#people who felt like they wouldn't see it happen in their lifetimes

[anantaru]

EX HUSBAND NEUVILLETTE

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! husband neuvillette headcanons

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, fluff, crack lmao, he‘s trying his best, very rough like he’s feral!!!!, fucks you like there’s no tomorrow, but the sweetest man, a little possessive without him realising

ex! husband neuvillette, who— as was wildly anticipated, would not instantly vanish from your life nor leave you stranded alone beside the mental toll that a separation would leave on the both of you— even after the grief-stricken divorce was at last, ultimately finalized and carried out.

ex! husband neuvillette who thought that— with the fullness of his devastated heart, that in his own very eyes, it was beyond a doubt commonplace to aid and assist his ex-wife in the so called "aftermath" of your troubling divorce, whilst more urgently, be in no qualms that you're being cared for with everything and anything you could possible need.

ex! husband neuvillette, who of course, would double check with you to not suddenly overstep any boundaries or take up space that you might need— yet bare in mind, if you were to ask him for help on any matter really, he'd immediately leave everything behind to fulfill your wishes first, considering he is used to it, but the man will tend to forget about his own personal needs which he needed so he could function properly— yet now with you out of the picture, walking back to his current reality was becoming a taxing task.

ex! husband neuvillette, who, aside from his own separate challenges and demands, would never dare to cast aside his important work of practically running the nation of hydro. much obliged, he was a prestigious, praiseworthy man, thus the reason for him to pull more effort and sleepless nights into his occupation.

ex! husband neuvillette who couldn't believe that you both were divorced in the first place because in all seriousness, there wasn't much changing and aside from a couple instances, for example that he wasn't seeing you frequently, it felt the same way to him.

ex! husband neuvillette who, after a couple weeks into your divorce, will suddenly become a little more distant, not responding to letters you would occasionally send to make sure he was okay— with the immediate turbulent, overcast weather in fontaine adding to the closing eeriness of the entire situation. it's constant, clouded and gray, a mirage of cold rain and an incoming storm, and the people of fontaine will begin to question what had happened or if it was simply an unlucky past couple of weeks.

ex! husband neuvillette who doesn't like the idea of divorce, as might be expected he understands it, but in his own regard, he does not approve of it, but he accepts it— additionally, he wouldn't force you to stay with him, again, why he had agreed on it in the first place. the man would lie to himself if he'd say that it doesn't break his heart, the unclouded thought of wholly erasing the person he referred to as his 'wife' off his entire life was a frightening pondering.

ex! husband neuvillette wasn't willing to accept it, ever, but he did it for your sake and the small possibility of you becoming close again, in the future? perhaps, he was willing to wait endlessly, condemning himself to a lifetime in darkness, knowing full on well that his most desired dream to reconcile arguably wouldn't come true— on top of that, after careful, deep talks on how to properly navigate your divorce and being separated from now on, you have both ultimately agreed on remaining 'friends' in a sense, such was easy to state of course but you longed to make the best out of it, or at least try.

ex! husband neuvillette who will against all odds, still keep his wedding ring put on its designated place. granted, he had gotten quite accustomed to the feeling of it being wrapped around his finger and doesn't want to take it off. if you do decide to ask him about it, given that you aren't wearing yours anymore, he will plainly state that he got used to it way too much and it had grown on him, really, becoming a part of his person so ultimately taking it off would result in the same as him severing a limb off his body.

ex! husband neuvillette who still calls you his wife unintentionally, in the beginning of the first couple of weeks, it will happen almost all the time. be that as it may, he doesn't do it on purpose to somehow hurt you or make you uncomfortable, and he was aware of the fact that he needed to get accustomed to the feeling of being single again, of not being married anymore but calling you his wife just warmths his chest and hugs him from inside and out.

ex! husband neuvillette bets on it, it's like his whole day could be stacked with work on end, without a second of tranquility in sight, rain droplets covering the nation of hydro, but when he thinks about you, only you, a smile coruscates over his soft lips, increasing his heart beat, it's all so painful but he wouldn't want it any other way because nothing, and he emphasizes it deeply, nothing would be as painful as having you gone form his life.

ex! husband neuvillette who, and pay attention now, this would only happen if his strong, rational thinking skills and durable emotions towards keeping the laws of this world truthful were somewhat altered in an instance of weakness, but he would adore to throw and punish every new person you would date after him behind bars, yet not before properly dragging them to a trail that they cannot win, for him to look down on them— again, it's a small fantasy he wouldn't bring into life, he honored his noble work.

ex! husband neuvillette who knows that even day dreaming about such wrongful ideas were full of holes and malice, yet beyond it, he keeps himself restrained in not interfering in your new relationships— which he had thought must be a lot, you could say he believed that you were already out and about in the dating world, overthinking the worst out of all possibilities that could happen.

ex! husband neuvillette who will oftentimes send the melusines out to check up on you and tell him how you're doing— no, don't misunderstand, he doesn't want to know if you were dating again, he wouldn't, after all, this was your personal life and he wasn't your husband anymore. but then again, surely checking every now and then wouldn't hurt a soul, right?

ex! husband neuvillette will send you freshly picked flowers frequently, or have your favorite dish made by a professional chef. how can i forget to mention that he tends to buy a small, cute souvenir that would remind him of you and send it your way instantly. at how things were slowly progressing, the man will be quite embarrassed in facing you again, granted that you had promised to remain friends, he fears that the constant raining and pouring around fontaine would make it desperately obvious on how he was truly feeling, what can there be left anyways, nothing but the untouchable part of him, his aching soul begging for closeness.

but ex! husband neuvillette does not want to trouble you, fearing he might become overbearing in his doings, but he misses you, this time it's more raw than that, more exposed, more pure. he longes for a moment where he can see and feel you again, his mind circling through emotions and pondering, sinful dreams stitching his psyche together and calming down his heart.

ex! husband neuvillette who will be surprised, yet overly thrilled as if he was about to jump off his chair, when you ask the sweet melusines to hand him over a letter— the scent of the thin paper reminding him of your fragrance, a similar one he noticed whenever he kissed your neck. beyond question, they couldn't have told him fast enough, he finishes up the necessary work load for the day, at once forging ahead to your once shared house. you know it by now but he does not falter, he wants this to be perfect, carefully picking up a bouquet of flowers, with the flowers in questions being the very ones that have been decorating your wedding venue back in the day, oh sweet memories, he hopes he doesn't come off as crazy.

ex! husband neuvillette who tries to play it cool, it's not a big deal, but why were his hands sweating? his breathing was fast too, burgeoning, each following step towards your home, his limbs and muscles would begin to tremble, it's evident and almost aflame, but the weather has been nice again all of a sudden, for once in fontaine and he couldn't wait to see you.

ex! husband neuvillette who cannot say anything when you open the door for him, all these miles with the memories of your passionate time together pouring back into his mind. it's silly, but so real, and there was a silence, although not of an uncomfortable kind, it was overthrowing the hefty atmosphere.

and honestly, you think ex! husband neuvillette was cute when he was all overwhelmed and bereft of speech, even cuter when he’s silently walking past the door, your hands slowly wrapping around the bouquet of flowers to place them aside, on top of a wooden drawer before panning your eyes back into his grasp— which was his piercing, conquering gaze.

you could perceive the cutting tautness, how the reinforced pressure alone couldn't be torn, not with a sharp knife, no sword, no blade, because forthrightly— there wasn't anything on this planet that was able to part this emerging and crashing body chemistry.

all fairness to the situation— your captivation was off the charts, two people unable to coexist while parted, searching within your souls to understand what was happening. yet then it hit you, that maybe— heavily placed on a single maybe, that there might've been a cruel mistake in how things ended between you both;

or did they end?

because like a bullet piercing through soft flesh, it gave the impression away as if you were both moving closer to your sweet frames until you could clearly feel his warm, clothed chest pushed against your own— hopeful eyes remained locked within your gazes as you carefully slide your hands behind his neck without breaking his stares.

ex! husband neuvillette whose breathing was all fast and hasty, yet much swifter was his never ending intention to kiss you again and taste your lips in the process, he cannot stop himself anymore, but he must— for some reason, he cannot fathom that this might be reality and that you both would have a second chance in this life after all.

"kiss me." you suddenly whisper, eyes aglow with his own enlarging at the nervous utterance, subtle touches weaving together and showing your open truths.

ex! husband neuvillette feels how tense he has gotten and tries to relax— on top of that, he was reminiscing about the past and the bare memories of your writhing body splayed under his large one, his entire weight on top of you, just the whisper of his sinful imagination made his mouth water— he truly believes he was in fact dreaming right now, especially when you tell him to kiss him again.

there were no thoughts to process anymore, no focus he could grasp on to remain clearness— what was left were true, unfaltering desires and the scalding pain of waiting. that‘s when you kiss him instead, his body immediately welcoming your fervid warmth, pulling his head towards your own in a heart beat.

ex! husband neuvillette felt a heavy hardship being lifted off his shoulders the moment your lips touch his, and each one of the words he had planned to spell out to you, they form into a sting that was beating into his heart, repeatedly, the sharp stitches seeping into his veins slowly. and he refuses to cry in front of you, or expose to you that everything that had happened after your separation was covered in nothing but a silent numbness.

swallowing the lump in his throat, ex! husband neuvillette guides you to the bedroom, it was hard to decipher what was real or not, each motion of your lips rounding across his own felt like he was dreaming the most beautiful dream of them all. the whisper of cold air brushes across your bodies when he opens the door to the cold room, his own imagination going wild when he peeks at the neatly made bed, or the wooden drawer next to it, still having your wedding picture on display.

ex! husband neuvillette who takes his time in undressing you, the fear of someone taking you away from him again, even now, was still there and he wanted, no, needed to relish in this as good as possible. neuvillette wets his lips, nervous, "my love.. are you sure about this?" and he hesitated for a second— but when you tug at his own sleeves now, fondling with the expensive garment, nodding your head and expertly wrapping your digits into the thin fabric to help him out of it, he knows you wanted it as badly as he did, popping his arms back so you could pull his coat down, your mouth twisting into a subtle smile.

ex! husband neuvillette who touches you featherlight, slowly parting your legs to settle in between, and butterflies expand in your belly when you admire his beauty from up close again, his muscles twitching when you decide to lightly graze his skin with your fingertips, smoothly sliding over his chest before wrapping your arms around his neck. 

ex! husband neuvillette who could honestly cry the moment he first slides his cock into you again, kissing you again and again, more deeply, more feral and in need before licking into your mouth, leaving his large hand to wander down to the plush of your ass and push you into the mattress when he first bottoms out of you. you're so warm, wet and comfortable while you're clamping down on him. and neuvillette pistols his hips like an electric light, hoping he'd be able to hit so deep inside your warm cunt till you practically feel him stir up your guts.

and a moan slowly builds up in your throat as your tits brush against his strong chest— whilst neuvillette places a delicious, fast pace on you, the bare strength of his thrusts making the headboard bounce back and forth the wall as he nibbles on your bottom lip while fucking his cock into you, your gummy walls squelching at each well received pump.

ex! husband neuvillette who roughly palms your tits and plays with your nipples with his hips moving in a feral tempo— whilst those breathy, wet pleas of your name, the ones he whispered against your ear, evolve into gluttonous, hungry groans, whilst the thought about losing all of this made it more difficult for him to say anything at all, his throat acting as a trap for that one sentence he intended to spell out, the sound of it awaiting to break free— but the nervousness couldn't be surpassed as he takes a hold of your hand, desperately clutching on it before grinding his erection back into you, a pulse surging through the entirety of your walls.

ex! husband neuvillette who finds it mesmerizing on how you were so responsive to his every nibble and touch, his thudding cock diving between your legs while he fists your tits in his warm hand, your lips parting with cries and begs while meeting his hungry pace.

