dreaming Of the quiet life… ♪

You’re late. I was trying out this new thing called “working.”

Oh, yeah. I don’t believe I’m familiar with the word.

I don’t believe you are.

So, what’s up with the goon squad?

Oh, I won a hand of cards against some Russian gentlemen.

Apparently they found his luck improbable.

There you are.

More like impossible.

So, doctor, how is our favorite patient?

Still determined to make his short life even shorter?

Yes, I am. Anyway, you’re one to talk.

You look terrible. Look at the state of you.

Says the man wearing… What is that, a quilt?

Oh, sorry. I didn’t get the memo to dress for a funeral.

\[LAUGHS\]

\[CHUCKLES\]

Right. I will see you later.

And you… my door is always open.

We miss you at Horizon.

We could use your mind.

I’ll leave you two to your fun.

Bye, Nicholas.

I have some good news.

Let’s go for a walk.

How’s Martine doing these days?

Dr. Bancroft? She is, uh, overqualified, outperforming, brilliant as usual.

And a royal pain in my ass.

But she’s keeping me honest for the most part. Why do you ask?

Eh, no reason. Just haven’t seen you in forever.

I wondered if she had something to do with it.

Aw, I miss you too.

But, yes, she has been working with me to save our lives.

I could ask her to stop if you like, put us out of our misery.

Just don’t do something stupid and go and fall in love because, believe you me, there is absolutely no cure for that.

Says the guy who knows absolutely nothing about the subject.

Not true.

I read about it in books all the time.

Books, really? Wow.

Yeah.

Or romantic comedies. The point is…

The point is, love is not on the cards for us, my friend.

Listen, if you start quoting The Notebook to me, I am going to stop and hobble very slowly in the opposite direction.

\[LAUGHS\]

Throw it!

MICHAEL: I’m close, Milo.

I can feel it.

A cure.

It’s finally possible.

Seriously?

Highly experimental.

Ethically questionable.

Very, very, very expensive.

I knew that was coming.

And not exactly legal.

Oh, and it has to be done in international waters.

\[LAUGHS\]

You were always expensive.

Is it dangerous? Should I be worried?

You want me to lie to you?

That would be nice, yes.

It’s a walk in the park on a sunny day.

Oh, yeah, that bad, eh?

Listen.

We don’t have much time left.

This could be our last chance.

So, what do you say?

We go out with a fight?

\[SIGHS\]

Yeah.

You with me?

Till the day you die, brother.

Till the day you die. You’ll have everything you need.

We’re the original Spartans, mate.

The few against the many.

Yeah.

\[♪♪♪\]

\[INDISTINCT CHATTER OVER RADIO\]

You know, I’m sure you’re cheating.

No. No, you’re not.

What you got?

MICHAEL: Putting another one in the oven.

Wish me luck.

\[CHIMING\]

The moment of truth.

\[CHIMES AND BEEPS\]

Success, Martine. We did it.

It’s holding together.

\[RECORDER BEEPS\]

Test 243.

\[INHALES DEEPLY\]

Human trials.

\[RECORDER BEEPS\]

\[EXHALES SHARPLY\]

I’m glad it’s you.

Had a lot of other suitors, didn’t you?

Yeah.

You know, the whole near-death thing is very, very chic.

I read it in Cosmo.

\[LAUGHS\]

Do they still make Cosmo? I don’t know.

I know it’s just what you always wanted.

Could be a collector’s item one day, you never know.

This better not be my last one.

I know this is painful, but you got it.

\[GROANS SOFTLY\]

That’s it. Bingo.

Right there.

\[SHUSHES\]

\[GROANS\]

Almost there, almost there.

\[EXHALES SHARPLY\]

\[SHUSHES\]

It’s all right. Come on. Come on.

There you go.

\[GROANS SOFTLY\]

You can buckle me up.

Yeah.

Yeah.

You all right? Great.

\[♪♪♪\]

\[ELECTRICITY CRACKLES\]

I call.

Bringing out the big guns.

Let’s go again.

I’ll be back. I’m gonna check on the doctor.

All right.

\[MONITOR BEEPING\]

\[DOOR CLANGS OPEN\]

You shouldn’t be down here.

I can be wherever I want, nurse.

It’s “doctor,” actually.

\[SNICKERS\]

I’m afraid you’re gonna have to leave.

Doctor. Sure, I can see it.

But, uh, you’re still the help, just like me.

Wow.

You can tell all that by just looking at me, huh?

Here I thought you were just another jacked-up dumb shit.

\[LAUGHS\]

Get out.

\[ALERT BLARING\]

Michael?

\[GUN COCKS\]

\[METAL CLANKS\]

Michael?

Where is he?

\[METAL CLANKS\]

Don’t move.

\[ROARS\]

What the hell?

Everybody down to the lab now.

\[WALKIE BEEPS\]

Roger that.

\[GRUNTS\]

Don’t shoot!

\[ALARM BLARING\]

Michael!

\[FOX GROANING\]

Stop!

\[GROWLS\]

Michael.

\[GROWLS\]

It’s just me.

\[ALARM BLARING\]

It’s just me.

\[POUNDS ON GLASS\]

Michael, please.

Michael, stop!

Stop! Please!

You’re hurting yourself! Stop!

Hey! Step back! Move!

Stop. Put that gun down…

Move!

\[GROWLING\]

\[GROANS\]

\[SCREAMS\]

\[YELLS\]

Shit. Close it! Close it!

What the hell is that thing?

\[♪♪♪\]

\[ROARS\]

Fall back! Fall back!

Shit.

MAN 1: Let’s move.

MAN 2: Go, go, go!

\[GROANS\]

Johnny!

\[GRUNTING\]

\[SCREAMS\]

\[MORBIUS GROWLS\]

Get out of here!

MAN \[OVER RADIO\]: Sweeping Level 3.

Jason, come in.

Jason. Jason?

\[SCREAMS\]

Oh, shit.

Son of a bitch!

\[GROANS\]

Shit! Oh!

Oh, shit!

\[HIGH-PITCHED SCRAPING\]

\[GROANS\]

\[GAGGING\]

\[MORBIUS GROWLS\]

\[PANTING\]

\[SCREAMS\]

\[ROARS\]

\[GASPS\]

\[♪♪♪\]

\[BREATHING HEAVILY\]

Martine.

Martine.

\[HEART BEATING STEADILY\]

\[WHISPERS\] Oh, my God.

\[VOMITS\]

\[GROANS\]

\[BREATHING HEAVILY\]

\[FEEDBACK OVER RADIO\]

Mayday, mayday, mayday.

This is the LCV Murnau.

Call letters 3-X5Y.

We are 13 nautical miles off the coast of Long Island.

Request immediate airlift.

Repeat, this is the LCV Murnau.

Mayday, mayday, mayday.

\[♪♪♪\]

It’s up here to the right.

\[PEOPLE CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY\]

FBI Agent Stroud. Can we have the room, please?

RODRIGUEZ: You heard the man. Can we please have the room?

If you could start exiting, that’d be fantastic.

Well, we haven’t had anything this good since that thing in San Francisco.

Uh, eight bodies, running IDs right now, but apparently they all shop at the same mercenary supply store.

Uh, one survivor, a Dr. Martine Bancroft.

Can we talk to her?

If she wakes up.

Uh, she fell down and hit her head, apparently.

Anything else?

Someone made a mayday call.

Not Dr. Bancroft.

Nope.

It was a male, didn’t identify himself, then wiped all the surveillance footage.

SIMON: He grew a conscience and jumped overboard?

It happens. Oh, and get this.

All the bodies that you’re looking at are nearly drained of their blood.

So, what hunts at night and drinks human blood?

You’re gonna love this.

REPORTER: Early this morning an unmanned cargo ship was discovered near the eastern tip of Long Island with multiple bodies on board.

Authorities are not making any comment at this time.

But there are reports of one survivor, and we have learned from a high-ranking Coast Guard official that the vessel was flying a Panamanian flag when it drifted in from international…

What’s happened?

Some kind of accident.

How’s your pain today? On a one to ten?

Eleven.

\[TONE SOUNDS, THEN MAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY OVER PA\]

\[MONITOR BEEPING STEADILY AND VENTILATOR HISSING\]

\[TONE SOUNDS, THEN MAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY OVER PA\]

\[WHISPERS\] I’m sorry.

You’re going to be okay.

\[♪♪♪\]

here you all go!! also I did have to read though this whole thing to make sure it wasn’t anything bad because I actually didn’t know what Morbius was lmao and idk if this is even the whole script (also i’m so incredibly sorry to everyone…. including myself, bc my phone is glitching so badly trying to post this)

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

A child's fear and apology.

From @strawberryscarecr0w's post about Auron having a nightmare. My idea of what happened in that room with the gun, choking (He didn't men too he sorry- please). I apologize in advance-

Auron was standing somewhere? looking around everything seemed...oh no.

BANG

Flinching he saw a door cracked open, light bleeding out of a fireplace. He knew all too well what would be behind that door if he creaked it open. But he didn't have control of his body, slowly he walked to the door and involuntarily opened it. There, right there, was him, younger, way to young to be holding that fucking gun. Breathing became more quicker as he looked to the floor where the younger version of himself was looking.

It was him, laying down holding the bullet wound where the younger him shot. Not deadly but if not treated quickly can kill him. Haunting eyes looked at his younger self, then he chuckled, god he hated that fucking chuckle had had. His skin crawled when ever he did so because he did it when he had the upper hand...

That bastard got up, as if he was bullet proof. Younger him backed up in surprise clutching the gun and raising it only for it to sound off a click. Fuck he needed another bullet! Hectic breathing was all AUuon could hear as his younger self stepped back to get distance looking for the other bullet in his pocket. But shaky hands dropped it and it rolled to his step dad.

"Fuck-" The older man lunged fore Auron's younger self hands turning into claws and becoming demon like. Auron's older self yanked the kid to him and they merged?

"What..." Chuckling was his answer as he looked up to the older man in front of him. Fuck he was shorter and younger again, his body is trembling before this man again. The years of being away from this man cracking the confidence he built over the years is being ripped away from him. Again.

"Didn't I tell you boy? You can't hurt me!" Cold dead hands held him and shook him. Resentment of the man before him caused Auron t finally move, so he grabbed for his throat. Snarling Auron gripped as hard as he could, fuck this lowlife for hurting his mom, Trish, Faust, and him!

He was able to get that waste of space off of him and on his back where Auron held tight. The older man squirmed as he slapped Auron's arms and clawed at his hands. Just shouting his name, Auron Auron AuRON AURON-

"AURON!" Screeching as he finally snapped out of it and saw he was.....chocking Rook?!

"What-ACK-" A punch was thrown at his throat and he was kicked in the stomach off of Rook. Who was gasping for air coughing up saliva that was coming up their throat. Pained cries were heard as Rook got to their knees on the bed looking at him in fear. No no no no no no!

"Rook I-" Reaching out his hand was slapped hard.

"Don't TOUCH ME!" Rook curled into themselves to make them seem smaller in the bed. They flinched when they saw his face "Just...not right now please." On the floor Auron felt numb, he hurt them? He fucking HURT THEM. Tears began to fall as he looks at his hands and buries his head in them. fuck fuck fuck-

"Auron...it's ok-" Snapping his head up he shouted "NO IT ISN'T! THIS IS NOT OKAY ROOK!" He closed his eye as Rook flinched at him. They were shaking, he was shaking fuck this really is a shitty night. A creak was heard as Rook slipped down to where Auron was sitting, they were looking at the floor with tears. Fuck the bruising on their neck was dark already.

"I know, I just....I want to make you feel better. I'm sorry-" Auron let out a pained noise.

"No. Don't apologize if anyone has too it NEEDS to be me. I'm so fucking sorry Rook. I...I- ffuck I'm-" Warmth engulfed him as Rook held his waist. And began to sob, "I...I was so fucking scared Auron....What happened?" Auron just held Rook as he sobbed too. He felt like that same kid again, crying because his step father pushed him too hard again during training days.

"I...I need to tell you something. It'll explain how this happened. And Rook?" Eyes peered up to him, puffy and wet from sobbing their heart out. "If I ever do that again please. Hurt me." Their mouth dropped at those words.

"NO! I would-" Auron gave them a pleading look and they stopped. Looking into his eyes they nodded, Auron then breathed before thinking here to start.

"My step father, I shot him when I was younger." Arms gripped him tighter as his lover said nothing.

[soundprooft-visualz]

Humans are Space Orcs: Snipers

“I’m willing to put money on the fact you miserable fucks thought you got us all. No matter what records you dig through, what you look at, how hard you search, you won’t find us all.”

The communications relay post was a hive of activity as the first human voice crackled across a broad spectrum of wavelengths, completely flooding all lines of communication and making any kind of signals impossible to get out clearly. 

“See, what you fail to underestimate is the depth of human tenacity. I figure before I set to work, I can tell you what it is I’ve been up to these last few years. I’ve been in a cave.”

The officers scrambled to activate outdated technology that the human may have overlooked, but when the radio turned on it screeched an awful, high pitched noise before it synced up with the other devices emitting the low, gruff voice. 