his hips, much bigger than yours, keep hitting into you, a lustful gaze on your facial expression clouding your mind as he makes you feel so unbelievably good, soaking your sheets as you kiss him, famished and hot, feeling his needy grunts exhaling through his lips as you clench down hard, gazes meeting once and for all, "i love you." you say, almost cry it out, and neuvillette wanted to be patient with you, claim your body to its full exhaustion afterwards, but not now, he cannot keep his cool this time— not anymore, not after you said those very three words he wasn't able to utter out all night.

you're truly driving him insane, and his body was pressing hotly against yours as you wiggle and writhe under him, puppy eyes watching him please you from under your lashes while you’re requiring more of his cock in you, please please, you say, your pussy clamping around his girth and milking him for good.

ex! husband neuvillette who tells you, "i love you too, i love you too.." in quick, fast paced syllables, and the burning veins in his body turn numb when you begin to cry out of joy and pleasure, hastily pushing your heels into his back to signal him to fuck you harder as he pounds away into your creamy pussy, dragging his hard erection along your sore walls and burning pleasure spots.

now— your nails simmer over his defined back, both sweetly indulging in each others company and the feeling of being one again, nothing else but solid, fast paced pleasure which was turning him on, so fucking much, his breathing puffed and winded, throwing his head back as you're doing your best to match his insane rhythm.

your pussy swallows him up like magic, your damp lashes tickling his shoulders as he buries his face against your neck to suck on the wet flesh, in accessory to the numerous amount of praises, declarations of love and filthy curses plastering your sweaty skin. or how about the swallowing screams and begs of your name that ripple through him as you moan out fervently, twitching under his towering body and arching your back.

oh, well? it's now or never your “ex” husband fears, and he decides to push his pulsing cock deep into your hole, deeper, just a little bit more, please! until you're desperately screaming into his shoulder, as far as it can fit into your little pussy, sending you over an intoxicating edge.

and ex! husband neuvillette was, at long last, back at where he should be, where he should've been all along, with you, making passionate and meaningful love to each other, because the man needed it, needed you close to him, and he cannot and will never again, paint the world without you in it.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #neuvillette x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #neuvillette x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #neuvillette fluff

[sorcerous-caress]

Companions with a Halfling Tav

[Fluff, kind reader, chubby reader, halfling reader, nb!reader]

[Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara]

Wyll

Anyone seeing the two of you together wouldn't have believed that you were strangers who met less than a month ago. The playful teasing, the wholehearted smiles, and the comfort at being at each other's sides.

You really had a way to wrap every human you meet around your fingers, like you were an old friend they haven't met in a long time. It didn't take long for Wyll to feel at ease around you.

Your kind nature, your beautiful smile and your cheery demenour. You've always known how to brighten the mood and lift someone up even on their worst days.

Each meeting with Mizora left a sour taste in the aftermath, yet you've washed it down with each warm drink you handed to Wyll afterwards. Looking up at him from below, he felt his heart melt at the concerned look in your glossy eyes as you lifted the cup up towards him, a reassuring smile on your lovely lips.

A smile that said things will be better, that he will be okay.

He felt like the luckiest man in the world to have met you, met someone as precious and caring as you.

Karlach

And here she thought she'd be the only person in this camp who is looking to have fun and forgo the storm for rainbow.

The others are fine, but Karlach had what felt like a lifetime of misery already, of constant struggle and endless days to wallow in her sadness.

She has missed life, missed living and the excitement of it. The tenderness of a hug, and yours are absolutely the best she has ever had.

The way you fit perfectly into her arms whenever she gets on her knees to wrap you in her embrace. Your soft chubby body was brimming with love and care. Each warm hug reminded her of why life is worth living, of why she fights so hard everyday to stay a little bit longer.

She understands know why the goddess of halflings is also that of life, you're the embodiment of the one thing she was robbed of and god she never plans on letting you slip through her fingers.

The sound of both of your laughter can be heard in the early breakfast as Karlach sits next to you, her head laying on her crossed arms on the table while admiring you from the side. A time where everyone else is grumpy and sleepy, the two of you manage to be bundles of sunshine.

Your energy feeding into one another, returning the same effort and regifting the same happiness back.

Gale

Enjoys cooking food with you by his side. There is something to be said about the homely magic halflings bring with them wherever they may go.

Somehow, you sitting near him on the table and helping him chop down the vegetables for the stew, makes him feel at ease. Your smile is infectious, and Gale finds himself humming a song as the two of you make dinner together for the rest of the camp.

Your kind had a clear appreciation for the arts, for the many things humanity invented. Gale would invite you back to his tent after the meal, offer to read you stories as your small body curls on top of him. His blanket keeping the both of you warm.

Gale is sharing one of the most prestigious literature books, yet you've easily managed to keep up with the complex lore, identifying the many plot twists before they could happen. All while laying on top of him, letting him greedly cuddle your soft chubby body and speak his heart out.

Halfling and humans truly had a bond like no other, so similar and yet so distinct. To Gale, you were the warm home he'd come back to at the end of an adventure, the warm cup of chocolate during a rainy day.

Lae'zel

She doesn't treat you any differently. One day, you bring up the fact of being halfling, and she says she didn't really notice.

If you ask more then she admits that she judges and memorise people by their combat abilities, rarely by their looks or shapes. As far as she was concerned, she wouldn't have been able to tell you apart from a tiefling. To her, there are only gith and others.

While you do fall into others, you're not exactly like them. There is something special about you, the fact you take a step back each time the party fails or encounters something damning, let them recollect themselves and have some time to relax before embarking again.

She admits she has always looked down on those ways, thought they were meaningless and a waste of time. Yet you've proven her wrong many times, and that she admits.

To rest, sit back and stay in the current moment. She feels restless, gets more agitated the more she has nothing to do. What do you mean her sword is sharp enough and doesn't need more sanding? You don't know what you're talking about, there is nothing such as too much sanding.

But you hold her hend in your own, entangle your finger with hers. Guide her back to the fire with the rest of the companions, hand her a warm bowl of soup and tell her to take it easy.

She hasn't touched her soup, yet there is a great warmth spreading through her. Your hums of a melody, quiets her brain, your touches, relaxes her drumming heart.

She looks at the stars and longs for a home she has never seen before, a place where she should belong. But at this moment, nothing in her life felt more like home than sitting by your side.

Shadowheart

She's been taught to hold on to her sadness, to use it to guide her. That her suffering gives her purpose, that hear tears give her meaning.

The two of you have a lot to learn from each other, the moon and sun in an endless dance, chasing one another whilst avoiding the other.

She relives her sadness too much, reopens her wounds too many times. You bury yours, stretch your smiles too thin and downplay your injuries too often.

She returns your kindness and is there to see you at your worst of states. When you can't be the person who is expected to cheer everyone up, when you feel like the ground is crumbling beneath your feet, she catches you in her arms.

And you teach her forgiveness, of her self, current and past. Of her sins, current and future. You extend a hand of mercy and she in return offers an embrace of empathy.

The two of you share a special bond of mutual respect and understanding.

Astarion

He never thought he'd fall for someone shorter than him, truth be told. High elves were always raised on these less than ideal views for the smaller races.

And maybe this is the irony of the fate, that the single person to manage to steal his heart was you. Barely reaching his waist and easily lifting him up.

He was cautious around you at the state, after all the most chipper and goody two shoes people hid the darkest secrets behind that facade. You can't possibly be all smiles and rainbows, can you?

Yet no matter how many times he rummaged through your closet, not a single skeleton could be found, not even a loose tooth or a spine.

Astarion didn't realise how much he was starting to warm up to you, until that one morning you were helping him brush his hair while he sipped on a cup of a blood you've kindly prepared for him.

As he held the cup with the cute cow prints on it, the same one he stole from you, it hit him.

You've been coddling him and making him feel at home without him realising it for so long! And like an idiot he absolutely ate it up. God, is this why his ancestors warned him about Halflings? They really sneak up on you when you least expect it, and the next thing you know, you're spending hours making friendship bracelets for each other.

No, of course, he'll never take it off. Are you crazy? Anyway, you sneaky traitor, it's his turn to do your hair, so come sit on his lap so he can leech of your warmth while hugging your plump body and stomach. No shush, he has earned this. Look, he even has a friendship bracelet as proof.

Halsin

He is very gentle with you, aware of his size, and makes sure never to make you feel uncomfortable or take too much space around you.

Halflings are one of the many gifts of nature, their kind souls and inviting homes have been written about in many elf history books. The best friends of the infamous humans.

You ground him back into reality whenever he gets too lost in his head, worrying about the shocking reality of the modern cities, or the forgotten essence of nature. Your tender touch against his cheek and invitation to sit near the fire and talk it out is everything he could've ever asked for.

You bring home with you wherever you go, be it amidst the misty shadowlands and withering trees, or inside the basement of an abandoned building the party sought cover in from the outside rain.

In fact you'd be the type to embrace the rain and dance in it, barefoot and all. Reigniting Halsin's connection to nature by reminding him of all the beautiful gifts of these earths.

Minthara

Just who do you think you are? Waltzing in here like a drop of sunshine, all cute and small, making Minthara question her sanity.

You stand for everything she has been raised against, the loud laughter that'd get you killed in the underdark, the friendly kind nature that'd get you taken advantage of by the drows, the lovely smile that you flaunt around so easily.

And yet, you're the hero of her story. The person who saved her, let her keep her identity when they tried to erease her existence.

Your light never dims no matter how grumpy she is, your smile never falters no matter how deep her frown gets.

She respects you, admires you and is enthralled by your beauty. The way your thighs look so mesmerising whenever you walk, your chubby fingers that look so short in comparison to her larger hand.

Minthara have pressed the edge of her sword against people's necks for simply thinking they get to pick you up without permission. Have threatened people's lives over some insensitive comments about your own kind and how halflings don't belong in the battefield.

You're brave, truly brave. It takes true strength to remain kind in the face of a harsh world, to remain soft inside. And Minthara knows that, for it is the one thing she couldn't amount to.

#♡Astarion #♡Gale #♡Wyll #♡Shart #♡laezel #♡Karlach #♡Halsin #♡Minthara #♡Halfling reader #♡fluff #♡several characters #gale x reader #astarion x reader #shadowheart x reader #lae'zel x reader #minthara x reader #karlach x reader #halsin x reader #wyll x reader #bg3 x reader #fluff #Halfling reader #halfling tav

[talesofesther]

sweet calamity | ch 2

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Series Summary: It was something people described as the sweetest pain, the feeling of when the soul that's destined to find yours is closer to you. Wednesday saw it as a curse, promised herself she would hate whoever was chosen for her; but it's easier said than done.

A/N: Slowly, the story is shaping itself, hopefully y'all will like it. Also thank you so much for 7.5K followers, love ya. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 1 here

It was rare the times where you woke up before your alarm, given that you weren't exactly a morning person. But you could barely sleep last night, excitement and apprehension twirling inside your stomach; so it was no surprise when you woke up with the birds this morning.

Today was your first official day at Nevermore, the place where, supposedly, you belong. You were lucky to already know a few of the students here, Eugene for one, who had given you a basic tour of the school yesterday.

To say that Nevermore was big would be an understatement, the ancient, castle-like structure had your anxiety spiking as soon as you walked through the gates. It was a given that you'd take your sweet time getting lost here.

Just as you are right now.

You were leaning back on one of the stone walls on the quad, cell phone in hand as you read one of your mother's latest texts; have a good first day darling, remember to make friends and don't isolate yourself, love you.

With a soft sigh, you typed back the generic response you always gave your mom, a sweet thanks and I love you that usually did the trick so she wouldn't press the matter.

Stashing your phone on your backpack, your gaze roamed over the hallways and doorways, searching for any clues on where the hell botany class was supposed to be. Technically, you could just ask someone. Your fellow outcast colleagues came and went, passing by you nonstop. Yet part of you didn't want to be the lost newbie.

You pushed yourself away from the wall, turning around on the spot, forcing your peers to dodge you as you took a slow step backward to get some new perspective.

And that's when it happened again, so suddenly this time that it got you stumbling on your own feet.

It reminded you of when you accidentally touched that hot frying pan when you were seven. The burning, sharp and angry against your skin; right on the pulse point of your wrist. The same one you felt for the very first time just yesterday, and maybe that was the main reason for your restlessness today.

Your mother always talked with you about soulmates, about how she was lucky to have found hers and that maybe you would be too. But at the end of the day, she was also a realist. She had never once allowed you to dream too big, hope too much. Because she knew it wasn't a reality for everyone.

You grew up in a world of maybes. Maybe you will find yours, maybe you won't; both are okay. And that was your truth, you were content with any outcome.

Until yesterday.

It's strange how a few seconds can change a lifetime.

You had never cared much about having a bond with someone, but then you felt it. It was almost palpable if you focused enough, that fragile red string tied around your finger, sending shockwaves to your heart and changing its rhythm.

Overnight, the thought of breaking this bond became almost unfathomable.

Your backpack bumped into someone when you lost your footing, you quickly turned around with an apology on your lips, but the person spoke first;

"Whoever it was, do it again and I will break each of your fingers." She spoke lowly, with a bite to her tone that gave you goosebumps.

You could tell she straightened her tie before turning around to face you, and once she did so — ever so slowly — any words you had tangled on your tongue faded completely.

She was all raven black hair and smooth pale skin, her lips had a dark shade of burgundy to them, shaping the lines to perfection; if you squinted, you could see freckles over her nose; her eyes were just as dark as her hair, lashes kissing the corner of her cheeks as she blinked once, twice and then kept her gaze on you with a faint frown to her eyebrows.

Something about her got your heartbeat going haywire. It was addictive.

Only when the silence was bordering awkward that you found your voice again; "shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you." It didn't help your nerves that you could feel the eyes of the passing students on you, as if they were watching a live decapitation ceremony — plus the ever-present ache on your skin.

Talk about an eventful first day.

All the girl did was angle her chin up, her eyes skimming up and down your body. "Stop walking backwards and maybe it won't happen again."

You pursed your lips, nodding once. Touche. "That's great advice, actually." You attempted a smile, but when you got no response back, you continued; "uh anyway, I have to go to botany class so, I see you around?"

If you looked closely, you could tell she acknowledged your words with a nod of her own. Figuring that's all you were getting, you turned around and took a step the opposite way.

A beat or two passed, almost as if she was considering if you were worth her time of day or not.

"I'm heading to botany as well," the raven-haired girl's voice called after you.

You looked at her over your shoulder.

"And that is not the way." She told you pointedly, raising a perfectly styled eyebrow at you.

Good one, idiot. Was all you could think to yourself.

You stood in the middle of the hallway with six feet between you and the girl whose name you were already itching to know, unsure if she wanted you to tag along or not.

"I'm not gonna wait on you forever," she said then, impatiently, and you scrambled to fall into step beside her.

You followed by her side as she left the quad, passing through Nevermore's gardens — which were breathtaking this time of year, the huge trees with a mix of faded green and yellow on their leaves, some of them already forming a blanket on the grass beneath them, old stone paths for you to walk on and a cold breeze in the air, countered by warm sunlight; you could spend hours out here — until you saw the big greenhouse in the distance.

"Thank you for this," you spared a timid glance at the girl beside you, "really, I would probably still be walking in circles if it wasn't for you."

There was no response other than a blank look in your general direction; you wanted to hear her voice though. "I'm Y/N, by the way." The question about her own name went unsaid.

Did you always have the need to speak so much? Wednesday wondered.

By no means, she was one to care enough in helping newcomers find their way around. They could be bothersome, asking too many questions and delaying her routine.

Yet there was something about you that got her feeling uneasy when she considered parting ways. For a second, she wondered if it was your soul that was doomed with hers, but you had already bumped into her and the cursed burning was still there; with no pattern to it, ever unpredictable, resembling the push and pull of waves on the oceanside yet never going away entirely.

And Wednesday wanted to be annoyed, she should be annoyed, shouldn't she? Because the sooner she finds out who her other half is, the sooner she can put an end to it.

She wasn't. She wasn't bothered that it wasn't you. Because the thought of hating you was slightly unappealing.

Her jaw was tight, sunlight framing her profile and reflecting on her pupils as she said; "Wednesday."

Were you going to be another Enid? Talking her ears off every given minute only to warp your way inside her cold heart eventually?

Wednesday let out an indignant scoff at the mere thought of it.

Her response lit you up like a Christmas tree; "Enid's roommate?"

You reached the greenhouse and Wednesday stopped in front of the glass doors. She turned to face you, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"Uh, we're friends," you were quick to elaborate, eyes focused on the way Wednesday's fringe flowed with the wind, "well, our parents are friends so we became friends too, she talked a lot about you on vacation. I almost feel like I already know you."

To that, Wednesday sharpened her gaze daringly, sure that Enid's version of her had the potential to be twisted into something sweetly inaccurate.

And was it bad that your panicked face was somewhat adorable?

"Not trying to imply that I do," you hurriedly said, eyes a tad too wide, "I'm just saying that I've heard a lot about you."

You amused her; the same way a cat finds it amusing to play with its prey. There was a ghost of a smile on Wednesday's lips; "yes, we do share a room."

The greenhouse was already partly filled with students when you walked in together, its glass walls almost entirely covered by plants, allowing only little bits of sunlight to come through as the smell of several different flowers engulfed your senses.

There were a few seats empty, but when you settled on a table at the back, Wednesday felt compelled to follow suit, making herself comfortable on the chair beside yours.

You kept surprisingly quiet during most of the class, taking notes in your notebook and occasionally tapping your pen against the paper but other than that, quiet. Wednesday felt strangely at ease in your company.

Wednesday had her hands neatly resting on the table, half listening to the new teacher's boring explanation about a poisonous plant and half counting the new species added to the greenhouse since she last came here.

She had counted twelve by the time her attention was captured, by you, no less.

There was a potted orchid resting by your side, it was a small thing, its soil a little too dry and its petals a little too pale — apparently the new teacher wasn't as attentive with her plants.

Wednesday watched the way you raised a hand to the poor flower, fingertips grazing the tip of its petals, and from each place you touched, a burst of life erupted. Slowly, the flower regained its bright colors, the leaves standing tall again in a deep shade of green at the same time that a loving smile came to your lips.

"Interesting," this time, Wednesday was the one to break the silence.

Her voice made you flinch, as if you had been in your own world for a moment. You took a deep breath before saying; "she was looking a little sad."

With her eyes still on the colorful orchid, Wednesday asked; "you make things come to life?"

"Uh, plants mostly," you shrugged, like even you didn't know the full extent of your abilities, "but yeah."

You looked up at Wednesday, not expecting to find her eyes already on you; dark as the night, if you looked closely, you could find galaxies in them to get lost in. You couldn't remember ever becoming this quickly infatuated with someone before, so much so, that it got you wondering — hoping — what if it's her?

The hairs on your arm stood up, a shiver going up and down your back. Could it be her?

"Enid always loved it," you forced out, at the same time that you forced the what-ifs out of your head — because you could almost hear your mother saying; hope is dangerous, don't ever let it overcrowd your senses. "She used to tell me that I'm lucky, that I could just conjure up any bouquet I'd want when I find my soulmate," you grinned at the memory, "and I always told her it was not that simple, that I can't make things out of thin air."

"Enid can be naive," Wednesday stated, tone a tad too tight, "she often times sees the world through rainbow lenses."

You chuckled, "do I sense some disdain?"

There's a beat before Wednesday says anything; a beat where she just looks at you, wondering when you got so comfortable with her, and why she let you.

"Quite the contrary," she tells you then, "Enid is one of the few people I tolerate here."

You smiled faintly, eyes downcast and focusing on Wednesday's hands instead of her eyes, "not for Enid."

Wednesday blinked slowly as understanding downed on her, she straightened in her seat; "most people fail to realize that having your soul linked to another is nothing short of a burden." Her words rolled off her tongue easily, that was her truth.

You nodded, not agreeing but acknowledging her view, "why would it be a burden?"

"Because no one asked for it, it's an inconvenience that's forced upon you. And people expect you to just accept it, love it, even," Wednesday told you, her eyebrows scrunched together in anger, "why would I ever want something like that?"

Your lips parted as you felt her hatred as if it was choking you, her black nails tapping against the table at the same rhythm your heart pumped blood. "What happens if you meet yours?"

"For their sake, I hope it never happens."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 3 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @gayestfeels26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @witchyhs-blog @tobylikesfire @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @ladey @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story

[shedobewritingalittle]

I Know The End

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: She meets him. They fall in love. She dies, he mourns. The cycle continues.

Rating: R

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Angst, mildly graphic descriptions of death, grief, mentions of injury

In every universe, she dies.

It was a canon event-completely unstoppable if they wanted the multiverse to stay together.

Every Spider-Person knew this. Every time they saw a version of her at HQ, they knew not to get too attached. She'd disappear and another version would take its place, looking slightly different from the previous version of her, but her nonetheless.

In every universe, she also fell in love with Miguel O'Hara.

It was a canon event and Miguel had to just let it happen, no matter how much it hurt him.

Every time she'd swing into his life, he had to let the cards fall where they may, even if he knew exactly where they led to.

In one universe, she had a baby who looked just like the two of them. She balanced being a mom and being Spider-Woman almost effortlessly. Miguel, once again, was able to play dad, was able to pretend like this could be his life. He would spend the night in her universe, sleeping with her in the bed, helping her with the midnight diaper changes and three a.m. feedings. Hell, he had even thought about marrying her, wanting so bad to ignore the canon, wanting to find a way that he can have his cake and eat it too.

She had gotten impaled on some rebar after saving a kid from Green Goblin and the others had got there too late to do anything about it. Peter B. Parker had watched as Miguel lifted her off of it, her blood staining his suit. He could hear as his friend whispered something to her over and over in Spanish. Peter had kept his distance, knowing that Miguel needed this moment. Her daughter-the one that had his hair and her eyes-went to live with her mother's family in California.

In another, she was a nurse. She helped save lives off and on the clock. She would tend to the other Spider-People's wounds, stitching them up when needed, giving IV's and injections and millions other things. They had spent so many nights together in his room post-mission where she’d take care of him. Her lip drawn between her teeth as she carefully focused on her work. As soon as she was done, as soon as she came out of that almost trance-like state, his lips would be on her skin, wanting to repay her. Medical supplies would be tossed to the floor, injuries ignored.

She had gotten taken out by her universe's Doc Ock. Miguel had personally hunted him down after that, unable to control his rage. Peter B. and Hobie had to drag him off of the guy.

In one, she had been married to someone else, but that hadn't stopped the relationship from forming. She'd slip away from her universe and into Miguel's, and in between helping take down anomalies, she'd be in his bed. She had been sick the whole time and every time she used her powers she had gotten worse. They could all see it-the gradual decline even if she wouldn’t tell them outright, but Miguel knew. He wouldn't let her do missions anymore, but she still continued to be Spider-Woman in her universe. She died in her sleep beside the man she was married to, but not the one she loved. Miguel had attended the funeral, but had kept his distance. He had waited and watched as she had been buried. He had been the last one to leave the cemetery that day.