“I’ve been eating bugs. Drinking water that dripped off the roof. Once in a while, when things got scarce, I’d head out for a day. But never longer. Didn’t want to risk your little drones spotting me. Been putting together a little something for you all to think about. You fought our armies, our units, our revolutionaries. You can find them, they’ll show themselves easy enough.”

The officers couldn’t do anything but sit and listen, pincers clacking nervously. 

“Finding one man is different. I am different, and I have decided that only one of you needs to survive for me to get my message out. Humanity is still here. We’re coming for you. ALL of you.”

The signal faded away to silence. A moment later there was the crackly sound of an exhalation on a microphone before a small red dot appeared on the lead communication officer’s head. They all stared in silence, confused as to the appearance of the laser right up until xir head exploded into blue goo and the window shattered, spraying us all in broken glass as we stood in stunned silence. A second later we heard a gunshot from a human ballistic weapon, somewhere far, far off in the distance. Moments later a leg was shot out from beneath another one of the aliens. Nothing made a sound but the wounded, screaming and clutching his leg until another shot through the head silenced him permanently. The two remaining aliens dove for cover, but a bullet found one’s chest in midair, throwing it against the wall behind it, leaving a blue trail as it slid down the wall. The last aliens breathing was fast and heavy as it reached it’s hand out for the rifle left out in the open, shaking fingers outstretched until-

The red dot appears in the middle of his talons, blowing it clean off and sending a burning pain through his whole body as xey gasped for air against the agony in their body. Only the human’s voice rang through the communcations signal, a low growl of a laugh and the sound of a magazine hitting the ground. 

“You can tell ‘em. I’m coming for them next.”

[horseshoegirl]

Set Me Alight - Part 3: You're So Vain

📜Back to our regularly scheduled broadcasting of these two in the present day, trying to 'not' kill each other. Maybe...

❗️+18, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character, Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Verbal fights, bullying, camping, injury, pranks, and angry/snarky Midge.

#7.9k

Part 2 | Masterlist | Part 4

*Present Day*

"Rise and shine, sleepyheads!"

Metal banging. Metal fucking banging. That was the noise you heard outside your tent as you woke up, groaning and hiding your face into your tiny pillow.

Somebody was clanging the ever-livin' shit out of a metal pot outside your tent. You had a pretty good feeling who, and it only made you reach for the edges of your sleeping bag to pull it tighter over your head.

Grace in the tent next to you whined out, "Somebody, please turn it off!"

"It's fucking six in the morning, Jake!" Bradley called out hoarsely from somewhere across the campsite.

The banging stopped, followed by Jake calling out, "We have to get a move on if we want to get a good campsite for tonight!"

It wasn't even past lunch, past breakfast, and he was more worried about where he was going to sleep tonight.

It's a hiking trip, not navigating the fucking airport.

You moaned, rolling onto your back and calling out, "Who made you the alarm cock?" before faking a loud cough and following up with, "Oops, I mean clock."

There was a pause. Then, all of a sudden, you could hear the sound of leaves being crunched under a pair of boots approaching your tent. Within two seconds, the person grabbed the fabric at the top of your tent and started to pull. Your entire tent shook, and you screeched as the flimsy plastic bars holding it up appeared as if they would snap at any second.

Covering your eyes with your forearm, you shouted out, "Jake, stop it! You asshole! You're going to break my tent!"

He didn't. At least not right away. Jake pulled at least another five times before he decided to stop, laughing loudly and obnoxiously.

"You could always share with me! Come on, you don't think that would be fun? We could tell ghost stories and all the gossip. Maybe even share a sleeping bag and keep each other warm."

Clearly, he had already forgotten about the little fight and agreement, if you could call it such, yesterday.

"Over my fucking dead body," you deadpanned, throwing your arm back to the ground with a thump.

"It's too early for your guy's shit!"

That could have been Javy, you thought, but it also could have been Mickey. Either one could have been just as equally pissed off at waking up at any time before ten.

"Tell that to him," you called back. "I was asleep!"

Collective groans sounded off around the campsite, singling Jake had succeeded in waking everyone else up with his antics. You don't know whether to laugh or cry. If he wanted to start shit this early, there was no telling what else he was going to pull as the day went on. Because if this was anything to go by, Jake had no intentions of staying out of your

That didn't mean you would, though.

You weren't going to pull anything. At least, not until this trip was over. 

There were some shuffling noises in the dirt before Jake finally called out to you from a distance, "Time to get up, Midge! We aren't going to wait for you!"

Maybe you could find Poison Ivy somewhere out in the bush and stuff it into his bag on the last day. 

Sighing once, you stretched against the bed roll, deciding you probably should get up. You were hankering for a cup of coffee, and you knew without a doubt you'd need the caffeine to get through the day.

It took you a few minutes to get dressed and organize your sling bag so your paints and brushes would be within easy reach. To make up for the half day yesterday because Nat was about fairness, Jake would take charge of the compass for one more day. If he could manage to follow the instructions on the back of the map, ones you and Nat had laid out, you should be stopping at a cliffside for an incredible view of Mount Rainer at a distance for lunch.

Just as you stepped outside of your tent, you were greeted by the sound of footsteps approaching. You turned your head, spying Veronica making her way to the entrance of your tent.

“Ah, Morning, Midge.”

You want to either hide or hurl. Maybe even both.

Your interactions with her had been limited at best. She and Javy had only started dating two years ago, and even then, encounters with her were limited to larger social gatherings. You often suspected she preferred it that way. Between going to school and being a social media influencer, there was not a time when you saw her without her phone, capturing moments with Jessica or Javy, even Nat, only to turn them into content for her TikToks.

There was not a time when you didn’t see her with Jessica either. The two of them seemed inseparable, the dynamic so ingrained into your mind that it was difficult to separate the two. Wherever one went, the other was guaranteed close behind.

“Painting in the wild, I see?” she said, gesturing to her bag. “Never thought you’d get out of the studio.”

That was the thing about Veronica. She was as hot and cold towards you as they come. What you ever did to her, you will never know.

You huffed a laugh. “Surprised you even knew I have a studio.”

“I keep tabs on everyone,” she declared, bringing her hand up to flick at a bright pink manicured nail. With her hand still raised, she eyed you with a narrow stare. "Sold any of your paintings yet?"

You would never admit it aloud, but her comment hit a nerve. As it probably was meant to. It was common knowledge throughout the friend group you were trying to gain more recognition as an artist. While it was true you probably didn’t hit the ‘big wig’ level Veronica believed to be the pinnacle of success, you had indeed sold some of your paintings to a small but dedicated following. Playing the long game was better than producing something with no quality.

But it had been a few months with no success. Something Veronica, being who she was, would have latched on to without remorse.

Why she had decided to be a bitch to you this morning, you weren’t sure why.

“And what’s your point of asking me that? Cause I know for a fact it's not cause you care about what I paint.”

"I just thought I'd check in on your little hobby and see if it's going anywhere," Veronica said, her tone evidently laced with condescension. "But clearly, you're too sensitive to take a bit of friendly interest."

You laughed. Hard.

“Is this just your way of feeling important this morning? Because, honestly, you could try something new, like minding your own business for a change. I don't ask you why you don't have brands jumping into your DM's to collaborate with you."

Veronica’s face started to flush a bright shade of red, her shoulders stiffening. You watched it happen, not before your eyesight shifted to the group of people standing next to the firepit. Jessica was watching the two of you interact with wide eyes and a smug smile stretching across her face.

You knew right away why Veronica had approached you. Clearly, she woke up deciding to be that attack dog on the other side of a very, very tight leash.

You barely registered Veronica as she brushed past in a fury. Her elbow made a swift, seemingly accidental contact with the bend of your arm and your bag. In an instant, the bag’s flap came undone, and your paintbrushes, their case, and your tin case of watercolour paints clattered to the ground, scattering in all directions.

Your heart sank fast, a sense of panic twisting a knife in your stomach at the thought of any damage being wrought.

"Oops, how clumsy of me," Veronica said, her tone dripping with feigned innocence. She didn't stop or look back, continuing her path as if nothing had happened, already seeking out Jessica standing by the firepit with everyone else.

You knelt as you heard slight giggles in the distance as you reached for the first brush, wanting to inspect it for damages. Watercolour brushes were expensive, if not delicate. You wouldn’t have risked bringing them on such a journey if not for how easy it was to use watercolours for this type of thing. Not to mention eco-friendly.

Luckily, no damage had been done from what you could see on the one, and the tin case of paints had landed in a soft spot of mud. The tin had mud gracing its surface, but you knew the tiny pucks within wouldn’t have split with such a soft landing. The thought makes you sigh with relief.

"Here, Maeve, I'll help you out." 

You looked up to see Bob kneeling down next to you, reaching for your paints. Despite the knot in your stomach, a soft smile graced your face, and you thanked him quietly, reaching for the farthest brush away from you. 

"Don't let him get to you. Or Veronica. They are just being shit disturbers." 

You scoffed, adding the brush to the pile Bob had created. "I didn't know we'd be encountering more than one ignoranus on this trip." 

Bob paused for a second, raising his eyebrow thoughtfully before he let out a snort and reached for your brush case. "You know that's not actually in the dictionary." 

"One can dream." 

Bob shook his head, beginning the process of sliding each brush back into their individual slots.

“Can I help with anything?” Nat asked as she walked by with a smile on her face.

She did not see any of that, you realize. You shook your head, managing a tight grin as you titled your head towards Bob. “I think we have it covered. Thanks though. Could you maybe snag me a cup of coffee?”

Nat nodded, making her way over to the drip pot someone had brought. You watched her go, feeling a small sense of relief at the thought of a hot cup of coffee. It was a minor consolation but welcome, nonetheless. However, when Nat returned, her hands were empty, and her expression was apologetic.

“Jake packed it all away,” she said.

Of. Course .

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Your voice had risen more than you intended, causing Jake to glance over at you from his chair. You narrowed your eyes at him as Nat left you to join Bradley.

“So, I can’t even have a cup of coffee before we set off on the hike?” Your tone was sharp, your annoyance with the situation, with Jake, with the entire morning, everything.

“We need to hit the road, Midge. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

“A big deal?” You couldn’t believe his nonchalance.  “Silly of me for expecting a bit of normalcy on this trip.”

"You can’t always get what you want, Midge," he shrugged from his chair, a grin on his face. "There's some hot water left, though."

Jake turned his head back in the direction of Ruben, who was standing over the grill covering the fire, stirring some oatmeal, and you couldn't help but hang your mouth open.

The sheer audacity of his remark makes you fall back on your heels, glaring at him. You're pretty sure you're breathing fire. And if they could, your eyes would be turning a pretty shade of bright ruby red, directed at him. You want to stand between his spread legs as he sits in that fold-up chair. You want to grab the hair at the back of his head and yank. Maybe even knee him in the groin when he wasn't looking and make him grunt with pain.

"Ah, you alright there, Midge?"

"Just dandy," you gruffed out to Bob, not taking your eyes off Jake as he slipped his coffee, the red 295 ml YETI rambler encompassed solely by the palm of his hand.

He probably just got it, along with all his other camping gear. It would totally be something only he would do, rich kid prick.

He looked like it, too. Lounging in that Green and brown Patagonia sweater that probably cost more than anything you owned. And his watch - vintage, clearly expensive, and limited edition. That one accessory on his wrist probably held more monetary value than any piece you'd ever or would create. It was infuriating how good he looked, how effortlessly everything seemed to come to him. Even you couldn't deny that frustrating fact. 

So did Jessica, it would seem, waltzing over to where he was sitting with a certain gleam in her eyes, one that said she knew exactly what she was doing. 

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, your fingers clumsily searching for your brushes without success. Your eyes, however, never strayed from Jake. Your hand closed around one, and you brought it towards your lap, fully intending to place it with the others.  But watching them converse, you only gripped that single paintbrush tighter in your hand. 

And Jake, damn him, just soaked it all up. He was basking in her attention like it was the most natural thing in the world. He lounged back in his seat, practically radiating confidence as he gleamed up at her, letting her stroke at his shoulder.

She had no shame ogling at him, even flirting with Jake when her boyfriend was literally right there, making her breakfast for her. The thin piece of wood of your painter's brush nearly snapped under the pressure of your tightening grip.

Bob placed his hand on your shoulder, lightly squeezing it once, then twice, bringing you out of your heated glare. You shook your head, eyes meeting Bob's friendly face. "I know it doesn't compare, but I have some tea in my bag instead. I can make you a cup?"

Your anger calmed under Bob's kindness, and you loosened your grip on the thin piece of wood, letting your thumb stroke absentmindedly over the spot where you had pressed into it. There was an indent from your nail, and you cursed to yourself.

These were brand new, too.

You nodded at him with a swallow. "That's kind of you, Bob. Only if you are making one for yourself."

He returned your nod with a smile, getting up to find his bag. You however, turned your gaze back to Jake, though less intense.

How you would get through the day, you had no idea.

Poison ivy, yes. In his underwear? Definitely.

----

Barely.

Just. Fucking. Barely.

That was your answer to your question. You're pretty sure your tongue has permanent bite marks scarred into it from how many times you resisted the overwhelming urge to call Jake out on his bullshit.

Why did you decide to be the bigger person? You honestly can't say why. But the urge was there in everything Jake did, whether it was opening his mouth or simply standing still.

It was the exact same as yesterday. You're at the back again with Cora and Grace. You attempt to add to the conversation where you can, but being the last person, your position puts you in the prime spot to people-watch.

It's difficult not to keep your eyes off Jake. He's drawing attention even when he's not doing anything noteworthy. It was even worse when every time Jessica or Veronica seemed to complement his skills flirtatiously, he flirted back. No doubt enjoying the attention and making it all about him.

Not to mention how he selectively listened to certain members of the group more than others. Like Bob, who pointed out the tracks of a deer in the mud along the trail. And how the deeper indent on one of the tracks indicated it sensed you guys were coming, for it to twist and take off into the bush.

Jake spoke over him, talking to Bradley about dinner, who was seemingly genuinely interested in what Bob had to say.

That one bothered you the most. Even when the group finally reached the outlook for lunch, it still played on your mind. So much so you had sat there for the better half of the lunch break, your sketchbook thrown across your lap and a brush in hand, staring up at the famous volcano, not once putting paint to the page.

Why did he always have to make everything about him?

And yet, you still had said nothing. Not then, and not even when you all packed up and left. Not one thing. You weren't going to do it.

So, what, exactly, was your tipping point?

When Jake suggested the entire group deviate off the trail and up the side of a small steep hill, though it looked more like a cliff face.

"No fuckin way."

Mickey grimaced. Bob stepped away from you. Cora and Grace huddled together, and Nat dropped her head only to wince, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. Bradley even held his arm out in front of Jake.

"Midge..."

"That's too steep for all of us with the stuff we are carrying!"

"We'll save an hour and a half going this way!"

"And risking everyone's safety for the sake of 'practicality' is just reckless. We're not all expert climbers, Seresin! One hour and a bit is nothing!"

You stepped forward, making a swipe for the map. Jake lifted it out of your way before you could grab it; however, the compass fell, and you reached down to collect it before he forgot about it.

In the midst of this, Veronica and Jessica watched from the sidelines. Jessica's face was alight with a mix of excitement at the unfolding drama and irritation that Jake's attention was so fixated on Midge.

"Guys, let's just think this through," Nat said, trying to mediate, while Bradley echoed, "There's no need to turn this into a bigger issue."

"Yes, Jake," you said pointedly. "There is no need to turn this into an issue when there was none in the first place." Your voice rose with each word, not quite angry but not civilized either.

"I'm not suggesting anything we can't handle, Midge."

"Really? Are you forgetting Mickey and Javy are carrying the food, which already weighs a shit ton? How are we going to manage to get it all the way up that?" you asked, gesturing to where they were standing, packs resting at their feet. "Or how Cora and Veronica are carrying their tents, on top of their own things? How can they climb something with that much weight on their backs?"

"Less time to be carrying everything, don't you think?"

"If you look at the map, the route we've planned out is smoother and easier on all of us. And predictable! We could lose our way by taking a different path."

Cora piped up from the back. "I agree with Maeve."

Grace nodded with her, as did Bob and Mickey. Bradley turned, placing his hand on Jake's shoulder. "Jake, I think we should listen..."

But Jake shrugged him off, stepping towards you.

"Midge, I've no doubt about your talent in leading a brush on canvas. But navigating in the wild? That's a whole different kind of art form, one you're clearly not as proficient at."

"Jake," Nat shouted. "That was very uncalled for!"

Something dropped in your stomach, and your eyes started to burn.

"Fine," you stated firmly. "You know what, I'm out. I. Am. Out."

Truly, you meant to gently toss the compass to him in the hopes he'd see it coming and reach out to catch it. You wanted to be rid of it and the conversation as quickly as you could. You were done. Done arguing, done caring and offering your opinion when it was dead-set clear Jake didn't care about it anyway.

But as you threw it, your anxiety took over. What should have been a simple toss turned into a frustrated, heavy-handed fling, like you were skipping a stone across a large lake. The compass flew faster, harder, and higher up than you intended, striking Jake squarely on the forehead.

Collective gasps shot around the group, yours included.

My bad doesn't even begin to cover it.

You don't know what's worse. The feeling of guilt settling in your stomach over it hitting his head, or for having felt that feeling of said guilt.

The silence throughout the group was just as bad, too.

"Enough!" Nat is the one to break it first, coming to stand between the two of you, her arms stretched out. Jake has a hand on his forehead, rubbing the skin through the back of his baseball cap. Your mouth is closed, and your nostrils are flaring hard with each rapid breath you take, purposely averting your eyes to stare at the ground.

"Given we have all this stuff we have to carry, we are sticking with Midge and I's original plan. We didn't spend all that time 'mathing' the hell out of those trails for nothing."

Not that you saw it, but Jake raised his eyebrows at Nat's words, his eyes then shooting to your body, taking in how you were looking at the ground.

"You and Midge planned the whole thing out?"

You lifted your head, squinting your eyes. "I know my way around more than just a paintbrush, Seresin."

"Midge..."

"Just save it, Jake," you snap, your voice on the verge of breaking. "You don't need to add to the damage that's already been done."

Without another word, you turn on your heel, holding yourself by your elbows across your chest as you go to hide behind Cora and Grace. Cora offered you a sad smile as you passed her, offering you her hand from behind her back as you came to a stop. She pulled you directly behind her so she might shield you from the looks of the rest of the group.

You didn't say a word to anyone else for the rest of the hike.

---

It was no lakeside or real private area, but the campfire Bob put up was a welcome companion. It's soft crackling, popping, and heat made you feel comfortable against the eerie feeling of being surrounded by the woods this late into the evening.

You were deeper into the park than yesterday, this campsite slightly bigger than yesterday. Despite Jake's instance that none of you would find a campsite for tonight, there are no other hikers around. It's simply just your group, so you have this place all to yourselves.

It doesn't feel like it. Out beyond the treeline, you are sure something is watching you. Stalking you. There are hidden shapes in the dark, moving and transforming with every searching look. Each rustle of the bushes or sweep of wind makes you hold yourself tighter, the concept that anything can happen in the woods was becoming real with each passing second.

Last night seemed to be okay. But now? You have no idea how you were going to manage to fall asleep tonight.

Nat and Bradley took off the second they got their tent up and ate dinner. You're not sure where, but you were positive it had something to do with getting some 'alone time.' Everyone else seemed to go off and do their own thing as well. You couldn't say you blamed them.

You wanted to escape, too.

You try to focus on the flames roaring out of the pit. Each orange twists as they reach towards the sky. Each colour changed as each flame tracked higher and higher. You think about how you would paint them, how each stroke would form the flame.

Until you aren't because the colour of the stone pit, the dull grey, reminds you of the compass. And everything from today comes rushing back in, accompanied by intense feelings of shame.

You had let your anger get the best of you. You knew that. You knew you shouldn't have thrown that compass directly at Jake's head. It wasn’t one of your prouder moments; the yelling and insults were as far as you’d ever want your dislike for Jake to go. Even after how he talked shit behind your back, he still didn’t deserve that happening to him.

You remembered the weight of the compass in your hand, the moment it left your fingers, and then the instant regret as it struck Jake. You closed your eyes, shaking your head.

It happened before it was too late.

So was the nature of these things with you, too. Even with your own family. A comment made here, voicing an opinion there. Then, the bitter feeling of wanting to be right and only to be right because that opinion should be recognized as fact.

And after every time, you always left regretting having ever opened your mouth in the first place.

Besides Cora and Grace, nobody seemed to want to talk to you either. Everyone avoided you, and you understood why.

Maybe you did deserve the silent treatment after all. The more you thought about it, the more it made sense, feeling the same feeling you fought to bury in the years after leaving school. You had been too much. Or not enough.

Maybe you were difficult to be around. Maybe it was you, not Jake. Maybe it was your presence that was the burden, more than you had ever realized. Maybe you had no right to feel hurt for what Jake said to that girl about you that night on Halloween.

You sniffed hard, wiping at your eyes.

Maybe I might be the problem after all.

Something covered in plastic landed directly on your lap with a dull thump.

"Tag, you're it."

Speak of the devil, he shall appear. 

You looked down, the compass and the map carefully placed into a clear plastic bag. You didn't bother lifting your head, mocking a two-finger salute against your forehead as you set your eyes back on the flames.

"Thanks, Seresin."

It was wishful thinking on your part to think he'd leave you alone. You fully expected him to after you caught a glimpse of the small welt on his forehead while he was putting up his tent. The visual image made you wince.

Jake didn't move. Rather, he stood over you, staring down as if he was waiting for you to say something else. Looking for an apology, perhaps.

As fucking if. You weren’t going to offer jack shit, not when he thought of you as he did.

"Can I help you?" you huffed, purposely keeping your eyes off him. You knew full well he'd be pissed you weren't giving him your full attention. Maybe deep down, seeing the evidence of your outburst marring his forehead would have been too much for you.

Him seeing you crying would be but another victory he had over you, too.

"You know we have the waterfall on the list tomorrow, right?"

You scoffed, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. You didn't miss a beat when you causally threw out behind a tired smirk, "You plotting to push me off the ledge? Tell everyone I tripped and get rid of me for once and for all?"

"Temping, but no." Jake's response was quick. "I was thinking about us not getting lost. Don't be admiring the scenery too much to pay attention to the map."

Oh. This fucking asshole. No shit, that was for the compass.

"What? The treeline? The mountains? In a National Park? Or are you implying you're the thing I couldn't keep my eyes off?" you scoffed. "You wish, Seresin. I don't spend my time staring at assholes all day. I would rather admire the scenery that's actually worth it."

You could feel the tension radiating off him as he stood next to you. Probably clenching his fists, gritting his teeth. His jaw was clenched, and you could picture his jugular vein pulsing in his neck.

"Why? Admiring the view you're never going to paint?"

You bit your tongue.

Big. Fucking. Ouch. 

But then the realization struck you. He was watching you at lunch today. Why?

"You seem quite invested in what I paint. Care to explain why? Or are cheap shots your new favourite thing? You seem to be doing a lot of that lately."

Jake remained silent, not bothering to answer what seemed like a very legitimate question.

He lets out a tuff of air, crossing his arms across his chest. You can feel the retort coming on the tip of his tongue, ready to lash out. It never comes. Instead, he swiftly turns the conversation back to the reason he approached you in the first place. 

You almost wish he didn't. Almost.

"The waterfall, Midge. Bradley's thinking about using it as his chance to purpose." 

You rolled your eyes. "You don't say? I wonder whoever gave him that idea, hmm?" 

"I'm just saying, don't mess it up for them." 

"I'm not going to be the one to mess it up," you argued. "I'm not the one that nearly got us killed today or the one that started shit first thing in the morning." 

Jake huffed, his shoulders dropping hard. "You know what I mean." 

"Do I? Do I really?" you call out sarcastically. "A man, whose every interaction I've had with him since I can remember, always ending up in a fight, is telling me I know what he means. I wonder how you got to that conclusion."

There is a pause.

"It didn't mean it like that."

"Mhm."

"Midge, I didn't mean it like that."

"It doesn't matter. You made your point, Jake. Don't mess it up. I got it."

The bitter sting of his words makes itself known in the quiver of your bottom lip. You shake your head once, finally allowing yourself to look up at him, attempting to pin him with a stare.

"If that's all, Seresin."

Your eyes land on the chair bag slung over his shoulder instead.

"Please tell me you're not thinking about sitting here," you blurt out. 

What does the fucker do but suddenly light up and grin like it's the best idea in the world?

"It's a free country, Midge," he says, letting the chair fall from his shoulder.

"Yeah, no fucking thank you."

You went to stand, clutching the plastic bag to your thighs as your chair rocked slightly under the movement. Jake's voice, sharp and loud, made you stop.

"Come on now, Maeve. You're the one who didn't want to talk unless we were passing off the compass."

The use of your name, not Midge, makes you sit back down.

"Would it be the worst thing in the world to try and actually have a conversation with each other that doesn't have any insults being thrown around? Or objects?"

You grimaced.

Yes, is your immediate answer. Yes, it would be because it’s impossible.

You ignore the mention of the compass and the fact he's guilt-tripping you into staying because of it.

“Seriously? Civil is not even a word I would use to describe us. You bark, I bite.”

Jake dramatically pulled his chair apart, dropping it to the ground with the plastic legs clacking. Plopping himself down into the chair, he puts his feet up on the edge of the pit, crossing his legs at his ankles.

“Oh, so there is an us now? When did that happen?”

That five-second clip of that white cat yacking you’ve seen online comes to mind, and you are pretty sure whatever noise just came out of your mouth resembles that sound.

“Wow, nice one, Midge.”

You shot Jake a withering look. “If I had a dime for every time you’ve made me gag…”

Jake’s eyebrows shot high on his forehead. He licked his lips, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth only to bite down, the corners of his mouth turning up words.

You know right away what he’s thinking.

“Don’t…” you caution.

“Pun intended?” he huffs through a laugh.

You roll your eyes, turning your attention back to the firepit. “Why do men always think with their dicks.”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Shut up, Seresin.”

There's a moment of silence between the two of you after that. The sky turned even darker, and the warm, bright light of the firepit seemed to span out to flood the entire campsite. The wood crackled, crickets chirped, and the wind gently rustled the leaves on the trees overhead. You had stopped crying a few minutes ago, more surprised Jake was letting this much time pass between the two of you without saying anything.