There were versions of her that were artists, models, chefs, actresses, teachers, but they were all her. And they all fell in love with him, one after another. No one could stop it, no one could prevent it. It was just fate.

She meets him. They fall in love. He mourns. And then the cycle continues.

The Y/N they had right now, she has lasted longer than all of the others. She had been with them for a few years now, which has felt like a lifetime compared to the time they got with the rest of them. That had only made them all uneasy. Every mission, every missed visit to HQ, they all thought that was going to be it, but then she'd show up, a smile on her face and jokes spilling out of her mouth without a second thought . Miguel was constantly checking in on her, which was something she teased him about.

"I guess you really do like me, eh bug boy?"

God, he did.

It was terrifying how attached to her he was, how his whole demeanor seemed to change as soon as she enters a room. His stoicism and broodiness completely melts away, no instead he gives her a version of himself that no one else sees (save for maybe Mayday-she's a baby, so how could he be a dick to her?). At first, Jess and Peter B. used to tease him about it, but as Y/N died over and over, the teasing came to an end. Now all they could offer was sad smiles when Miguel talked about her.

He was selfish-he wished he could keep her at HQ forever. Miguel wanted to ignore the canon and just hold onto her as long as he could, keeping her all to himself. Who cares if the multiverse falls apart? He’d have her, he’d have a life with her. That’s all he needed, isn’t it?

But he’d never go against the canon.

-

"I know, you know. How this ends. That we are doomed to repeat this over and over." She announces one right, moonlight-or at least what she thinks is moonlight-streaming in through the gaps of his curtains, his room smelling like the two of them-a mixture of her perfume, his cologne, sweat, and sex. Her finger absentmindedly traces a mark she’d had left on his skin moments ago. He sits up in bed, looking at her with wide eyes. His mind was racing. Had someone told her? Had he somehow let it slip? How did she know?

"Y-You do? Mierda. Why didn't you say anything?" He questions, his brows furrowed together. She shrugs, tucking an arm behind her head as she looks at him, as if it wasn't a big deal that she knew about her own coming demise.

"What's the point, cariño? I die, I come back, this starts all over again. Why spoil the time I get with you?" She responds, her eyes focused on him, "It's me and you, always."

"It's me and you, always."

She said it so nonchalantly, as if a piece of him doesn't die with every version of her that does. As if he doesn’t meticulously check for signs of the next version of her after she disappears from his life. As if it doesn’t feel like a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders when she starts to don her black and pink Spider suit, because he knows he’ll be with her soon. He lets his eyes shut for a moment as her fingers trace a scar on his shoulder. He thinks about what he should say, about if he should be upset that she knew and didn't tell him. But it's Y/N, and he can't bring himself to be mad at her.

"How long have you known?" Miguel asks, his eyes opening and landing on her. In the moonlight, he could see that her neck and chest were littered with marks-bruising from sucking at her skin, angry red lines from where he had dragged his fangs against her, puncture marks from biting her. They had already started to heal, just like the matching marks on his skin had started to.

"I think we all know-at least I did. We get bits and pieces of it, of you mainly. Of a life with you. I think for the most part, we all think it's a dream-that you're just a hot guy in a dream and then we meet you." Y/N explains, her gaze turning soft as the corners of her mouth turn upward. He keeps himself from rolling his eyes at her little “hot” compliment, his mind still reeling.

The rest is left unsaid-the fact that she can see all the different ways she has met her end, how she knows how it feels to die. The feeling of falling on that rebar, the sickening snap of her neck, her being strangled by a Doc Ock’s tentacle, the crushing feeling of a building falling on top of her, choking on her own blood, the feeling of her organs spilling out-

Sometimes she’ll reach down and expect to feel metal sticking out of her, tearing her apart.

"And you're-You're okay with that?" Miguel's eyebrows are furrowed together as he looks at her. Her eyes were on him, but she wasn’t there, not fully. He wished he could take a peak inside of her mind, wanting-no, needing to know how much she could remember. He studies her face in the moonlight, trying to read her, trying to understand how she could be so…okay with all of this.

"I still get a forever with you, don't I? I still get to live a life with you, even if it's just bits and pieces." Her voice is soft as her smile starts to grow ever so slightly, "And I'd take that any day."

His lips are suddenly against hers once more, his hand cupping her cheek. She’s a little surprised, but returns it eagerly, her hand slipping into his locks, holding him to her. Y/N knows that Miguel isn’t good at expressing his feelings, that talking about his feelings is like pulling teeth for him. She also knows what the kiss means, what he wants to say. Each kiss, each bite, each thrust-she can decipher them all.

I wish we had more time.

I wish it wasn’t like this.

I want this, with you, forever.

This isn’t enough.

I can’t keep watching you die over and over.

I need you.

It’s me and you always.

-

This Y/N still meets her end, just like the dozens of others before her.

When she goes this time, she’s in his arms, crimson spilling out of her, covering both of them. She’s looking up at him, tears in her eyes from the pain as she gives him a small, pained smile.

“Don’t be sad, pendejo. I’ll see you again, yeah?” She says hoarsely, blood covering her lips. He leans forward, pressing his lips to her forehead. He stays there a moment, his eyes shut. When he pulls away, there’s tears streaming down her face, but she is still trying to smile at him, trying to tease him. Even like this, she’s still trying to make him feel better. So Miguel tries to smile back at her, but he’s sure it looks more like a grimace.

“Yeah. You’ll see me again.” He murmurs, wiping away her tears. It’s more like he’s reminding himself rather than agreeing with her. He swallows the lump in his throat, “It’s you and me.”

“It’s you and me.” Y/N manages to get out, her breathing more ragged. Her hand moves to rest on top of his, where’s he’s putting pressure on her wound even though they both know there’s no point. Her fingers intertwine with his and he holds her hand. There’s tears streaming down his face, his like there is every time he watches her dies.

Miguel just sits there, holding her hand long after her body stills, her head laying on his chest. He knows eventually he will have to get up, that he will have to take her back to her universe. For now, he just sits there with her, holding her body to his, quietly telling her all of the things that were left unsaid.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099

[sweetbuckybarnes]

No One Would Miss Me

Pairings: Colin Bridgerton + Penelope Featherington, platonic Benedict Bridgerton + Penelope Featherington

Summary: Benedict finds out Penelope’s big secret.

"Would you excuse me, Lord Debling? I require some fresh air."

"Would you like me to come with you, Miss Featherington?"

"No, thank you, I would like a moment to myself."

Penelope curtsied to Lord Debling and made her way out of the Bridgerton's ballroom and out into the garden. Like previous years, the Bridgerton's Hearts and Flowers ball was a raving success - however, this year it was hosted by the new Viscountess Katharine Bridgerton.

Stepping out into the garden, she looked around at the decorations, before making her way over to where the swings she and Eloise once played on were. Only to see they were currently occupied by the second Bridgerton son.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting to see you, Benedict, I'll come back later," she says, turning around and just as she was about to go running away, Benedict spoke up.

"I don't mind, Penelope. You can keep me company." Penelope sighed and took the free seat next to Benedict. "Are you alright?"

Penelope shut her eyes for a moment, then looked over at him. "If I find myself marrying Lord Debling, I believe I may end up killing him not long after our wedding."

"Not well then?"

She shakes her head. "If I am to be honest with you?" Benedict nods his head. "He is dreadfully boring and rather dull. He cannot hold a conversation, he brushes off every single word I say and, surprisingly, he has more of an appetite than Colin of all people!"

Benedict watches as Penelope reaches over, swipes the cigarette he has hanging between his fingers and takes a drag. "Would not have put you down for a smoker."

"Only when Eloise stole them from you."

"I knew it was her!"

His five-word statement got a giggle out of Penelope, as Benedict looked over at the youngest Featherington daughter, he was surprised with how much he had missed her spending time with them - she and Eloise were always joined at the hip, you would never find one without the other.

"I don't mean to seem like I am prying, but whatever happened between you and Eloise?" He asks, reaching over and taking the cigarette back.

Penelope looked down at the ground. "I kept a secret from her. A very big secret, so much so she refuses to speak to me."

"What was the secret, if I am permitted to know?"

Penelope looked over her shoulder, her auburn curls fanning around her shoulders as her head looked around them - as soon as she deemed them safe from her secret, she looked over at Benedict. "I'm Whistledown," she whispered, loud enough for Benedict to hear, but quiet enough that it would be missed.

They fell into silence for a moment, as Benedict looked at Penelope in surprise. "You? You're Whistledown?" She nodded her head. "Wow, I would not have guessed it was you. Not in a million lifetimes!"

Penelope chuckled a little before the smile fell off her face.

"What I don't understand is why you and Eloise fell out? She practically worshipped Whistledown."

"She somehow worked it out. She went on a tirade about how she never believed I could do something like this, we both said some horrible things, but I knew she wouldn't believe me if I told her the whole truth, so I let her believe I am this vindictive and spiteful woman who only sees the worst in people."

"What is the truth?"

Penelope looks out into the garden, the pair haven't realised that hiding behind a tree is two of Benedict's siblings (Colin and Eloise). "The Queen was suspicious of her. She believed Eloise was Whistledown, I had to do something so she would stop looking at Eloise. If I didn't, I think Eloise would have been beheaded by now."

Benedict's eyes widen. "That might happen to you!"

"No one would miss me."

The three Bridgerton's felt their hearts break in their chests. No more than the third son, Colin Bridgerton. Penelope deemed herself so unworthy of love and happiness, that she was prepared to die alone.

"We would, all the Bridgerton's would," Benedict says, getting off his swing and crouching in front of Penelope.

Penelope shakes her head. "You might for a time, but you would all move on. You'd move away and get married, and so would little Gregory."

"What about Colin?"

"Colin made his feelings known last season," Penelope states. Colin peeks his head around the edge of the tree, seeing his older brother wiping away Penelope's tears with a handkerchief.

"Is that why you plan on getting married this season?"

"If I marry Lord Debling, I will have a title, and I'll be protected."

Benedict tilts his head, having seen the look in his brother's eyes when he poked his head around the side of the tree. "What if you marry a Bridgerton?"

Penelope looked down at Benedict, as it looked like a was currently down on one knee. "Not me!" Benedict laughs.

"If you asked, I would say yes. After your mama and Gregory, you are my third favourite Bridgerton."

Colin and Eloise share a look, they were once Penelope's favourite people, and now they are no better than her mother.

"You know which Bridgerton I am talking about."

"Gregory is far too young, I don't even know if I would be still alive when Gregory enters society."

"You know I mean Colin."

Colin lets go of the tree and stands to the side of the tree, looking between his older brother and the young woman he didn't know he adored. He watched as Penelope shook her head.

"I told you Colin made his feelings known and I have made peace with it." Benedict's confused face must have prompted Penelope to explain. "At my family's ball at the end of last season, I overheard Colin stating to half of the men of the ton, that he would not court me in his wildest fantasies. Which is odd, because I never asked him to court me."

Colin felt all the blood drain from his face. He doesn't remember much from the Featherington's ball last season, other than confronting Penelope's Uncle Jack. They always said a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts. Not this sober man.

"That's not true, Pen," Colin made himself known, as his brother got up from the floor and Penelope looked over her shoulder at him, there were tear marks on her face. It broke Colin all the more that his stupid drunk words caused this.

Penelope shook her head and looked away from him. "You do not need to excuse your actions, Mr. Bridgerton."

"Pen, will you please stop calling me Mr. Bridgerton?" Colin crouched down in front of her, watching over her shoulder for a second as Benedict walked over to where tears were silently falling down Eloise's face. "I am Colin. I have always been Colin to you."

"We need not act so familiar with each other, Mr. Bridgerton. Especially if I am to marry Lord Debling at the end of the season."