You'd dare say you found yourself content, even if he was sitting somewhat next to you.

But when Jake decides to try again, this time on easier ground.

"Bradley's nervous," he said aloud. "Keeps wondering if he picked the right moment to do it. All he does is stare at that damn ring and ask if it’s going to go okay."

You still said nothing. Jake presses on.

"I didn't mean that you were going to mess up tomorrow. I didn't mean what I said about you and a paintbrush, either. I just.. want it to be perfect for them. It needs to be perfect for them. Bradley's done a lot for me. He deserves this going the way he wants."

"You don't think I want the same for Nat?" You suddenly challenged. "She's my best friend. Practically one of my only friends. If I can help make her happy, then you'd be damn sure I'll be doing everything I can to ensure she is."

A ball forms in the back of your throat at the words you just said aloud, wondering why the hell you said that to him, of all people. You do your best to swallow it down, even if you feel like choking.

You clear your throat, digging your nails into the space between your collarbone through your vest. "Bradley, too."

Jake nods to himself. "I remember when he came bursting through our dorm room, raving on about how Nat finally said yes." He smiles to himself. "He couldn't stop grinning until the day of. And then, I think he has a certain smile reserved just for her."

Nat had told you the story. She had only been dating Bradley for about a month when she moved in with you. He had spied her at one of his football games, approaching her afterwards and flirting. Nat kept him guessing, not saying no but not saying yes either.

She wanted to be sure Bradley wanted her for the right reasons, not as a jersey bunny, waiting on the sidelines in case he might decide to 'tap it.'

Even after all these years, the same smile she wore every time she came home from a date or was in Bradley's presence never left her face. The thought of it makes the edges of your mouth turn upwards.

"She has one for Bradley, too," you offer hesitantly, more out loud to yourself. "It's soft like she doesn't realize she's doing it until a small patch of skin crinkles around her eyes."

"Bradley twitches his moustache. The god-awful thing."

You sputter a laugh. "I remember the day he started growing it. What was he thinking?"

"That he wanted to star in a 70s cop show?" Jake remarked, a playful smirk on his face.

You chuckled. "Or a very ambitious caterpillar found a new home and hasn't left for the past two years."

Jake snorted. "I think he lost a bet with someone."

"It's a cry for help."

Jake nodded in agreement before he cocked his eyebrow at you, mischief in his eyes. "You hold him down; I'll shave it off?"

A squeak of laughter escaped through your closed mouth, your body jolting. There was a small smile too, despite your best efforts to hold your reaction back. But you couldn’t help it. Soon, with your eyes slammed shut and dimples forming on your face, your body rocked back and forth with open laughter.

You glanced once, then twice back at Jake, who was fighting his own reaction. He couldn’t resist the pull of it, letting his own laughter join yours. It made you laugh harder. Because it was a sound, you had never heard from him. It was hearty, deep, and it was genuine. Not laced in disdain or condensation.

You laughed harder because Jake Seresin was laughing with you. Not at you. And for the fact, there's a kinder warmth instead of a fire spreading across your chest.

As the laughter subsided, you both paused, a little surprised by the ease of the moment. Caught off guard, your eyes locked on to Jake’s, a soft gaze forming on his face. The one side of your mouth crooked upwards into a one-sided grin.

Maybe I shouldn’t have judged him so harshly for something he said in his youth? Maybe I have a part to play in this game of ours, too? Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought after all?

It didn't last long. Your smile was the one to fade first into a look of discomfort as you saw Jessica and Veronica approach the campfire. Jessica’s smile was wide, but her eyes didn't quite match the warmth of her expression, and like always, Veronica followed a step behind.

A chill shot up your spine, and you hugged yourself tighter, watching Jake look up at the pair with an adoring smile. It is only then you realize the shame you once felt before Jake arrived has returned with full force.

Ah, hello, you fine-flicked bastard.

"Having fun, are we?" Jessica chirped, her gaze flicking between Jake and Midge. "It seems you two have 'made up.'"

You had a pretty good idea of where this was going.

"I never took you for the outdoorsy type, Midge," she offered behind a sadistic grin.

You narrowed your eyes, a knowing smirk on your face.

Karma can be a bitch, and so can I.

“We can’t all be experts in social climbing, Jessica. But then again, I guess it’s hard to pay attention to anyone’s hobbies when you’re only around for the photo ops and the popularity points. The outdoors doesn’t really offer the kind of attention you’re usually after, does it?”

Her smile faltered, winding back into a tight grin. The whites of her knuckles shun as she balled her hand into a fist at her side. It took her a second, but she regained her composure, tossing her hair back and sporting a new sly smile.

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of dabbling in things like painting. Unlike some people, I have to adapt. It’s about being relevant and knowing how to appeal to a crowd.” She leaned forward slightly in your direction, voice dripping with faux concern. “Not everyone can seem to grasp that concept.”

Veronica smiled, narrowing her eyes at you.

“Oh, you mean how you jump on every trend?” You unwrap your arm from around your stomach, placing your elbow on the armrest and letting your chin rest on the back of your fingers. “I’ve seen your posts. Tell me something, honestly, do you ever stick with one long enough actually to see it through?”

You raised your eyebrows, expecting her to answer. Her face, even in this light, seemed to blend with the glow of the fire. To your surprise, Jake was even holding back a chuckle.

You can see the imaginary foot stomp she wanted to give from her facial expression alone.

“I can’t believe you’d say that, Midge. It’s like you’re always waiting to criticize me and everyone.”

You chuckle softly at the childish display. "If you're going to dish it out, be prepared to get it back. At least Jake understands that fact."

Jessica ignored you, stepping closer to Jake. "Why is she always like this? At least you know how to handle Midge's... let's say, 'artistic temperament.'"

"It's a nice game we have going."

Veronica quickly joined in, "Yeah, not everyone can keep up with her. But you've got a way of handling things. And her."

Oh, I'm going to be sick.

You tried to tune them out, dropping your chin to your chest. The red marker lines you made on the map through the bag seemed more interesting than listening to whatever bullshit those three were spurting.

You should get up. Leave. You didn’t want nor need to hear this. Hear them flirt yet again and fawn over Jake. You didn’t want to hear him reply in kind, either.

That was until Jake’s shout suddenly punched the air.

“Bear!”

Shrieking, you shot out of your chair, trying to turn around to spot the animal. But the action must have been too fast as the chair, never designed for such sudden shifts, as it wobbled, buckled and finally collapsed beneath you. And down you went with a sickenly loud and heavy thud.

"Oh, bless her heart, she fell for that," Veronica snickered through her laughter.

It takes you a second to realize you are on the ground. All you can think about, all you can feel, is the pain shooting up your arm from the base of your wrist. You want to curl into yourself against the dirt and cradle your injured hand to your chest. You want to make yourself as small as possible and blindly hope even if you knew they did, they didn't see you fall.

You just wanted them to leave you alone.

They wouldn't. Not for the right reasons. Even though there is buzzing in your ears, you can hear Jessica's and Veronica's laughter stretch out to the boundaries of the camp. Who wouldn't? Even the crickets and the subtle chirps of birds are no longer letting themselves be heard, probably scared off by the noises they are making. 

Between the two of them and Jake, they probably plotted to scare the shit out of you anyway.

The thought alone urges you to stand, tears unknowingly trailing down your cheeks as you hoist yourself up against the stones of the firepit. Jake was closer to you than he was before, hands swaying slightly like he was fighting the urge to help you.

You felt a wave of nausea as you gingerly tested your wrist, a sharp jolt of pain shooting up your arm with even the smallest movement. You couldn't even move it beyond the slight, bitter flex of your hand.

"Midge, I'm..."

Jake never got to finish his sentence. Jessica's sickly, sweet voice interrupted him. It was anything but - each word oozing out like molasses, but with a sharp, nasal edge that made the same damn shiver go up your spine as before.

“Bless your heart, Midge. You really ought to be more careful. Anything can happen in the woods.”

Veronica nodded in agreement, quickly adding, "If I had that much riding on my hand to make a living for myself, I wouldn't be going anywhere. Especially if your art is as delicate as your balance."

You felt blindsided, wrapping your good arm around your waist as if to shield yourself. More tears bit at the corners of your eyes as the spite of their words hit you, no courageous or witty retort coming to save you. You fought with yourself to make sure they didn't fall. It was a battle you lost almost instantly.

They had no idea what it was truly like. Nor would they. Standing behind Jake on either side, their faces shadowed by the light of the fire. The sight was menacing, and you couldn't help but feel like one of those small cartoon mice trapped in the corner of the room, a cat waiting to pounce on its prey.

You couldn't let them, let him, see you like this.

Suddenly, Jake was reaching for you, for your injured wrist. You shied from him, fighting tears as you pulled your arm to your chest. Fighting tears, you willed your shaky legs to carry you away from the campsite.  You were deaf to the shouts of your annoying nickname from Jake's lips and deaf to the words of Jessica and Veronica telling him to give it up and let you go.

Nothing you could have said or could have come up with for some smart-ass quip would have made a difference anyway.

"Maeve, wait!"

Through the blood rushing in your ears, you manage to hear Nat's voice. The sound makes you stop in your tracks, though you don't turn to face her. She's running to you from wherever she had been with Bradley, feet heavy on the dirt behind you. She reaches for the back of your arm, pulling herself around and in front of you.

You didn't look up from the ground, but you did throw your injured wrist behind your back, trying to hide the wince at the snap of pain shooting up your arm.

As she took in your face, wiping a smudge of dirt from your cheek, you could hear Bradley's voice from a distance snapping at Jake.

"What the hell, man! You were supposed to talk to her, not..."

"Are you okay?"

Nat's voice cuts off Bradley's, and you lift your eyes to meet hers.

You finally nodded, trying to keep the pain from your voice. "I'm okay. I'm just a little shaken he'd do something like that."

How much she saw, you didn't know. Nor would you let on, like this morning. The last thing you wanted was something else ruining this trip for her. You didn't want to elaborate either. You just wanted to be alone.

Nat took her teeth between her bottom lip, registering the tears on your face and your shaky breath. "Do you want me to tell him off? Cause I'll do it. I'll throw his ass straight into the firepit."

You shook your head, mumbling under your breath, "I'm just going to turn in for the night."

Her eyes tracked your body anxiously. She wanted to press you further, but she didn't know if she really could. You were already on the run from the others when she approached you, and you didn't even laugh when she mentioned Jake, literally on fire.

That would have made you light up in an instant.

"If that's what you want to do. Just... Just get me or Bradley if you need anything, okay? We're here for you."

You nodded quickly, biting down on the edges of your tongue. Nat's eyes lit up in concern before she mouthed an 'okay' and squeezed your shoulder once before letting you go. You didn't say anything else as you turned on your heel and practically ran from her and everyone else, hoping they would leave you be for the rest of the night.

The second you reached your tent, you dove head-first into the small space, desperately trying to hold in the sob crawling its way up the back of your throat. Reaching for the zipper with your good hand, you pressed your wrist to your chest, the slight contact making you hiss sharply. Your entire arm seemed to shake as you managed to pull the tab down to the ground, and you were surprised the teeth managed to connect with the zipper on each wobbly tug.

The second the tent plunged into darkness, you rocked back, landing hard on your butt and finally allowed those tears and haunting cries to escape.

The first one was muffled, the sound just passing through your clenched teeth and closed mouth. You were trying to stifle the surge of anger and helplessness you felt, unable to do anything but hope there wouldn't be any lasting damage from his little 'joke.'

Holding your hand out, you gripped your pulsing wrist with the other, pressing your forehead into your sleeve. Rocking with the waves of pain, your hand was permanently locked into a claw, trying to flex under the surmounting pain and tendons straining under the throbbing ache.

How dare he?! How dare he pull something like that when he knew there was a chance something could have happened to you? He knows damn well how much your career as a paint rode on your wrist, your entire hand?!

A million thoughts surfaced, fighting against one another in your head.

Years of studying, refining your natural talent as your teachers told you, could be gone just like that. All because Jake couldn't help himself. He just had to rile you up. To piss you off. Because any attempt for him to play nice and to come with the other shoulder being dropped.

He would never listen to you. He would never 'like' you. He made that abundantly clear. And suddenly, you felt stupid for thinking a mere few minutes ago that there was a small sliver of hope Jake was capable of change.

Why you even thought he could, even for a second, you'd never know.

There was a slight rustle of leaves outside, and you lifted your head, biting your lip, a slight jolt of anxiousness and fear running through you. It could have been anything outside your tent: an animal, the wind, another person. But as quickly as you heard it, it was gone, and the following silence stretched on, making you believe whatever you had heard was a trick on your ears.

You turned toward your backpack, single-handedly searching for the tiny first aid box inside. In the darkness of your tent, your fingers finally wrapped around its edges, and you pulled it free from being buried under the rest of your things. Another cry rolled its way up your throat as you pinned the lid with your elbow against the ground, working to free the clasps on the box.

The lid popped free, and you dove for the tensor bandage wedged up in the corner, flicking the metal holders loose and bringing the stretchy material up to your mouth. Setting your teeth into the end of the bandage, you spun it out, then took the end that was in your mouth and wrapped it around the bend of your thumb.

You had seen your brother do it enough times, either to yourself or other people. The Doctor in the family who always seemed eager to showcase his talents, the steps seemed to be permanently etched into your mind without your permission. Bunch it here, pull there, and remember to watch the tendon around your thumb.