Colin watched Penelope for a moment. "You know there is a name which holds more protection than that of Lord Debling?"

"Who's?"

"Mine."

#polin fic #Polin #pen x colin #colin x pen #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #penelope bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton

[hd-junglebook]

Falling For It

Part 7 - Word Count 5647

This is kind of a longer one than normal, but I have served a late-night snack that should keep you occupied.

Y/N walked into the patient's room, a warm smile on her face as she greeted the elderly woman lying in the bed. "Good morning, Mrs. Johnson. How are we feeling today?"

The woman, who had to be at least 80 years old, squinted up at Y/N, her wrinkled face scrunching into a scowl. "How do you think I'm feeling? I'm stuck in this godforsaken hospital with a bunch of people poking and prodding at me all day long."

Y/N bit back a laugh, used to Mrs. Johnson's cantankerous demeanor. "Well, I'm here to check your vitals and make sure everything is looking good. Can you sit up for me, please?"

Mrs. Johnson grumbled under her breath but complied, pushing herself up into a sitting position. As Y/N wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm, the old woman eyed her suspiciously.

"You're too pretty to be a doctor," she said bluntly, her gaze sweeping over Y/N's face. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "I'm a nurse aide, actually. And yes, I'm quite sure I know what I'm doing. I've been doing this for a few years now."

Mrs. Johnson harrumphed, clearly unconvinced. "Well, just don't go trying to set me up with any of those young whippersnappers you call doctors. I'm too old for that nonsense."

Y/N nearly choked on her laughter, her eyes widening in surprise. "I wouldn't dream of it, Mrs. Johnson. Your heart belongs to Mr. Johnson, I'm sure."

The old woman's face softened, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Damn right it does. He may be gone, but he's still the only man for me."

Y/N felt a pang of envy at the love and devotion in Mrs. Johnson's voice. She wondered if she would ever find that kind of love, the kind that lasted a lifetime and beyond.

Shaking off the thought, she finished taking Mrs. Johnson's vitals and jotted down the numbers on her chart. "Everything looks good, Mrs. Johnson. Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?"

The old woman thought for a moment, her brow furrowing in concentration. "Well, you could find me a decent cup of coffee in this place. The stuff they serve here tastes like dishwater."

Y/N laughed, nodding in agreement. "I'll see what I can do. Maybe I can smuggle in a cup from the cafeteria for you."

Mrs. Johnson's face lit up, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I knew I liked you, kid. Just don't let those doctors catch you. They're a bunch of sticks in the mud."

Y/N grinned, giving the old woman a conspiratorial wink. "Your secret is safe with me, Mrs. Johnson. I'll be back later with that coffee."

With that, she turned and headed out of the room, a smile still playing on her lips. Despite Mrs. Johnson's gruff exterior, Y/N had a soft spot for the old woman. She reminded her of her own grandmother, with her sharp wit and no-nonsense attitude.

Y/N pulled her hair out of its bun, running her hands down the sides to slick it back before she walked down the sterile hallway of the hospital, her footsteps echoing off the linoleum floors.

As she rounded the corner, she nearly collided with one of her coworkers, a handsome doctor named Ethan. He reached out to steady her, his hand lingering on her arm for a moment longer than necessary.

"Whoa there," he said, a charming smile spreading across his face. "You okay?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a blush creep up her neck at his touch. "Yeah, sorry about that. Just lost in thought, I guess."

Ethan chuckled, his green eyes sparkling with mirth. "No worries. It happens to the best of us." He paused, his gaze sweeping over her appreciatively. "You look stunning today, by the way." Y/N felt her heart skip a beat at the compliment, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Thanks," she said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Ethan hesitated for a moment, as if gathering his courage, before speaking again. "Listen, I've been wanting to ask you something for a while now." He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers. "Would you like to go out with me sometime? Maybe grab dinner or a drink after work?"

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her mind reeling at the unexpected invitation. A part of her wanted to say yes, to throw caution to the wind and take a chance on something new. But even as she opened her mouth to respond, an image of Jack flashed through her mind, his piercing blue eyes and crooked smile sending a pang of longing through her chest.

She hesitated, torn between the desire to move on and the lingering feelings she still held for Jack. It had been a week since that fateful night at the lake house, a week since she had watched him kiss Lexi and felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. But despite her best efforts to forget him, to push him out of her mind and her heart, she found that he was still there, lurking in the shadows of her thoughts.

"I..." she began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words. "I'm flattered, really. But I don't think it's a good idea."

Ethan's smile faltered, disappointment flickering in his eyes. "Oh. Okay, no problem. I understand."

Y/N felt a twinge of guilt at the hurt in his voice, but she knew she was making the right decision. She couldn't lead him on, couldn't pretend to be interested when her heart belonged to someone else.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "It's not you, I promise. I'm just... not ready for something like that right now."

Ethan nodded, his smile returning, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "No worries. I get it." He glanced at his watch, a rueful chuckle escaping his lips. "I should probably get back to my rounds anyway. I'll see you around, Y/N."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Y/N standing alone in the hallway, her thoughts swirling with confusion and regret. She knew she had done the right thing, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing out on something, that by holding onto her feelings for Jack, she was letting life pass her by.

But even as she tried to push the thought away, she knew that it was no use. Jack had left an indelible mark on her heart, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to erase it. With a sigh, she turned and headed back to her patients, determined to focus on her work and push all thoughts of Jack and Ethan out of her mind.

…

Y/N walked out of the hospital, her mind still reeling from her encounter with Ethan. She made her way to the parking garage, her footsteps echoing off the concrete walls. The garage was mostly empty at this time of day, with only a few scattered cars parked here and there. Y/N reached her own car, a small, sensible sedan that had seen better days, and unlocked the door with a sigh.

Sliding into the driver's seat, she closed the door behind her and leaned back against the headrest, her eyes fluttering shut. It had been a long day, and she could feel the exhaustion settling into her bones. She knew she should start the car and head home, but for a moment, she just wanted to sit and breathe.

Her phone buzzed from inside her lunch bag, startling her out of her reverie. She reached for the bag, rummaging through its contents until she found her phone. When she saw who the message was from, she felt her heart sink.

It was from Quinn, and she could already guess what it was about. He had been texting her all week, ever since the disastrous night at the lake house. He was still furious about what had happened between Jack and Lexi, and he had been taking out his anger on anyone who would listen.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before opening the message, bracing herself for the inevitable onslaught of anger and frustration.

"I can't believe he did that to you," the message read. "After everything you two have been through together. He's a fool if he thinks Lexi is better than you."

Y/N sighed, her fingers hovering over the screen as she tried to think of a response. She knew Quinn meant well, but his constant reminders of that night were starting to wear down on her. She just wanted to move on, to forget about Jack and Lexi and everything that had happened.

But she knew it wasn't that simple.

She typed out a quick response, thanking Quinn for his support. As she hit send, she leaned back in her seat once more, her gaze drifting out the window. The sun was starting to set, casting an orange glow over the parking garage. It was a beautiful sight, but Y/N couldn't seem to appreciate it.

With a sigh, she started the car and pulled out of the parking space.

…

Hugo's relentless purring filled the room, a comforting background noise to y/n's blissful slumber. Curled up in her blanket cocoon, she snored softly, oblivious to the world around her. Meanwhile, Hugo, the brown tabby cat, lay at the foot of her bed, methodically grooming himself for the third time that evening.

Outside y/n's bedroom, shuffling footsteps and muttered curses echoed through the quiet house, signaling the start of another restless night. Y/n peeked out from under her blanket, her one eye cracked open as she surveyed the empty room. With a grumble, she readjusted herself, sinking deeper into the warmth of her cocoon.

Y/N's peaceful slumber was suddenly interrupted by the loud bang of her bedroom door slamming against the wall. She jolted awake, her heart racing as she let out a startled squeal. Hugo leaped off the bed in a blur of brown fur, alarmed by the sudden commotion.

As Y/N's sleep-addled brain tried to make sense of what was happening, she heard familiar voices filling the room. Peeking out from her cozy blanket cocoon, Heather and Angie, standing in the doorway with grins on their faces.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" Angie exclaimed, her voice far too chipper for whatever ungodly hour it was. "We've got plans today, and you're not going to waste away in bed!"

Y/N groaned, pulling the blanket back over her head in a futile attempt to block out the intrusion. "Go away," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the layers of fabric. "I'm hibernating."

Heather laughed, the sound far too gleeful for Y/N's liking. "Oh no, you don't," she said, marching over to the bed and yanking the blanket away. "You've been rotting and doom scrolling for a week and it's time to get out and have some fun."

Y/N squinted up at her friends, her eyes still bleary with sleep. "I don't want to have fun," she whined, making a grab for the blanket. "I want to stay here and wallow in my misery." Her friends exchanged amused glances, clearly used to her morning grumpiness. Angie chuckled.

"Come on, Y/N, you can't spend all day in bed. We've got plans!"

With a dramatic sigh, Y/N reluctantly pushed the covers aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She glanced over at Hugo, who was peeking out from under the dresser with wide, curious eyes. Smiling, she scooped him up and gave him a quick cuddle before setting him back down on the bed.

"Wish Jack luck, buddy," she said, giving him a scratch behind the ears. "I think he’s going to need it."

…

The bass thumped through the soles of Y/N's strappy heels as she stepped into the dimly lit club, Angie and Heather flanking her sides. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sweat, alcohol, and expensive perfume, and the dance floor was already packed with writhing bodies moving to the pulsing beat.

Y/N tugged at the hem of her skintight mini skirt, the black leather barely grazing her upper thighs. She had paired it with a deep red corset top that cinched her waist and pushed up her cleavage, the lacy fabric and her makeup smoky and seductive.

"Damn, girl!" Angie whistled appreciatively, her eyes raking over Y/N's curves. "You look like you're ready to break some hearts tonight."

Y/N grinned, striking a playful pose. "That's the plan, babe.” Heather laughed, linking her arm through Y/N's. The trio made their way to the bar after saying hello to the boys, Y/N could feel the eyes of the other clubgoers on them, appreciative glances and envious stares following their every move.

It was a heady feeling, knowing that she was turning heads and commanding attention. As they reached the bar, Y/N leaned forward, flagging down the bartender with a coy smile. "Three vodka cranberries, please," she purred, batting her lashes for good measure.

The bartender, a handsome man with a chiseled jaw and piercing blue eyes, grinned back at her. "Coming right up.” Y/N preened at the attention, feeling a rush of confidence surge through her.

As the bartender slid their drinks across the counter, Y/N took a sip, savoring the tart burst of cranberry on her tongue. She turned to her friends, raising her glass in a toast. They downed their drinks in unison, the alcohol buzzing through their veins and adding an extra shimmer to their already glowing skin.

As they set their empty glasses back on the bar, a new song came on, the beat even more infectious than the last. Y/N felt it thrumming through her body, urging her to move, to lose herself in the music and the moment.

She grabbed Heather's hand, tugging her towards the dance floor. "Come on, let's dance!" Heather laughed, allowing herself to be pulled into the fray. Angie followed close behind, her hips already swaying to the rhythm.

y/n raised her arms above her head, her hips swiveling and rolling in time with the beat. She could feel the eyes of the men around her, could sense their hunger and appreciation, but she paid them no mind.

…

Once the song came to an end, Y/N, Angie, and Heather made their way off the dance floor, their skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. They weaved through the crowd, heading towards the table where their friends were seated.

Nico, Jack, Marino, and Dawson were already deep in conversation, a collection of empty glasses scattered across the tabletop. They looked up as the girls approached, their eyes widening appreciatively at the sight of them.

"Well, well, well," Nico drawled, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Look what the cat dragged in." Y/N rolled her eyes, sliding into the booth beside him. Y/N couldn't help but smirk at Nico's playful banter.

 "Shut up, Nico. You know you missed us." She stated, shooting him a teasing glare before turning her attention to the others, her gaze meeting Jack's across the table. Marino chuckled, raising his glass in a mock toast.

"To the beautiful ladies of the evening," he declared, his words slightly slurred. "May they never leave us lonely again."

Angie snorted, snatching the glass from his hand and taking a sip. "Thanks, Marino," Y/N replied with a laugh, raising her own glass in response. "But I make no promises about future loneliness." Jack chuckled, his voice low and warm as he leaned back in his seat.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he said, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a moment longer than strictly necessary.

Nico and Marino exchanged knowing glances, their lips quirking into sly smiles as they observed the interaction. Heather nudged Y/N discreetly, her eyebrows raised in silent encouragement.

Everyone fell into easy conversation, Y/N couldn't help but notice Jack's eyes on her, his gaze intense and unwavering. She tried to ignore him, focusing instead on the story Dawson was telling about his latest game. She felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach, but she held his gaze steadily, refusing to show any sign of weakness.

But Jack was persistent, leaning across the table to catch her attention. "Can we talk?" Jack's voice was soft, almost pleading, his eyes searching hers for an answer. Y/N felt a rush of emotions swirling inside her, uncertainty mingled with a hint of anticipation.

Y/N hesitated, a frown tugging at her lips. She glanced around the table, noticing for the first time that a certain blonde was conspicuously absent. "Where's Lexi?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I told her not to come."

Y/N's eyebrow arched higher, a skeptical expression crossing her features as she processed Jack's words. "Interesting," she mused, her tone laced with skepticism. "So, what? You're playing mediator now?"

Jack's gaze softened, a flicker of remorse flashing in his eyes. "Not exactly," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "She was your best friend, and she hurt Quinn's feelings."

Y/N couldn't help but scoff, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Mhmm."

Jack leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he fixed her with an imploring look. "I know you're mad at me. Just let me fix this, let me talk to you. I know I don't deserve that tonight, and maybe I shouldn't be here either, but..."

Y/N held up a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. A wicked idea had taken root in her mind, a way to make Jack squirm, to make him feel even a fraction of the hurt and confusion she had been grappling with.

She leaned back in her seat, a devious smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "No, you should stay," she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

Jack blinked, clearly taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor. "Really?"

Y/N nodded, picking up her glass and taking a long, deliberate sip. She could feel the eyes of the rest of the group on her, could sense their confusion and anticipation. But she paid them no mind, her focus solely on Jack. She stood up from the table, her movements slow and sinuous, her hips swaying with every step.

"Enjoy your night, Jack," she said, her voice a husky whisper. "I know I will."

With that, she turned on her heel and sauntered away, leaving a stunned Jack in her wake. She could feel his eyes boring into her back, could sense the weight of his gaze on her every curve and sway.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her waist, a strong grip steadying her as she stumbled. She looked up, her eyes meeting a pair of deep brown ones, a mischievous glint sparkling in their depths. "Careful there, gorgeous," the stranger said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "Wouldn't want you to fall for anyone else tonight."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "You look like fun," she said, her fingers curling around the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer.

The stranger grinned, his hands tightening on her waist as he allowed her to pull him into the center of the dance floor. The crowd parted around them, the sea of bodies closing in once more as they found their rhythm.

From his spot at the table, Jack watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, his jaw clenched tight. He saw the way the stranger's hands lingered on Y/N's curves, the way he leaned in close to whisper in her ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her neck.

It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to march over there and tear the guy away from her, to finish the conversation they had started earlier. But Marinos hand on his shoulder held him back, a silent reminder that he had lost the right to interfere in Y/N's life.

Still, he couldn't tear his gaze away, couldn't ignore the jealousy burning in his gut as he watched Y/N dance with the stranger. Her hips swayed to the beat, her arms raised above her head as she lost herself in the music. The stranger's hands roamed her body, sliding down to cup her ass, pulling her flush against him.

Y/N didn't seem to mind, a coy smile playing at her lips as she ground her hips against his. She ran her fingers through the stranger's hair, tugging lightly at the strands as she leaned in close, her lips brushing the shell of his ear.

Jack's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms hard enough to leave marks. He knew he had no right to be angry, no right to feel possessive over a woman he had hurt so deeply.

But seeing her with someone else, watching her give herself over to the heat and the passion of the moment, it was a special kind of torture, a punishment he knew he deserved. He forced himself to look away, to focus on the conversation happening around him. But his mind was miles away, lost in memories of the way Y/N's body had once moved against his own, the way her lips had tasted, the sound of her laughter in his ear.

He had taken it all for granted, had thrown it away for a fleeting moment of temptation. And now, watching her dance with a stranger, watching her come alive in a way he hadn't seen in weeks, he knew that he would do anything to win her back.

Even if it meant swallowing his pride and admitting the truth.

Jack sat at the table, his eyes glued to Y/N and the stranger on the dance floor. He couldn't help but scoff as he watched the guy's hands roam over her body, his lips curled in a sneer. "Who does this guy think he is?" he muttered, taking a swig of his beer. "He's all over her like some kind of octopus."

Nico leaned in, squinting at the dance floor. "Wait a minute," he said, his eyes widening in recognition. "Isn't that Matt Rempe? From the Rangers?"

Jack's head snapped up, his gaze zeroing in on the stranger's face. Sure enough, it was none other than his longtime rival, the star player of the Rangers hockey team.

A surge of anger coursed through his veins, his grip tightening on his beer bottle. The Jersey Devils and the Rangers had been at each other's throats for years, their rivalry the stuff of legend. And now, seeing Matt Rempe with his hands all over Y/N, it was like a slap in the face, a personal insult he couldn't ignore.

Jack stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. His eyes scanned the club, searching for something, anything to take his mind off the sight of Y/N in Matt's arms.

And then he saw her.

A girl, standing at the edge of the dance floor, her hair the same rich shade as Y/N's, her body curved in all the right places. She was a dead ringer for the woman he liked, a doppelganger in every sense of the word.

Without a second thought, Jack made his way over to her, his strides purposeful and determined. He tapped her on the shoulder, flashing his most charming smile when she turned around. "Hey there," he said, his voice low and inviting. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. wanna dance?"

The girl's eyes widened, a flattered smile spreading across her face. "I'd love to," she said, taking his hand and allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor. Jack pulled her close, his hands settling on her hips as they began to move to the music. He made sure to position them in Y/N's line of sight, his eyes locking with hers over the girl's shoulder.

Y/N was still dancing with Matt, her back pressed against his chest, his hands splayed across her stomach. But her gaze was fixed on Jack, her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Jack smirked, leaning down to whisper something in the girl's ear. She giggled, her head falling back against his shoulder, her body melting into his. He could feel Y/N's stare boring into him, could sense the anger and jealousy radiating off her in waves. And he reveled in it, a twisted sense of satisfaction unfurling in his chest.

Two could play at this game.

He spun the girl around, dipping her low, his hand splayed across the small of her back. She gasped, her arms winding around his neck, her body arching into his. Y/N couldn't take it anymore. The sight of Jack with that girl, his hands all over her, his eyes locked on Y/N's with a cruel, taunting gleam, it was too much to bear. She mumbled a quick excuse to Matt, pulling away from his embrace and making a beeline for the exit.

She burst through the doors, the cool night air hitting her flushed skin like a balm. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside her.

Behind her, she heard the sound of footsteps, and she spun around to see Jack rushing out after her. He had a panicked look on his face, as if he had just realized the gravity of what he had done.

"Y/N, wait," he called out, his voice desperate.

Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Explain what, Jack? How you were just using that poor girl to get back at me? How you couldn't stand to see me happy, even for a moment?"

Jack ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the strands in frustration. His shoulders were tense, hunched up to his ears as if he were bracing himself for a blow. "That's not what I was doing," he argued, his voice strained with the effort of keeping his emotions in check.

"I was just..." He trailed off, his eyes searching Y/N's face, pleading for understanding. "I saw you with Matt, and I couldn't stand it. It was like something inside me snapped. I lost control."

He took a step closer, his hands twitching at his sides as if he were fighting the urge to reach out and touch her. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Y/N. I swear, that was never my intention. I just..." He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I miss you. I miss us. And seeing you with him, seeing you in his arms, laughing at his jokes... it made me crazy. It made me feel like I was losing you all over again."

Y/N sighed, the anger that had been burning in her chest sputtering out like a candle flame deprived of oxygen. "I miss you too, Jack," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "More than I ever thought possible."

Jack hung his head, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his shame were physically pressing down on him. "I know," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "And I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so damn sorry. I never meant for things to get this twisted, this messed up. I never meant to hurt you like this."

Y/N took a step forward, closing the distance between them until she could feel the heat of his body radiating against her skin. Slowly, tentatively, she reached up and cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing over the stubble that shadowed his jaw. "I know you didn't," she said softly, her eyes searching his.

Jack leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed as if he were savoring the feel of her skin against his. "I want to be with you, Y/N," he said, his voice low and fervent. "I want to make things right between us. I want to prove to you that I can be the man you deserve, the man you need me to be."

Y/N's heart clenched in her chest, a lump rising in her throat at the raw honesty in his words. She knew that he meant it, that he truly wanted to make things work between them. But she also knew that it wouldn't be easy, that they had a long road ahead of them if they wanted to rebuild what they had lost.

Still, looking into his eyes, seeing the love and the longing that shone there, she knew that she was willing to try. Because a life without Jack, a life without his laughter and his infuriating stubbornness... that wasn't a life she wanted to live.

"I want that too, Jack,” she whispered, her lips curving into a small, hopeful smile.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, they stood there, lost in each other's eyes, the rest of the world falling away. But the spell was broken by the sound of sarcastic laughter, and they turned to see Matt and his friends sauntering out of the club.

"Well, well, well," Matt sneered, his lips curling into a cruel smirk as his eyes raked over Y/N's form, lingering on her curves with a lecherous gleam. "If it isn't the Jersey Devil's sloppy seconds."

Jack's entire body tensed, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as a wave of rage crashed over him. "Watch your fucking mouth, Rempe," he yelled back.

Matt scoffed, his friends snickering behind him. "Please. She was grinding on me like a bitch in heat back there. Face it, Jack, your girl's nothing but a filthy little tease." Y/N's cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment, her eyes narrowing to slits. "Shut up, Matt. You don't know what you're talking about."

Matt took a step forward, his towering frame looming over Y/N in a blatant attempt at intimidation. "I know a slut when I see one, sweetheart,” he leered, his eyes traveling the length of her body with a nauseating hunger. "And sweetheart, you've got 'fuck me' written all over you."

That was the final straw.

Jack lunged forward, his fist connecting with Matt's jaw with a sickening crack. Matt stumbled back, his hand flying to his face, his eyes wide with shock. Matt was quick to recover, charging at Jack with a primal snarl, his own fists flying with brutal precision.

His friends joined in, their fists flying as they tried to defend their teammate.

Y/N watched in horror as the fight escalated, Jack and Matt trading blows, their bodies slamming into the walls of the alleyway. She turned to run back inside, to get help, but she was stopped by the sight of Nico, Marino, and Dawson rushing out of the club, their faces contorted with anger.

They threw themselves into the fray, their fists flying as they tried to defend their friend. Y/N watched helplessly as the fight turned into an all-out brawl, bodies slamming into each other, blood splattering the pavement.

She knew she should do something, should try to break it up, but she was frozen in place, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind reeling with the shock of it all. How had things escalated so quickly? How had a night of fun and flirtation turned into a brutal street fight?

She didn't know. All she knew was that she needed to get Jack out of there, needed to get him somewhere safe.