You'd no sooner seek out Cora or Mickey to help you out, but you doubted anyone would want to put up with your sorry excuse of an ass after today. Or risk the chance of something else happening.

Besides, even you can't fuck this up, your brother would say each time you hurt yourself as a kid, looking down at you and pulling the bandage with a cocky smile.

He would have done it better. He would have done it right. Nobody would have questioned him about it, either.

But your brother faded from your mind as you painstakingly wrapped your hand, hot tears streaming down your face. Each shout at each twitch and stab of pain only seemed to break down your resolve.

Because the one thought going through your mind was clear as day...

Boundary be gone, Seresin. I'm not holding back any longer.

This. Meant. War.

Are we out of the woods yet? 👀

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Part 4 - One Way or Another - coming soon!

[cowgirlcherrie]

after the storm. ⚡︎ florist! abby drabble

╰   * a/n: no plot for this either but rather a spin off on my headcanons ! just a little treat for my patient babis who were waiting for more ♡ in simple words this is about happy accidents. . .

song(s) — after the storm. kali uchis & tyler the creator , falling in love. laufey

3:40pm new york. 

Abby didn’t do love.

Although it would be nice and she yearned for it. She wished with the very small penny that she would find in her sage dickies, somewhere blanketed with an old mint gum wrapper and her brown leather wallet in her pocket. Tossing her very last penny into the Washington Square Park fountain wishing for a lover as considerate or even more than her. One to build flowers for and be her muse. 

One to make stockings with around the holidays where she would plant mistletoe around the house, using it as an excuse to merge lips with her lover; and to make floral centerpieces for the family dinners.

Was it too much to ask for?

Abby felt like a late-bloomed flower in comparison to her peers. They were going to wine and dining events with their partners, fancy yachts in the summer, and getting engaged. Everyone was falling in love around her whilst she fell behind and was tormented into watching. 

On this typical, almost mundane Saturday,  the rain flooded down the crevices of the tall buildings hugging the wood and brick of the apartments and offices. Golden Canary taxis beeping as passengers let out screeches rushing to the nearest hut under the rain. Abby stood frozen in her floral shop. Figure in front of the window pane, as she let out cracked whistles through her dry lips, hands in her pockets. The jingling of her keys almost matched the sound of how hard the rain came down. Rocking on her toes, to and fro. Abby being alone for the evening took a number. It was vacant around the shop, the smell of roses, chrysanthemums, and daisies merged together itching at her senses — she could feel a faint sneeze drifting up her nostrils from the dust in the vents. 

She liked the glass windows. Largely panned giving everyone a wide view into the small business, including herself who had gotten nosy at strangers on the concrete. She admired the different people that she would see. The couple where the girlfriend would beg her partner to buy them a bouquet or a rose; The children dug in the crates begging their parental figure for dandelions to make wishes. It was all too pure for Abby, making her heartache at how the flowers brought unity to everyone around her. It was innocent, lovely and made her love her job even more. 

Abby itched at the nape of her neck, swinging her braid to the back as she bolted outside in a hurry to bring the cart of flowers inside as the wind picked up; business was dying down now that people seek shelter instead of enjoying nature. Abby stuck her left foot out kicking the wooden stopper in the door, door chimes ringing as her hands gripped the cart of the flower display. 

Abby underestimated the rain, her body was instantly covered in droplets her black t-shirt clinging to her chest almost becoming uniform with her skin. Providing a roughed, sloppy kiss to every curve and outline of her tender body. Abby let out grunts as she pushed the cart inside having to do it all alone until she heard footsteps. Not slow ones, but rather rapid, almost like the sound of the motorcycles against the pavement, bikers revving up at the stoplight. 

You were in a hurry, and it seemed as though the day couldn’t get any worse. You wanted to cry and bawl up into your bed, holding the sheets so tightly as sobs flowed through you as the serotonin in your body decreased. Tears weld up in your eyes as you run through the city streets, an oversized blazer above your head with some distance as you used it to shield you from the rain. Why me? – you would cry out, thick lashes sticking to the sunken skin of your eyelids as your face grew puffier in tears. That was all you wanted to do. But naturally, you couldn’t find a way to win. Not only was it raining, wet wind smacking your face, but you were going to miss your train because you weren’t moving fast enough. You were through for the evening. Briefly, your running slowed down in front of a flower shop catching your breath, heaving as your hands lowered letting the rain wash over you like a fresh cold shower.

You lost.

And to confirm it, a black Sudan drove by; hitting a pothole, splashing murky rainwater onto your work outfit leaving you drenched and soaked furthermore. Blinking rapidly, a loud gasp echoed behind you, followed by a falling ceramic flowerpot that collided with beige concrete, the sound echoing like an ice machine. Making your head snap to your left seeing a just-as-wet figure, cursing under her breath as her hands gripped the edges of the table.

She seemed just as stressed as you were. Considering the flower pot on the floor with dirt smeared and washing away into the city drains like mascara on a wet face made you wince. Picking up the still intact flowers surrounded by the broken glass.

She looked like she could use some help.

“Hey!” you shouted, but your voice was low compared to the rain that was drowning you out, the girl didn’t answer steadily pushing the cart in between the long rectangular door. “HEY!”

She stopped moving the cart, lifting her eyes up from the cart in front of her. Her lashes were long – her face free of any makeup, a light dusting of rose across each cheek, contoured and sculpted edges, giving her a bronzy look under the summer solstice. It didn’t help that the rain was making it hard to see turning your vision into endless mush. The flowers behind her almost popped out and came to life…full bloom and kissable touch. You were stuck, still breathing…but heavily of course; you zoned out somewhere lost in her ocean of eyes, before snapping out of it at the sound of someone’s car alarm going off on the street.

her tattoos and soft face almost mocking each other at her inquires as a floral shop owner.

Everything got louder almost amplified. Obnoxious noises match your heartbeat. Her lips were parted as she eyed your wet figure up and down. 

“Let me help!” the both of you shouted at the same time. Followed by sweet sweet laughter amidst the rain. 

“No, seriously let me help” This time the woman in front of you was whispering, almost merging voices with the pellets of rain hitting the metal of the table. Blonde hair sticking to the sides of her face.

There was a silent agreement. You put the jacket you were using as an umbrella back on your arms, followed by locking your purse over your shoulder as you reached to the other end across from Abby lifting up the table with the count of 3. The two of you carry the table back inside, this time no spills.

You weren’t sure why but she was like a breath of fresh air, beautiful and in her own world almost as if the heavens planted her there for you to see. It was purely an accident that you stopped in front of the flower shop. Hell, you could have chosen Mimi’s Bakery or that’s vintage! Threading and clothing warehouse but your body chose  Lovestrung Florals. How glad you were that you did, new feelings brewing inside of you as your brain struggled to find the right words. 

The broken flower pot remained, in unity with the concrete hugging each and every crevice of the holes in between the rocks. Going unnoticed by both you and Abby as the two of you worked together, not even catching the single cream-colored rose that was deteriorating under the harsh application of rain. Drowning in water as the petals peeled off and ran down the sidewalk into the city drains, tainted with dark mud; changing like the seasons. The sun begun to peak out embedded through the grey clouds casting a bright glow haze on the busy Soho streets.

“Now let's get you inside, don’t need your beautiful self getting sick now do we?”

[wishcamper]

Nessian Week Day 3 - Symphony

For the third day of @nessianweek, here's a sweet lil snip of post-canon domestic Nessian.

Photo is of Old Town in Dubrovnik, Croatia, which is how I always picture Velaris.

Read here or on ao3!

Five More Minutes

Post-ACOSF slice of life of Nesta enjoying the sounds of the morning (and avoiding getting up).

’T is you that are the music, not your song. The song is but a door which, opening wide, Lets forth the pent-up melody inside, Your spirit’s harmony, which clear and strong Sing but of you. 

- 'Listening', Amy Lowell

—-

Dawn breaks, cresting the mountains, light spilling over the world. Velaris comes alive in fits and starts, and the harbor bell clangs as sailors bring in their first catch of the day, gulls crying out their envy overhead. The world is waking around her, but Nesta keeps her eyes closed beneath the heavy coverlet. Her stubbornness refuses to entertain the day, not yet.

Cassian seems to agree, though he’ll never admit it. A groan rumbles somewhere behind her, incoherent mumblings of her mate rousing, emerging from the depths of sleep into the day. Nesta hears the slide of sheets, a rustle of wings, then a muffling as he drapes one over her, cocooned for a moment while he presses closer and noises of lazy contentment fill her ear.

He’s warm, always, a furnace in their bed. They both remember the cold too well to sleep any way but right up next to each other, especially on mornings like this, when the air inside carries the chill of late autumn.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, his deep voice thick and fuzzy.

She pretends to be asleep, partly because she wishes she still was, but mostly to draw this out as long as possible. To hear the sweet murmurings Cassian pours over her when he believes her most unguarded, when he tries to reach her dreams.

A broad hand strokes up her side, coming to rest across her stomach. Careful, so as not to wake her. “Fuck, you smell good. And you're so soft. I’m so lucky to wake up next to you.”

Words she’d roll her eyes at in the day, especially if someone else were to overhear, pretty declarations easy enough to toss like flower petals. But in seclusion they manage to travel the distance between his lips and her ear without losing their potency, and Nesta feels them sink in, loosening a muscle in her shoulder.

“Beautiful Nes. You’re so precious to me.”

Cassian holds her for a bit longer, and she listens to the steady tide of his breath so slow and even. It’s punctuated every now and then by his sighs of pleasure, evidence of the way she softens him too in this quiet, liminal place that’s only theirs. 

After a time he rises, the bed’s creaking followed by a thump of the House producing his training leathers. Water runs in the bathing chamber, a splash in the sink, then the scrape of a comb through unruly hair before the endless series of clasps and buckles. Nesta can picture in her mind where each one sits, the high ping of the clip at his shoulder, hard snaps at his sides where the back panel secures to accommodate his wings. Cassian hums under his breath as he dresses, some tune she can’t place, though it might’ve drifted from her symphonia sometime the evening before. The well-worn sofa groans when he sits to don his boots.

The sequence is the same most mornings, but memories still haunt Nesta in these moments of ease, phantoms skulking about in her periphery. It’s hard to forget how she used to wake all at once, like an arrow shot through the morning air, to the cacophony of her mother screeching at a house servant. Or else the horrible quiet that followed, the dense void of her absence.

She woke mustily in the summer in the hovel they called home, the drone of insects and the rank, still air, Elain’s trowel piercing the earth under the windowsill. In colder months there was nothing but the roar of the wind, whistles through the chinks, the grind of her own teeth from trying not to shiver.

All of it was better than waking in the dead of night to Feyre’s pleading, heavy thuds of the clubs and bone crunching, their father’s wretched silence. Then years later the door splintering, the growling of a great beast.

At the funeral for her old life she woke to the rip of curtains around her bed, shouts and taunts as they yanked her drowsy and disoriented from the sheets, from the manor, from her body. Then the fatal press of water in her ears, poison boiling, her own choked snarls of rage.

After that came a long series of mornings that were not actually mornings at all, afternoons when she rose sticky with sweat, a pounding headache like war drums rattling her skull. Days she prayed to stop hearing the snap of her father’s neck in the fire, the ghosts of the past wailing for retribution. Nights when solace lived only in the shuffle of cards, the glug of wine into a waiting glass. The moans of another faceless male.

Yet even in the darkness there was music. Ever since she was a girl, a tune plays at the edge of her dreams that she can’t quite catch, can never quite remember. Always the same, always soft and close, as if someone lays beside her, filling her with safety and peace.

Now the world is quiet, within and without. Nesta barely notices she’s drifted back into sleep, so she’s surprised when heavy footsteps approach her side of the bed. There’s a clink when the House places a cup and saucer on the bedside table, tea she knows will stay perfectly warm until she’s ready to rise herself. Her legs shift, whispering against the sheets as they search for the heated spot Cassian always leaves behind.

“You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, brushing stray hairs from her forehead. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

She hears the smile in his voice, the tenderness he saves just for her. The kisses he drops on her face are like the patter of spring rain, his rumbling laugh the answering thunder when she presses her cheek against his lips so she can really feel them.

Her fae ears pick up conversation in the hallway, Azriel and Gwyn either coming or going, though it’s impossible to tell which. Cassian’s leathers creak as he sits up but she feels him linger there, the rasp of a calloused hand stroking up and down her back. 

“I hope you have a good day. I love you.”

He traces the point of her ear, tugging lightly at the lobe before he stands and his footsteps retreat. Then the snick of the door, their friends greeting him on the landing, Emerie’s voice now joining the chorus.

She doesn’t ever want to stop listening to this, Nesta thinks, these sounds of home. Dawn chases away the phantoms and no one screeches or pleads or drowns in silence. All is in harmony, now the music of her life feels worth waking to hear.

In the moment before her eyes open, a tune floats by from the edge of her dreams, the same one Cassian was humming. It sounds as if someone is beside her in bed, soft, and close.

[deathbxnny]

greetings, scar, jiyan and aalto saving a teen!reader from a TD attack/outburst?

I really enjoyed writing this request, Anon, so thank you so much for sending this in, and I hope you'll enjoy this!!<33

Content: Angst, mentions of near death for reader, teen reader, hurt/comfort, platonic relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》AALTO

Aalto looked away from you for 2 seconds, only to find himself in the middle of a TD attack and unabke to see you anywhere. He panics, yelling your name over the crowd of monsters that blocked his view of you whilst trying to keep an eye on Encore, who looked equally as worried. "Damnit... Encore! Keep them back long enough for me to find them, okay?" Aalto yelled out as he pushed his way through the wave of enemies determinedly.

Different from the pink haired girl, he knew that you had a much harder time fighting back since your skill set wasn't good enough for that yet. So he had to find you and fast. "Kid?! Where are you?" He shouted over the blaring sound of gunshots, Encore's giggles somewhere in the distance, and the screeching of TDs around him.

His heart dropped when he finally saw you pressed up against a tree and cornered by several monsters. Knowing that he had to save you, he immediately sprung into action and took care of the threats before they could lay a hand on you. Encore joined you two soon after everything settled down, having somehow taken down most of them on her own.

The older man was meanwhile left panting and hunched over, clearly exhausted mentally and physically by the ordeal whilst you casually stood next to your pink haired companion. "Ah... I'm getting too old for this..." Aalto muttered weakly before looking up at the both of you with a deadpan.

"You know... maybe those parents with child leashes weren't that weird after all..."

》JIYAN

Jiyan was calmly resting and drinking tea on the military base when a soldier suddenly came running in completely disheveled. He didn't waste any time telling him about how the patrol division you were a part of was attacked and needed backup immideatly. Knowing that you were still too young to handle such a massive wave of enemies, the general immideatly stood up and made his way to you.

He wasted no time to cut down through the masses with his own troops and weapon until he found you surrounded by huge TDs. You were clearly exhausted and definitely at the brink of collapsing, something that worried the man even more as he approached you quickly.

"Don't worry, (Y/N)! I'm right here." He reassured you gently, wanting to lessen your fears as he made quick work of the monsters. His troops came in afterward to take control of the situation better and to tend to the injured on his command, whilst he checked up on your shaken form. He knew that it was wrong to send someone as young as you out here, but he couldn't have expected that a short and small patrol could cause such chaos.

"Sorry, this won't happen again, I promise... are you injured? Let's go back to the base." The man hummed as he called in for a retreat and took you back for a checkup.

He was just glad that he was there on time.

》SCAR

Scar was having the time of his life, as he watched a massive wave of TD monsters attack and destroy troops of the enemy faction below the ledge he was standing on. A bright grin rested on his lips, chest swollen with arrogant pride whilst he crossed his arms tightly. "Haha! Look at them struggling down there! How pathetic, am I right, brat?" When he didn't hear you agreeing like you usually do, he turned his head towards you with a raised brow. "... brat? Where the-" Realising that you had disappeared, he scanned the area quickly to look for you, only to see you fighting back against TDs below him as well.

"Huh??? Oh, you've got to be kidding me-" Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he jumped down immideatly to snatch you up by your collar after he got rid of the monsters with a simple attack. "How did you even get down here? Whatever, just don't do that again, got it? Man, and I was just having fun too..." The man huffed, yet froze at your nervous and ashamed expression.

You were the youngest of the Fractsidus members and often hung around Scar during missions for guidance. So disappointing him was the last thing you wanted to do, something he knew ofcourse. Sighing deeply, he cleared his throat. "Not that it matters. Let's get out of here before our dearest enemies call in for backup." He hummed before just casually throwing you over his shoulder and walking off.

It seemed like he had a soft spot for you after all, despite your initial doubts.

[scoops-stevie-archive]

this was written for @thefreakandthehair's spicy six spring fanworks challenge, for the prompt, "come lie down with me, i'll read it to you"! thank you so much for letting me participate, lex!

April showers bring May flowers, but March comes in like a lion. Winds up to fifty miles an hour with rain and thunderstorms following close behind. Most people would hunker down with preparations to ride it out for however long the weatherman on TV decides, but most people haven't fought an inter-dimensional war for four years in a row and don't equate the rain pelting down on the roof to the sound of beating bat wings, or the violent winds to their devilish screeching. They get pushed around in a gust and don't think about being pinned down and feasted upon by razor sharp teeth.

Most people aren't Steve Harrington.

Unsurprisingly, Family Video stays open during one of these storms. Also unsurprisingly, they haven’t had a single customer since they opened that morning. Steve watches from behind the counter as it rains sideways across the parking lot. The trees are bending in ways that make him nervous and he's imagined a branch snapping off and going through his car one too many times. He taps an erratic rhythm on the counter, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes locked forward.

"If it gets any worse, we're closing early," Robin says from somewhere in the rows of tapes, probably sprawled across the floor. "It's supposed to go on until tomorrow afternoon, and I'm not risking being stranded here."

Steve would argue that it’s already worse, but a particularly harsh gale that sounds like a moaning monster from a D&D session makes his blood freeze in his veins. He nods, his jaw clenched. “Agreed.”

Worse comes when the power starts flickering. It was just once and for barely a second but it was enough for Steve and Robin to shut all the computers and lights off and make a beeline for the breakroom. He's already made his check-in calls with the Party; they're all safe and sound at home with promises to not step foot outside until this all passes.

“Be careful, alright?” Robin says when Steve drops her off at home. The wind is whipping her hair around her face and she’s struggling to hold the door open with the force of it. He waits until she’s safely inside before he pulls away.

There was a lull in the rain during the drive, but now it’s back with a vengeance. His wipers are barely doing anything and he can’t even see five feet in front of him. He pulls over somewhere on the side of the road to wait until it hopefully dies down. There’s thunder in the distance now, and all Steve can think of is Kate fucking Bush and Max lying comatose in a hospital bed. He watches the rain cascade in waves down the windshield and suddenly he’s back on the roof of Starcourt, his Members Only jacket doing absolutely fuck-all to keep him dry in the downpour.

Steve grips the steering wheel and can barely hear the next clap of thunder over the gust of wind that's shaking the car, or the blood rushing through his ears, his head filled with screams – his, Robin's, Dustin's, Eddie's–

Eddie.

Blind panic blooms in his chest and it takes a few tries to get the car started because of how bad his hands are shaking. Finally, the ignition turns and he's speeding off. He doesn't bother to follow traffic laws.

Gotta get to Eddie. Gotta get there before the bats do, he and Dustin can't hold them off on their own, shouldn't have left them behind–

Steve doesn’t remember haphazardly parking the car next to Eddie's van, or throwing the front door open with a strangled shout of his boyfriend’s name.

"Eddie!"

There's a thump coming from the back bedroom and Eddie comes tripping over his own feet in his rush to get to him. Steve wants to cry at the sight of him, but instead his breath gets caught in his throat with another wave of panic as his vision blurs and all he can see is Eddie’s bloodied smile as Nancy desperately tries to stop the bleeding from his torso.

Eddie takes a cautious step forward. "Baby?" His hands are lifted in front of him as if Steve is a frightened animal.

"You - you're-" Steve tries to get out but making words feels like gargling pebbles, deep down in his throat. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, shaking along with the rest of him.

"Where are you right now, Stevie?" Eddie asks gently. He doesn't touch him but he's close enough now that he could.

Steve shakes his head. "I-I don't -" He swallows. "The bats - had to come back, couldn't leave you and Dustin-"

"Can I touch you?"

Steve nods.

Eddie doesn’t pull him in immediately. He curls a steady hand around the knob of his shoulder, his thumb rubbing his collarbone in soothing circles. His other hand goes to his right elbow and then he slowly drags him to his chest in a bear hug. Steve goes limp like a rag doll and lets Eddie hold him tight.

"There we go," Eddie whispers into his hair, arms wrapped around his shoulders and waist. Steve pants raggedly against his neck. “Shh, I gotcha, sweetheart.” Fingers slide up the back of his neck and thread through his hair, gently tugging and scratching at his scalp in a way that makes Steve shiver and press closer. His own hands come up and grab fistfuls of the back of Eddie’s shirt. Eddie kisses his temple. “You don’t have to tell me what made you freak out if you don’t want to, but I don’t think you want the neighbors seein’ you like this.”

Slowly, without pulling away, Eddie kicks the front door shut and walks them back to his room where he undresses Steve slowly and methodically, not like he usually would when he’s trying to get his boy out of his clothes, and replaces them with a worn t-shirt and sweatpants. Steve buries his nose in the collar of the shirt and breathes in the scene of home. There’s a tiredness always present after a panic attack that leaves him weary and aching all the way down to his bones. He kicks his jeans to the side and sends a paperback with them. It isn’t one he’s seen Eddie read before; the dragon on the green cover and the yellow letters are enough to draw Steve’s attention and he flips through the pages after reading the summary on the back.

“Come lie down with me,” Eddie says with a gentle hand on Steve’s hip, “I’ll read it to you.”

Eddie shuffles him toward the bed and Steve all but falls onto the mattress, burying his face in the pillow on Eddie’s side of the bed (because he’s slept here enough times that they have respective sides, now) and inhaling the intoxicating smell that’s pure Eddie – cigarette smoke and the strawberry shampoo he uses. He’s maneuvered until he’s tucked into his boyfriend’s side.

The storm is all but forgotten outside. He can’t hear the harsh winds or the rain pounding on the trailer’s tin roof. Eddie’s bedroom is a bubble of safety and love and warmth. Steve has no nightmares in this place. Here, all he knows is adept fingers running through his hair and the way he slowly starts to drift off at the soothing sound of Eddie’s voice rumbling in his ear as he reads to him, picking up where he left off.

“The Librarian slept on, lulled by the whispering of the rain…”

[inkscriptions]

Hi there! I don’t know why, but this gifset/scene ALWAYS reminds me of a first look for arranged marriage Paul x reader. I wanted to reach out and make a request for your take on something like that!!!

https://www.tumblr.com/inkscriptions/761991097328271360/timoth%C3%A9e-chalamet-as-paul-atreides-dune-part-one

ᯓᡣ𐭩 remember, beloved paul atreides x fem!reader

“That’s rude,” he says, spinning his knife around his wrist once, then twice, before going for a strike.

“Perhaps,” you say, your knife clashing against his, a screeching sound to be heard as the blades of your knives scrape against each other. “But all’s fair in love and war, isn’t it?”

word count : 4.6K

warnings : strong language, angst, my take on the arranged marriage trope, fighting / sparring, an allusion to smut if you reaaally squint

Drawing in deep breaths through his nose, letting the oxygen that hangs in the air fill his lungs to the very brim, before releasing it back out through his mouth, Paul stands still, almost as if having frozen in time.

His eyes fixed on the far horizon, the picture before him clouded by a thick mist -- glimpses of moisture very much visible to the eye, sliding down the outside surface of his bedroom window in thin, river-like streams. The sunlight nothing more than a faint gleam over it all, for the heavy veil of clouds that rests upon Caladan is nearly impossible for light to push through. Still, just every now and then, Paul can see how the crests of the waves in the ocean glisten like tiny little jewels, when being kissed by the light.

Apart from the dress jacket that still lays untouched on top of his bed, Paul is fully dressed in his ceremonials. His body wrapped in dark green fabrics -- in pieces, that have been carefully tailored to fit him just right; to sit around his shoulders nice and snug, to stretch over the planes of his chest like the forest stretches over Caladan.

There’s a sense of unease holding him in its embrace, making it feel as if the collar of his shirt would slowly, minute by minute, sit tighter and tighter around his neck -- making his fingers itch to reach up there and pull it looser.

A sound of footsteps approaching from somewhere not too far in the distance pulls Paul from his thoughts, right before the voice of Duncan Idaho echoes through his bedroom -- an ever so low rumble, at best, “You doing alright there, my boy?”

“Duncan,” Paul says, tearing his eyes away from the scene that stands proud behind his bedroom window, and turning to face the man addressing him.

He, too, is dressed nice and formal. A military dress uniform resting upon the broad of his frame, the dark fabric nearly black in this light. The Atreides house crest embroidered to his dress jacket, right to the spot where his heart lays underneath. He wears it with pride -- of course he does, for he is known for his loyalty to the Atreides family.

“What’s going on?” Duncan asks, coming to stand before Paul. His features are stern -- a few, deep wrinkles sitting in between his eyebrows, for something close to worry swims in the green of his eyes as he stares down at the young man who he thinks of as his little brother.

“Nothing,” Paul says, a hint of something -- nothing but a joyless smile, really -- washing over his lips. “I’m alright.”

Duncan, knowing that what Paul is telling him isn’t the full truth, but also knowing better than to ask him about it, only hums in an answer. “It’s a big day today,” he then goes on to say, putting his hand on Paul’s shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze -- a small gesture that on any other given day, Paul would, indeed, find comforting.

“Yeah,” Paul says, nodding once. “I guess it is.”

Duncan is right -- it is a big day today.

Today is the day that Paul Atreides, son of Duke Leto Atreides, takes your hand in marriage.

Though Paul has grown up knowing that one day, sooner or later, he will marry not for love, but for something else entirely -- for an union of sorts to be formed in between two Great Houses --, he would be lying if he said that he still, despite his upbringing, didn’t find the idea unsettling. And really, there is no blaming him -- after all, he is about to marry a woman with whom he has spoken alone only once before.