Heather and Angie burst through the club doors, their eyes widening at the chaotic scene before them. Without hesitation, they threw themselves into the fray, their high heels and manicured nails proving to be surprisingly effective weapons.

Heather grabbed one of the Rangers by the collar, yanking him off of Marino with a snarl. "Get your hands off him, you creep, he’s too small!" she yelled, her knee slamming into his groin with a satisfying crunch.

The Ranger howled in pain, doubling over and stumbling away, his hands cupping his injured pride. Heather dusted off her hands with a smirk, turning to help Angie, who was currently grappling with another one of Matt's cronies.

Y/N, meanwhile, had finally snapped out of her daze, her eyes locking onto Jack's form in the center of the melee. He was holding his own, his fists flying as he traded blows with Matt, but she could see the blood streaming from his nose, the bruises blooming on his cheekbones.

Without a second thought, she lunged forward, shoving her way through the crowd of brawling men. She reached Jack just as he landed a particularly vicious punch to Matt's ribs, sending the Ranger stumbling back with a grunt of pain.

"Jack!" she cried out, her hands reaching for him, desperate to pull him away from the fight. Jack turned to her, his eyes wild with adrenaline and rage. But as he took in the concern on her face, the fear in her eyes, his expression softened, the fight draining out of him.

"Y/N," he murmured, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, heedless of the blood staining his knuckles.

"Enough!" Heather barked, her voice ringing with authority. "Break it up, now, or I'm calling the cops." For a moment, no one moved, the tension crackling in the air like a live wire. But then, slowly, reluctantly, the Rangers began to disengage, their faces twisted with resentment and barely suppressed rage.

Matt was the last to back down, his chest heaving with exertion as he glared at Jack with pure, unadulterated hatred. "See you at the next game Jack," he snarled, his split lip dripping with blood.

But Jack just smiled, the gesture cold and humorless. "I'll be waiting." he said, his voice calm.

...

@clairezegras @rebelatbay @ivy-34

#fluff #angst #masterlist #new writers on tumblr #new fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fanfiction #john marino #luke hughes #njd #nj devils #curtis lazar #lh43 #quinn hughes #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes blurb #y/n #x reader #reader insert #x y/n #jack hughes series

[missjaystone]

Promotion

Summary: Chef Julian Slowik sets his sights on making you something more than his next sous chef. Pairing: Julian Slowik x Reader Word Count: 1,710

Kink Prompt: Power Play | Dom/Sub Warnings: Slight dubcon/coercion, power imbalance, dom/sub tones, hints of (and obvious) sexual harassment.

A/N: I wrote this for me. I am the one who wants to get fucked by Ralph Fiennes's character in The Menu. I am my own target audience.

Standing tall and silent to the side, Chef Julian's all-seeing eyes burned holes into the back of your head. He watched every move you made like a hawk. He made his way around the kitchen slowly, making sure everyone was doing exactly what they were supposed to. You were leaning over the counter with tweezers to place the garnishes around the plate before you when you felt his presence behind you. "Good steady hand." Julian compliments coolly. "Thank you, chef." You respond without stopping or taking your eyes off the dish in front of you. It's a miracle you didn't jump when he put a hand on your hip. His hand stayed on your hip as you put the tiniest pieces of the dish into place, even going so far as to step up until he was pressing himself against you, making sure you felt his erection. A shiver ran up your spine as he leaned over you, further pressing his hardness into your backside. You didn't object at all at the contact, you'd seen what happened to the people who rejected Chef Slowik and you were determined to not end up like them. "When dinner finishes and I dismiss the others, stay in the kitchen." He orders. "Yes, chef." You say with a slight tremble in your voice. All the other chefs were too busy focusing on perfecting their own plates to pay any mind to the suggestive position Julian put you both in.

Dinner proceeded as usual, without further contact from Julian. Once everyone was fed and sent away, the rest of the staff began returning the kitchen to its spotless state, wrapping up at 2:30 in the morning. "Everyone can leave. Get some rest before tomorrow." Julian dismisses before turning his gaze to you. "Except you." Now that nobody was busy, you felt everyone's eyes on you as they filed out of the kitchen, leaving only you and Chef Slowik in the pristine kitchen. "How long have you been cooking?" He asks you. "Since I was a child, chef." You answer. "It was my duty as the oldest to take care of my siblings when my parents couldn't or wouldn't." "Do you enjoy it?" He questions. "Immensely, chef. What started as my duty became my passion. I can't do anything besides cook." You answer calmly. "That's not entirely true. You can follow orders better than the others. You can present better than them, you can work harder than them. I believe you are better than them." Julian states. "How would you like to be my new sous?" He offers. It's a miracle you manage to keep your jaw off the floor when you answer him. "That would be the opportunity of a lifetime, Chef. I'd be honored."

"I expect more from my sous than the other chefs, you know." He warns. "I expect my sous to follow my orders to a T, to go the extra mile to make sure Hawthorne runs smoothly, to do as I say without questioning or arguing with me. Do you think you can do that?" He asks, stepping up to tower over you. "Yes, Chef." You say with a nod. "Then get on your knees." His voice was atonal, devoid of any emotion, almost to the point of being robotic. He said it like it was any other order in the kitchen. There's only a split second of hesitation before you sink to your knees before him. "Do you know what I want from you?" Julian asks, tilting your chin up to meet his dark blue eyes. "You want me to prove I'll do whatever you ask of me, regardless of what it is, Chef." You answer. "Smart girl." Julian hums in approval, running his thumb along your bottom lip in a silent quest for access. Your lips parted just enough to take his thumb into your mouth before wrapping your lips around it. He watches intently as you suck on the digit, only to abruptly pull it out after a few moments. He kept a close eye on your hands as they undid his belt and zipper, fishing his rock-hard cock out without so much as a single tremble.

Julian's breathing catches slightly in his throat when you lean forward and take the head of his member into your mouth, moving slowly just like you had with his thumb before he took it away. With a steady grip on his base, you began slowly bobbing your head, taking him into your mouth little by little. His eyes fluttered shut with each. A small groan escaped Julian's lips when he felt his head hit the back of your throat. "You can do it." He hums when you gag around him, and the way he says it makes it sound like more of a general statement, a fact even, and less of an encouragement. When you didn't move fast enough for his liking, he frowned. "You will do it or you won't be in my kitchen much longer." He said more firmly. You give a slight nod and take a deep breath through your nose before taking his length into your throat. You bobbed your head and relaxed your throat, taking in more of him with each bob of your head until your nose touched his pubic bone and you gagged. Julian let out quiet noises as you worked, bobbing your head along his length with garbled noises, letting your tongue trace the vein on the underside of his cock. This continued for a few minutes before he tangled his fingers in your hair tightly and pulled you off of him.

Lust entirely darkened his eyes when he tilted your head up to look at him. "Get up and bend over the counter." He says in the same voice he'd used to send you to your knees. You wordlessly scramble to your feet and turn around, but he stops you from bending over. "Undress first." You don't trust your voice to speak for you, so you just give a nod and strip down to your underwear. A small, genuine smile crossed his features as he watched you. "Perfect." He mutters. He easily maneuvers your pliant body until you're bent over the counter. "You'll be a good sous... but an even better partner," Julian says as he runs his hand down the curve of your spine until he reaches your ass. "P-Partner?" You question, your voice faltering when he pulls your underwear down until the flimsy fabric falls slack and drops to your ankles. "That's right." He nods, stepping up behind you and teasingly running the head of his member through your wet petals.

"Do you want to know why I've picked you specifically?" Julian asks, dragging his tip through your folds until it catches on your entrance. "Why-" Your question is cut off when he leans over you, slowly pushing his member into your waiting opening. "Because you're obedient and eager to please," Julian whispers, kissing the shell of your ear softly. "I picked you because you are submissive." He states as he bottoms out. "You crave having orders to follow, being told what to do, and I'm going to be the one to give that to you." He husks as he slowly begins to thrust his hips. He talks over your moans. "You aren't just like the others, you're more special than them, more talented, more intelligent, more devout. You are better than them." He says as he thrusts into you. You gripped the edge of the counter as his thrusts quickly went from slow and easy to fast and almost punishing, each one forcing a moan out of your throat. Julian tangles his fingers in your hair and turns your head to the side enough to press his lips to yours in a heated, commanding kiss, biting your bottom lip slightly. That hand stayed tangled in your hair, holding your lips to his while the other left your ass to give your clit some rough attention. He angles his hips some until he finds your G-spot, reveling in the louder moan you let out.

"J-Julian..." You stammer breathlessly between your moans. "Not yet." He hisses as he bucks his hips into you, furiously chasing his release. The edge of the counter was beginning to painfully dig into your hips with each rough snap of his hips. The closer you get to your impending orgasm, the more your vision blurs and fills with stars. The combination of Julian's thrusts, his attention to your sensitive clit, and the way he tugged your hair was quickly bringing you closer to the edge you were determined not to fall off of just yet. Every movement of his was hellbent on seeing if you could follow his order. "See? You crave not disappointing me." He whispers smugly in your ear as he nears his climax. "Go on, pet, let go and come for me." Julian orders. It sends a chill through your body as you cave beneath him, letting go and moaning out his name as white-hot bliss overtakes every fiber of your being. Julian falls over the edge right on the tail end of your orgasm, letting out an almost primal-sounding moan as he buries himself to the hilt before filling you with his release.

His grip on you loosens when your orgasms subside. You shudder some at the feeling of his spend dripping down your thighs. Julian smirks at the reaction while tucking himself back into his pants. He grabs one of the nearby dish towels and almost gently cleans up the mess between your legs. "Tomorrow, you can move your things into my home." He states. "Y-Yes, Chef." You mumble with a nod. Julian cups your cheeks and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before planting another to your lips. "You will be phenomenal as my sous, as my partner, and as other things to come." He says with a smile. "Thank you, Chef Slowik." You say almost numbly as your mind processes everything that just happened. "Please, you can call me Julian when it's just us," He says jovially. "Thank you, Julian." You correct yourself. "Anything for you, my dear," Julian says with a smile, pressing another kiss to your lips.

I also wrote this for @bdffkierenwalker because she has been an amazing friend and always encourages me to write things that I want to write.

#The Menu #Julian Slowik #Chef Julian Slowik #Chef Slowik #Julian Slowik x Reader #Chef Slowik x Reader #Julian Slowik Smut #Chef Slowik Smut #The Menu Smut #Ralph Fiennes #Kinktober

[everydayyoulovemeless]

fallout 4 companions react to a sole who's mute due to an injury that mangled their vocal cords or something like that? bonus points if sole isn't really all that affected by it anymore since it happened before the war and all that! thanks!

Fo4 Companions With a Mute!Sole

➼ Word Count » 1.7k ➼ Warnings » Abelism? Maybe? ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic

MacCready finds you a tad unnerving when he first meets you, but you're quiet, which makes it easier for him to snipe. Less noise and whatnot, so he finds it hard to complain about you sticking around. After a couple of months go by, he'll slowly feel himself get more and more attached to you. You're not so much a client to him anymore, and he finds your presence to be comforting at the best of times. Because of this, he'll be more receptive to you when you're trying to communicate with him. He'll pay closer attention to your motions or make it more of a priority to read the notes you pass him. Sometimes, he even stops talking midway through a conversation with a shopkeeper just to see what you want to say. MacCready also can't help but find the expressions you make to be funny, especially when there's no noise to accompany them.