It is late at night, far in the quiet hours beyond dusk, for the training hall of Castle Atreides stands bare of life. There is not a singular soul in sight, nor a singular, faintest trace of a sound of life to be heard. You don’t know it yet, but only in a few, short weeks’ time, you will learn that it is quite the rare occurrence, indeed, to find the training quarters like this; enveloped in such a state of peace and quiet.

A large window, stretching all the way from the ground to the ceiling. Beautiful fixtures set before it, filtering out most of the light that wishes to stream into the room. The moonlight, bright, white and beautiful, only a faint glow when it reaches you -- caresses your forehead and kisses your cheek, all the while tracing your footsteps in the form of a long shadow.

Your feet, all cold and clammy for they are bare, carry you across the room with footsteps so quiet that you barely hear them yourself.

Coming to stand beside a large, oak table, on top of which a collection of all kinds of different swords, knives and shields rests untouched, you think about it -- think about how one day, the stone walls of this castle will be all you know. So foreign and unfamiliar now, yet still something that one day, you will learn to call home.

A part of you wonders if this place, though your home, will ever truly feel like one.

You give your head a slight shake, in hopes that the movement would ease your mind -- that it would strip away the weight that is resting so heavy on your shoulders, that it would soothe the pain that throbs so very persistent on your temples, that it would ease the pressure on your chest that presses so firm against every single breath you take --, only to witness the attempt falling short.

A groan -- a low sound that echoes nothing but frustration -- rumbles somewhere deep inside your throat. And really, though you would never admit it out loud, it feels liberating -- being able to voice your thoughts, even if it is only through something as little as a mere groan.

Being raised better than to act out, up until this very moment, you have not once voiced your frustrations. Not when your parents informed you about the forthcoming union between you and your now betrothed, Paul Atreides, for the very first time, nor when they encouraged you to pack your bags shortly after, for as by their wishes, you were to leave to pay a short, three-day-long visit to Caladan the following day. Not even earlier tonight had you said a word, while sitting at the dinner table together with the Atreides family, discussing matters regarding the quickly approaching wedding that, by the sound of it, will not be a wedding that looks anything like you.

Knitting your eyebrows together, you catch a hold of the knife that lays closest to you, and make your way to a training dummy.

Fingers wrapped around the leather handle of the knife nice and tight, you strike the dummy once, then twice -- the swooshing sound the blade makes as it cuts through the air soon being the only thing you’re able to hear, and for that you are the utmost grateful, for as of now it seems that fighting is the only thing that manages to silence the screams of turmoil that have been haunting your head for days now.

“I didn’t think I’d find you here,” a voice echoes through the training hall. It is a familiar voice, you realize -- or, rather, a voice that you have recently gotten familiar with.

Upon turning around, you are met with the image of your now betrothed, Paul Atreides, standing in the doorframe. Leaning his weight against the casing, wearing nothing but a white tunic and a pair of simple, black trousers, with the raven of his hair a lot messier than you’ve ever seen it before, he almost looks as if he would have rolled out of bed just moments before.

“My lord,” you pay formalities to him with a small nod of your head.

He mirrors you, nodding once, “My lady.”

And for a little while, the two of you sit in silence. Only holding each other’s gazes from the opposite sides of the room, both, unbeknownst to the other, thinking about the exact same thing -- thinking about how this might just be the very first time you are seeing each other, it being just the two of you.

What an odd world it is, indeed, that you live in.

He is the first one to break the silence. “I didn’t take you for a fighter.”

You hum, a hint of a smile washing over your lips. “I’m afraid there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, my lord.”

“Paul,” he says, the tone of his voice calm and kind -- soothing, almost.

A small frown of your eyebrows, for you are not quite certain you heard him right. “I beg your pardon?”

“Paul,” he repeats. “You can call me Paul.”

You press your lips together, a tight, thin-lipped smile raising to adorn them. Though polite, it is still a smile that doesn’t suit anyone -- a smile that couldn’t be anything but the very product of one’s attempt to keep the turmoil of their mind from showing through their features.

“Paul,” you then say, his name nothing but an echo of uncertainty as it falls from your lips. Those four letters unfamiliar in your mouth -- a kind of taste that you are not certain whether you like or not.

He offers you a smile. It’s a nice smile, kind and warm. His parents must have done a better job at raising him than yours did raising you, you figure, for the smile that is now gracing his lips doesn’t look the least bit forced -- something that can’t be said of the one that you wear.

Pushing his weight off the doorframe, back onto his legs, Paul enters the room. Long strides carry him through the vast emptiness of the training hall, before bringing him to a stop beside the great oak table, on top of which rests now an incomplete collection of various different kinds of weapons -- for one of the knives still sits tightly secured inside your fist.

“I don’t mean to intrude,” you start, fingers twiddling with the leather handle of your knife. It has got to be a rather old knife you chose to practice with, you think, for the leather covering of its handle is so very worn-looking -- traces of leather sticking out from here and there. “But if I may ask, what’s got you coming down here this late at night?”

Paul lifts his gaze up to meet yours, something swirling in the bluish-hazel of his eyes -- something that says, The same thing that brought you here, I believe. And yet, though his eyes are saying something very different, he goes on to say, “I couldn’t sleep.”

A part of you wants to ask him about it -- ask him how he feels about all of this --, while another part of you wants to shelve the topic for the rest of your days. Seal it away in a lockbox and drop it to the bottom of the ocean -- a conversation to be never thought of again.

Another silence falls upon the two of you. It isn’t an uncomfortable one, but quite the opposite, actually. Something warm lingering in the air, as you share the room with the only person in the entire known universe who is going through the exact same thing you are.

“So, Paul,” you then say, his name still nothing but an odd, unfamiliar taste on your tongue. “You wanna go a few rounds?”

Paul raises his eyebrows, a somewhat questioning look etching onto his features. “So you are a fighter, then?”

You chuckle, a hint of an amused smile washing over your lips right before you go on to tell him, “I can hold my own.”

Paul is looking at you now -- like, really looking at you. He hasn’t seen you like this before.

Dressed in all-black clothing, a loose tunic and a matching pair of trousers resting upon your frame. A couple beads of sweat glistening on your forehead, and a few more running down your temples in thin, current-like streams. A small pendant only faintly visible from this far, for it sits partially under the collar of your shirt -- right there, where your collarbones are only inches from meeting. Paul doesn’t know it yet, but that very pendant, has nothing but your family’s house crest engraved to it, and thus makes it the only piece of clothing you never strip.

Truth be told, Paul doesn’t think that he has ever seen any woman, of any Great House, like this.

Paul hums, as if deep in thought, and dons his shield. Flashes of blue light lingering around his figure for a mere moment, before vanishing to thin air. His eyes never leaving yours, for he finds the challenge that twinkles just right there, in the corner of your eye, somewhat captivating.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, smiling now, as he rounds the table with a knife in his hand.

A laugh -- a real, serene one -- bubbles somewhere deep inside your chest. You don’t think about it now, but if you were to, you would realize that this is the first laugh anyone has heard coming from you in days.

“You’re funny, Paul Atreides,” you say, smiling now too. Mirroring him, you come to stand in the middle of the training mat, donning your shield -- something blue flashing before your eyes, a low buzzing sound to be heard in your ears, as a protective energy shield forms around you.

It is just then, as Paul takes a fighting stance, his gaze still holding onto yours, that he thinks it -- for things to be as they are, this isn’t a bad start.

You lunge towards him, your blade crashing against his. Knives firmly pressed against one another, the two of you stay still for a mere moment, only squinting your eyes, as if contemplating each other’s next moves.

It’s refreshing, you think -- fighting someone you have never fought before.

And soon, the state of peace and quiet that once rested upon the training hall of Castle Atreides, is long gone. Replaced with the sounds of blades clashing together time after time again -- each strike harder, more furious than the last.

You are quickly informed of the skill of you betrothed. He is quick in his movements -- smart, too. It’s almost as if every single move of his, even the smallest twitch of one of his muscles, was carefully measured out before coming to life right before your eyes. God, he makes it all look so easy, too -- he must have spent hundreds, if not thousands of hours within the four walls of this very room, you figure, for suddenly you find it difficult to hold your own.

It is only a matter of minutes before the both of you are out of breath.

Heart beating fast -- thumping against your ribs with such force that it damn near makes you dizzy. The muscles that sit on top of your chest aching as they’re being stretched to their very breaking point with every breath you draw in, lungs screaming for more air -- for more oxygen. Sweat running down the back of your neck, your sides -- hell, even your hands are sweaty now, for holding your knife feels now harder than it did before.

You put up a good fight, Paul thinks, receiving a kick straight to his ribs. Everything your muscles have to give, straight through the sole of your foot -- air being pushed out of his lungs, leaving him breathless for a good few seconds.

“That’s rude,” he says, spinning his knife around his wrist once, then twice, before going for a strike.

“Perhaps,” you say, your knife clashing against his, a screeching sound to be heard as the blades of your knives scrape against each other. “But all’s fair in love and war, isn’t it?”

“Mhm,” Paul simply hums in an answer, something close to intrigue etching across the entirety of his irises.

Not once did you think that you would actually have it in you to best Paul Atreides in a fight, but losing to him so quickly wasn’t what you were expecting either. He is swift in his movements -- using his blade to push your upper body away from him, all the while his leg moves to knock yours from underneath you.

And so he has got you.

His forearm pressed firm against your chest, holding you in place -- unwavering despite the very best of your efforts trying to wriggle yourself free. Every inch of your back soon forced flat against the mat, for it seems the more you struggle, the better of a hold he gets of you. Your shield now flashing red under his blade, as there is nothing more than the thin fabric of your tunic left in between the tip of his knife and your skin.

Really, you are no match for Paul. A panting mess underneath him. Beads of sweat glistening on every part of the little of your skin that is exposed -- a few of them hanging onto your lashes, even. The tiny muscles in your jaw aching now, too, from gritting your teeth together so damn hard -- just another reminder of just how good of a fight this man put up.

“I have you,” he then says. His tone is lower now, more husky, for he too is out of breath.

You don’t say anything, but only let your grip loosen over the handle of your knife. Paul drops his knife, too -- and just like that, the fight is over.

Backing away, Paul proceeds to offer you his hand. His fingers all hot and sweaty, his grip tight around the palm of your hand, as he pulls you up to sit beside him. The training hall falling silent again -- the only sounds soon to be heard echoing through the room being the ones caused by both, your and his heavy breathing.

It is here, that you get a good look at him -- get a good look at the sharp of his features, at the high of his cheekbone, at the crisp of his jawline. It’s almost as if he was carefully carved out of clay, you think, by someone whose touch is nothing less than ever so precise.

He looks beautiful. He really does. Though, given the circumstances, you are not entirely sure if you should be thinking that.

“You okay?” you then ask him, something warm and kind laced to the tone of your voice -- something that wasn’t there before.

Paul chuckles, not even a fraction of joy to be seen on his features. “I think I should be the one asking you that,” he says. “I mean -- I’m home, at least.”

Your chest tightens at the reminder. It is an odd thought; having the Castle Atreides as your home, instead of the one you grew up in -- instead of the place that holds all the memories dearest to your heart.

Not really knowing what to say, you stay silent. Teeth sinking into the flesh of your bottom lip, working on chewing it raw -- the iron-like tang there is to the taste of blood soon prickling the tip of your tongue.

Paul looks at you, his eyes searching your features. Something different in the way his eyes look now -- not just two, infinite pools stained with all different shades of blue and hazel, but something more; something that almost looks as if he was feeling sorry for you. Maybe in some ways he is.

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” Paul then goes on to say. What he thinks, but doesn’t say, is, And when you come back, it is for us to get married. The thought still doesn’t sit quite right with him.

“Yeah,” you say, holding on to your breath for a while, before adding, “It’s weird, you know -- all of this.”

Paul nods, listening.

“I don’t like it,” you then say.

He hums, a subtle smile etching onto the pink of his lips. It is nice talking to you about this -- like this. “Me neither.”

The two of you sit in silence for a while. Only eyeing each other carefully, something serene lingering in the air -- a new found understanding, perhaps. Two people -- nothing but strangers to each other, really -- realizing that all this time, they have understood each other better than anyone else ever could.

“I hope we can make it work,” he says quietly. He doesn’t mean his words in the sense that he hopes the two of you will fall in love, for he knows it is unlikely for one to fall in love with someone they’re being forced upon, but in the sense that he hopes you can live alongside each other -- to continue to understand each other.

And it is just then, that you think it, too -- for things to be as they are, this isn’t a bad start.

“Maybe we’ll find a way,” you muse, a soft smile on your lips.

Paul hums, smiling now too. “Maybe we’ll find a way.”

Duncan sighs -- a heavy, rustling thing --, for the older brother that lives inside of him hates seeing Paul like this; lost somewhere deep in thought, far away from where he needs to be -- far away from where one is able to make things happen.

“She seems alright,” he then goes on to say, something like reassurance woven into the tone of his voice -- a gentle reminder of how he will always be standing there, right beside Paul, come what may.

“Yeah,” Paul says quietly. “She is alright.”

He means it, he really does -- you are alright. Though, he is fairly certain that given the kind of upbringing you have had, it would’ve been practically impossible for you to have turned out anything less, than alright.

Long, heavy strides carry Duncan across the room. Coming to stand by the edge of Paul’s bed, he bends down at the waist just enough so that he is able to reach out and catch a hold of the dress jacket of Paul’s ceremonials that still rests there, upon his unmade bed, untouched. The fabric freshly cleaned and pressed, almost coarse-feeling in between his fingers.

“C’mon, my boy,” he says, holding the jacket open for Paul. “It’s go time.”

A sigh falling from Paul’s lips, too, right before he goes on to slip into the dress jacket that Duncan is holding up for him.

And really, it is quite the nice moment the two of them share here -- a big brother of sorts, helping his little one get dressed before what is arguably going to be one of the biggest moments of his life; fastening the buttons of his jacket for him and smoothing the fabric over with the palms of his hands, and to finish it all off, hitting Paul to the plane of his chest in a playful manner -- a small gesture, yes, yet still something that perfectly portrays their relationship.

It is not too long after, that Paul finds himself standing outside the Castle Atreides. On the edge of a cliff, looking over Caladan as it stands there, proud before him, in all its glory -- a picture ever so green and gloomy, stretching as far as the eye can see. The ocean opening vast behind him, furious in its movements, for the wind has gotten a hold of the waves -- has gotten them crashing against the shore time after time again, each time seemingly more aggressive than the last.

It is a subtle, yet elegant setting -- a true testament to the fact that a marriage among two Great Houses serves more as a political proposition, than anything else. The castle grounds decorated with shades of dark green and blue, reflecting the beauty of the oceanic, forest-filled planet that is Caladan, the home of House Atreides. Flags with the family’s crest embroidered to them dancing to a rhythm set by the wind -- a reminder to everyone present, upon whose ground they are standing.

Paul’s heart is beating hard against his ribs, moving to a cadence so relentless that it has got even the very tips of his fingers feeling warm, despite it being quite cold out here this time of year. His chest feels tight, too -- though, truth be told, his chest has felt tight for quite some time now.

“I’m proud of you, son,” Duke Leto Atreides says from behind him, his tone low and firm.

Turning his head to the side, just ever so slightly, Paul glances at his father over his shoulder. His features are stern, not even a fraction of emotion showing through them. Duke Leto Atreides really is that kind of a man -- a man, who is difficult to get a read on at all times, no matter how close you are with him.

Paul simply nods in an answer, not saying anything.

Upon turning his head back to face forwards, Paul is met with the image of you walking towards him. Still quite far in the distance, for he can’t see much else than your figure just yet. Body wrapped in white, silky material that reaches all the way down to your ankles -- kissing the grass with each and every one of your steps. What is perhaps the longest veil ever seen following you like a white shadow, bright against the gloom that sits upon Caladan.

Your father is there, too. Walking by your side, glad to have been able to show up for you on a day such as this. His arm extended out for you to have something to hold on to -- your fingers curled around his forearm tight as ever, for the fabric of his dress jacket is now all wrinkled from your touch.

Breathing in, for that is all Paul knows to do, he can almost feel the sea salt prickling his nose. The scent of the ocean thick and rich in the air -- moisture clinging to oxygen, the feel of air soothing as it enters his lungs.

And soon, it is just you and Paul. Standing opposite each other on the edge of a cliff, about to jump head first into something that neither of you have ever experienced before. A few, short feet’ distance between your bodies, for Paul can see you clear now -- can see the way your veil flows around your face with movements much like those of the ocean on a quiet day. Can see the way the fabric of your dress slopes off your shoulders, leaving them bare. Can see the way your chest rises high only to fall down low soon after, as you let air flow in and out of your lungs -- the pendant that still sits there, in the spot right between your collarbones, glistening under the faint sunlight.

For suddenly there is a lump in his throat. One that doesn’t move, not even an inch, when he swallows, but rather feels as if it would only press against his airways harder, keeping him from getting a nice, deep breath in.

You look beautiful. You are beautiful.

A fanfare erupts from somewhere not too far in the distance, signaling that the ceremony has begun. Everything falling quiet right after -- a kind of silence that carries a sense of calm and peace in its presence settling upon the grounds of Castle Atreides, like an invisible, weighted blanket.

And it is just then, when you raise your eyes up to meet his, that Paul sees it, clear as day -- something in the ever-expanding infinity of your eyes that says, We’ll find a way.

author's note : thank you for this request, sweet anon! this was SO much fun to write! kinda want to do a part two now where they get busy for the first time :’) please let me know all your thoughts! kisses!

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Hello! How are you? <3

I have no idea if you are taking requests, so you can ignore me if it's the case!

Weeeell, how about a Hiccup's POV overthinking about he and reader in a date after Dagur's insinuation in "sorry, but I think I lost your plot"

Have a nice day 💕!

 Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 11

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,050

Dagur says something that gets his stomach running. After, Hiccup tries to find out what you like.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Dragons: Defenders of Berk, The Night and The Fury, Hiccup's POV, questions, Valentine’s Day

<Previous - Next>

“You… You’re on a date!” Dagur exclaimed with both equal amounts of congratulations and malice.

A date? Hiccup nearly choked on his spit, cheeks heating intensely, escape plans and not-so-silver words coming to a screeching halt with the rest of his hopeless scheming.

He shook out his shoulders. Of course.

Some tribes exchanged daggers. The Hooligans sometimes exchanged shirts as a romantic gesture, though he wasn’t sure you’d gotten it or given him yours with the intention of winning him over, which you had done a while before then.

He had no clue what kind of customs you carried over from wherever you were from. He had no idea where you were from.

Hiccup resisted to clear his throat, as he knew it would end up more of a gag, or a faint, and that wasn’t exactly what he needed, still all too aware of Dagur,

Oh Gods, he had no idea where to start.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you!” Dagur continued, turning away from Hiccup, giving him a much needed few seconds of reprieve, before jerkily opening his arms wide and taking a few steps towards you, “I’m going to enjoy tearing the both of you apart!”

Dread curled in Hiccup’s stomach. He’d gotten too ahead of himself.

The two of you had to get out of there first. He had to get the two of you out there first. Or Toothless might, or you’d pull through. 

Hiccup winced.

The others were probably still annoyed at the idea that he was trying to skip out on training after pushing them into it. He hoped they didn’t start to believe he was lying for attention again.

He kind of really needed them to listen.

He had to ask. 

Hiccup brushed his hands down his tunic, wiping sweat down his sides, before shaking off his shoulders. He was trying to be as presentable as he could be, all lanky, skinny, sooted and short. He’d even run a washcloth over before running out.

If he didn’t, he could spend a year trying to figure out what kind of courtship would appeal to you. He had, and it had gotten him nowhere, because he had no idea where to start. This was easier.

The two of you were back on Berk, safe and sound, mostly. It was morning nearing noon. His Dad hadn’t been too mad at the idea of Hiccup butting heads with Dagur again, if it could even be called that, mostly because he hadn’t told him.

He wasn’t sure how it hadn’t gotten to his Dad yet but he wasn’t going to test his luck.

Toothless was off somewhere, sent away for the time being, so that you could have this moment, and Hiccup could be without his judgment.

“How have you been since the, uh,” Hiccup started, before trying again in a deeper voice, “Is it alright if I-?”

You nodded.

Maybe he could get you another shirt, anyways. Yours was a bit worn. Even if you didn’t know what it meant, he was sure you’d appreciate it. He hoped you would, catching you eyeing the Fishlegs’ mom every time she was out on the porch working on a new set of clothes.

He wondered if it was too late to give you his vest.

“I’m managing,” You said. You wore a tunic and a set of breeches. No skirt again, today. 

“What do girls like? Where you, uh, come from?” Hiccup asked. 

There was no one nearby besides a few sheep a little further off into the distance. You were standing half in the shade formed by an overhang under one of the huts by the edge of the fields. Hiccup was a little further back, in the sun.

The light did something odd to you which made his stomach jump.

“Running out of ideas?” You stuck out your tongue. You had a bucket under a funnel, a series of ramps and dragons leading a trail of water down a half-pipe path and into it. It filled with a slow but steady hollow trickling.

He made it. The ensuing albeit awkward, ‘Thanks, I really like your system,’ was enough to send his head into the sky for the next lifetime.

“It all depends on the person,” You squinted at him, “Some girls like flowers, other girls like books and nice dates, and chocolate-”

Chocolate was- expansive. An expensive choice, that was all Hiccup knew. It was apparently very, very hard to trade for. That might take a while. Flowers, he could do.

“-is a big thing on Valentine’s Day.” You finished.

He swallowed.

“Valentine’s Day?” Hiccup managed.

“It’s a holiday for lovers,” You said, picking up the bucket and resting it on your hip, grass crunching under your feet.

“What- what kind of stuff do you like?” Hiccup asked, searching for a place to lean with his arms. His prosthetic creaked as he shifted, signaling its need for an oiling. There was nowhere.

“You’re asking for Astrid, aren’t you? Go ask her.” You said, turning around and taking a few steps in the opposite direction.

He had no idea where you’d gotten that idea from.

“What? No. No, I’m just asking for- uh, no reason,” Hiccup coughed nervously, “Not Astrid, really.”

He had liked Astrid before, but you weren’t around for that. Mostly. He hoped you weren’t. That would be a pretty bad look.

It was silent for a moment, nothing to hear besides the distance rabble of vikings and the complacent bleating of a sheep who’d wandered too close.

“Right.” You said, briefly looking back before picking up the bucket with shaky arms, resting it against your hip and walking away in full.

If he was the last bucket of water in a village on fire that Astrid wouldn’t take, he was a bug three islands away from you you’d never even thought about.

“Gah,” He dropped his arms, brows furrowing into a line as he grimaced at the sheep, who he’d found to be just behind him, munching on a thin bunch of grass with a rotating jaw, “Don’t look at me like that.”

Hiccup looked back towards you, growing smaller and smaller in the distance.

He really was off your radar.

Well, Astrid didn’t dislike him too much anymore. Maybe he’d get lucky again.

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

— flufftober (day 6) —

Warnings: fluff, alcohol consumption

Prompt: Singing one another to sleep

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: idk, late submission

@flufftober || flufftober masterlist

You tossed and turned, unable to get the thoughts to shut off and the sounds of the whispers and hushed voices out of your ears. The longer you tried to cut the world from you, the more prominent the world became. The blasted honks and car tires screeching against the road while sirens turned on and off in the distance. Low chatters and loud music from the floor below didn’t help the situation either.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s head peeked through the door, eyes bloodshot and a goofy grin on his face. His cheeks were blushed a bright pink colour and his blue eyes were dazed. He must have gotten into Thor’s Asgardian liquor.

Leaning up on your elbows and looking at him carefully, you could see that he had ditched his black blazer somewhere in the party. The sleeves of his light grey shirt were rolled up over his elbow and his metal arm glinted in the dim lighting as he walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

“I knew you weren’t asleep, baby,” he mumbled out, dropping down beside you on your bed and toeing off his shoes. Usually you would have stopped him at the door for his shoes to be placed in the rack beside the door, but he was too fast tonight. The shoes dropped to the ground with a sweep of his leg, murmuring, “You can scold me later for putting my shoes on our bed.”

“My bed,” you said, feeling his arms snake around your torso and nose nuzzle your neck as he pulled you close.

“Really? I thought I asked you to move in with me.” The smell of alcohol mixed into his cologne was making you light headed.

His words were sweet and kind, but not true. In the year you two had been together, Bucky was reluctant to touch you, let alone sleep with you. The first time he slept with you, nothing but sleep, he was stiff as a board on the other side of the bed. You had woken up to cold sheets and Bucky awake and sitting on your couch. The third time, he had actually slept through the night with you.

Six months into your relationship, he gave you your first hug, an embraced that lasted about three seconds, but it was longer than anything he had ever given you. Eight months in and he had been the one to ask to cuddle during the weekly movie nights you two were obligated to share. But he had never let anything go further and you two had yet to be together intimately.

You were fine with that, already knowing what he had gone through and what his boundaries were. You expected them to be there. You accepted the fact they were there.

“No, we haven’t moved in together, Bucky,” you whispered when he kissed your neck. Kisses were a frequent occurrence in the past few weeks or so. He kissed you again and lingered to mumble against your skin.

“Damn.” He paused, lowering his voice even more. “Thought I asked you to marry me.”

The words struck a cord in you and you pushed Bucky away slightly. You sat up and looked at him, agape and flustered. His eyes were on you, bottom lip pushing out to pout.

“Wanna cuddle with you, baby,” he slurred, wrapping his arms around your middle and placing his head in your lap. “Sing to me, please. You’re so talented and beautiful. I hear you singing in the shower.”

Your face heated up and you felt his arms tighten around you again.

“Y/N, please,” he whined.

“Okay, okay,” you whispered breathlessly.

I fall in love with you a little bit more

Little bit, little bit, a little bit more

Every time I think I've lost my way

I fall in love with you a little bit more

Little bit, a little bit more than before

Even on the days I'm not so sure

I fall in love with you a little bit more

When his light snores filled the room, you let your body relax and fall against the mattress. Tomorrow you would talk to Bucky about tonight and tomorrow Bucky would tell you he was telling you the truth. He would show you the ring in his pocket and the ring would settle on your finger. But tonight you slept with him.