Nick can't help but chuckle anytime he lets out a sarcastic quip, and you just have to stare at him and nod. He didn't have any idea about how he was supposed to go about talking to you when you were both first introduced. In fact, for the first time in years, Nick found himself feeling a tad awkward. However, he's not one to give up on another for something so trivial and just started carrying his detective notebook with him more often. He'll pass it to you whenever he's curious about your thoughts, or if you tug at his sleeve a bit, he'll hand it right over. He noticed the slight scarring around your throat when you first met but never felt it was his place to ask. There are moments when he feels like he's just talking into a void, but doesn't everyone feel that way when traversing the wasteland on their own? One gets used to it after a while, and you're company is better than most others.

Cait didn't like you when you two first met. A part of her felt the need to be skeptical about you not being able to talk. How have you made it this far without speaking anyhow? It's an almost necessary skill, especially since many in the Commonwealth can't read, and that aspect makes her feel on edge when she's around you. You've either got to be one hell of a killer or know a few names to have made it as far as you did, and she doesn't like that one bit. After a while of traveling with you, however, she'll start to get more and more used to the silence. She'll talk about previous encounters she's had with people if she feels the need to say something, and is overall just happy to have someone who listens and isn't obnoxiously in her ear all the time. The only problem would be her muscling her way through most obstacles since the two of you aren't going to be very successful when it comes to talking things out. But if you don't mind a few altercations, then she'll have no issue hanging around you.

Danse has met a few people who couldn't speak in his lifetime, and you're no different. He knows how to sign a few words and has experience of what would and wouldn't be helpful to someone who's mute on the battlefield, so he's one of the more well-equipped characters in terms of knowing what to do. He can communicate effectively with you and would even ask if you wanted to have your vocal cords checked out by any of the scribes to see if there's anything that can be done in terms of soothing them or even possibly fixing them. At the end of the day, he treats you just the same as any other soldier under his sponsorship.

Preston's picked up a bit of sign language throughout his time with the Minutemen and can understand what you're saying fairly easily. Otherwise, he's not as good at interpreting the sporadic gestures you make. Early on, he'll make it a habit to glance in your direction as frequently as he can manage, just in case you're trying to get his attention or need to tell him something. That being said, being mute doesn't diminish or take away from your combat abilities, and he'd recognize that fact early on. This means you're not getting out of settlement quests, but he does have the decency to at least assign someone else to go with you so you can better communicate with the settlers. Not a lot changes with him. He'll still be the same firm and kind man he is, whether you can speak or not.

Codsworth is just as good as before the war with interpreting your body language and the slight signals you provide him with. His initial programming has allowed him to be more aware of the subtle shifts in attitude and be able to translate what you're signing to him. By far the most accommodating to your condition and the most receptible to it. He treats it as normal because, for him, it is. He doesn't need you to be verbal for him to be a renowned and approachable member of your family.

Piper just has you write everything down for her. She's got the paper and pens with her, so why not? It makes everything easier for both of you. She'll gain a liking to you as soon as she realizes you're mute. Something about your condition makes her even more determined to get your voice and experience out there to the public. Whatever it is you want to say, she is all ears. Always. No one should be able to stand in the way of speaking your truth, not even a medical condition, and she will sit there and copy every word you write down onto the papers if that's something you want to happen. She is more than happy to be your voice and, by the end of it, she'll make sure you have an audience.

Medically speaking, Curie understands you the best. She's so kind and gentle towards you and will even make you drinks that'll help soothe your throat if it ever becomes inflamed or will attempt to ground medications that you formally took before the bombs. Every now and again, she'll ask to interview you. Nothing too invasive, it's just to see where the pain levels are at for that week and how she can better help you manage it. Your comfort is her top priority, and she's happy to be given something new to research and look into, even if it's not something you're terribly bothered by.

When Strong meets you for the first time, he just assumes you're broken and refuses to follow you. He needs a strong, vocal leader, not whatever you are.

Hancock thinks you're a hoot. He's got no idea what you're trying to say half the time, but you've gotta be one of the most interesting people he's ever met. Whenever you pass him a note, he'll act like it's this top-secret document and refuse to let anyone else read it. Other times, he makes it seem like you wrote something outrageous until you get fed up and have to hit him to quiet him down. Hancock can't help but love everything about you. You're not only perfect for Goodneighbor, but you're resilient, and he can't help but admire you for it. It might sound ignorant, but he never imagined that he'd ever meet a mute person. And to him, it's a sign that the world is slowly becoming a whole lot safer, and that thought never fails to put a stupid grin on his face.

Deacon can't help but poke fun at it at times. It's never meant out of malicious intent, but more so him being him. Besides, what's the point of living if you can't joke about your misfortunes from time to time? One of his favorite things to say is that "he's got a guy for everything except mending vocal cords" or "at least we know you won't be sharing any of the railroads' secrets". Despite all the teasing that gets thrown your way, Deacon is great at depicting body language and can communicate with you easily. Better yet, he just so happens to be amazing at talking, so the two of you balance each other out nicely. You're in great hands with him and he's got endless jokes he wants to say.

X6-88 revels in the silence. He prefers traveling with someone quieter; you're the best case he could've ever hoped for. That being said, he wants this relationship to last and is willing to do a lot to keep you alive and happy. Someone's bothering you? Let him handle it. Your throats feeling irritated? He'll teleport you back to the Institute to have it inspected. There is nothing this man isn't prepared to do for you, both out of loyalty and genuine care. Even though he might be against you going out into the Commonwealth, he rather be the one to go with you rather than have you travel with one of those dirty commoners he sees you around. He's both accommodating and ready to help. There's not much more you could ask for with him.

Dogmeat gets a bit confused when you just point instead of giving him a command, but he'll slowly start to pick up what you're intentions are (he mostly guesses, but oh well).

Old Longfellow doesn't mind. He prefers silence anyway. He'll even offer you a few bottles here and there because he claims it "helps with sore... or somethin'". He swears Teddy told him, but you better double-check to really be sure there's a medical standpoint to back it up. Nothing changes with him besides him playing into the 'fatherly role' a bit more. He can't help but feel obligated for your survival when you come and find him for the first time.

Gage initially got really annoyed that you wouldn't respond back to him through the intercoms and assumed you had just kicked the bucket before your fight with Colter, and he was still a bit annoyed when you beat him and had to rely on you to take over the park. Gage is a big believer in natural selection, and you should've been taken out ages ago. A disabled person surviving in the wasteland? The notion is comical, but as long as you continue doing what he needs you to get done, he'll keep his mouth shut and (reluctantly) follow your lead.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fo4 maccready #rj maccready #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 reactions #nick valentine #fo4 nick #fo4 cait #paladin danse #fo4 danse #preston garvey #fo4 preston #codsworth #fo4 codsworth #piper wright #fo4 piper #fo4 curie #fo4 strong #porter gage #fo4 gage #fo4 old longfellow #old longfellow #dogmeat #fo4 dogmeat #john hancock #fo4 hancock #deacon #fo4 deacon

[yandere--stuck]

Can you do hc of my my gilr fail d'arce too?

🧡 The Knight is more than happy to meet a friendly face down in the dungeons, grateful when you ask to accompany her. Two heads are better than one, no? And, though she couldn't bring herself to admit it, she felt a lot less wary with a companion by her side. As you began to get acquainted with one another, D'arce noticed a certain… Magentism about you. Her eyes constantly tracing over your features in awe. How easily she opened up to you as you did with her, as if disarming her. When you sympathized and reassured her, she felt calm and safe. Like everything was going to be okay. And when you talked about your life and what brought you down into the dungeons, D'arce found herself trying to memorize it. As if it were important. As if you were important. She could feel it. Almost… Divine, even.

⚔️ D'arce is such a worshiper yandere. She's delusional in the sense that she will actually come to believe you're actually a god in human form. It takes time for her to descend into that delusion, though, and she'll be torn between her faith in you and her faith in her captain. She may even be aware of and resist her delusions… For a time. She keeps trying to rationalize her way out of her thinking, but it works less and less the more her obsession deepens. D'arce will come to credit you for any luck or gold fortune that comes your way. She sees you as something precious and far above her, someone needing protection and reverence.

🧡 D'arce, as a bearer of the soul of the dominant, is used to taking charge and dishing out orders. In the merry band of allies you've collected, she's assumed the role of captain naturally. However, she will almost always defer to you and your strategies unless absolutely necessary. She wants to be an extension of you and your will. The sword between your fists. The neck that turns the head.

⚔️ If Le'garde is found alive, her reaction is a lot milder. It feels like ages since she'd last seen her captor. Since she'd heard the Outlander's gruesome tale of the slaughtering of his people, one she had supported unknowingly, one that Le'garde had painted as noble and necessary. He barely speaks to her, barely makes eye contact with her. There is no thanks. No smile. Just an empty head with no memories of her or his capture or the ransacking of Oldegard. The only reason Ragnvaldr holds himself back. A part of her, deep down, hopes he's telling the truth. But that's just to hold back the weight of realizing he's lied to her. He's always lied to her. At least she can stay by you for comfort…

🧡 The only reason she'd give in to Le'garde's insistence to delve deeper is some dwindling sense of duty from the last shreds of respect she had for her former captain. If something were to happen to the man, well, no loss. D'arce had found someone better. You. Someone who actually respected her. Listened to her. Knew her. How sad was that? A man she thought she loved for years was more of a stranger than someone she just met. That is, she thinks you had just. But, with how you clicked together so perfectly, it was almost as though you'd known each other lifetimes. Maybe even meant to meet. And if Le'garde has to die for you to live, D'arce will enthusiastically sacrifice him in your name.

⚔️ Maybe even kill him herself or allow Ragnvaldr to, if he makes it all the way to the Throne. He's lied to her. Betrayed her. Used her. Forced innocents down further in the depths of Hell… In a fit of mania, she might try to place you on the throne herself. And if anything happened to you… Gods, she was nothing without you. But, she has learned blood magic from Enki. She could bring you back. But, that wouldn't happen, no. D'arce wouldn't let it. Sue needed you. You were inseparable now. And when you got out here, she'd worship you as you should be. Spread your word. And live happily ever after. Even if you might not see it her way, at first.

#yandere x reader #yandere fear & hunger #yandere fear and hunger #fear & hunger x reader #fear and hunger x reader #yandere d'arce cataliss #yandere d'arce #d'arce cataliss x reader #d'arce x reader #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere #x reader

[soulntes]

THREE : THREESOME <3

ROMANCING PANDORA EVENT

TSU'TEY X OC X SO'LEK

many na'vi have experienced their chance of a lifetime in bonding and mating with their partner they've had set their eyes on. getting to know them on a spiritual and and friendship level to remember their likings and passion to gain a smile and slight touch of their hand on theirs.

to experience the life of youth with love and happiness alongside your mate.

for so'lek, it was different.

a young, well respected warrior's life changed drastically when he lost his entire clan. ever since he didn't want to seek out a potential na'vi for his liking because he swore revenge on his people.

after planning to live alone in the wilderness, one na'vi decided to persuade him to stay. not a na'vi, a dream walker who eywa has chosen to live in her na'vi body.

selena. jake sully's sister.

he highly respects jake but not knowing he had a relative made it more difficult.

the second his eyes laid on her, his heart stopped then it accelerated from her friendly smile and wanted to talk with him. the way she moves differently than other na'vi women, her strong presence before him had his knees buckled, her overwhelming scent filling his nose. the hair style and wardrobe she put on fits her right in with the rest of the na'vi. her slender but built figure is so alluring.

she made him weak. she was the first to have him experience these new things. the first na'vi who gave him an experience.

selena caught him off guard when she hugged him all of a sudden that his tail wagged and his body tensed, "i'm sorry for what happened with your clan. if there's anything you need you can ask jake or you can stay here with the omatikaya. the other clans have decided to stay."

so'lek couldn't speak but he had to so he wouldn't weird her out, "i am alright. i don't need to merge with your clan. i am planning for revenge against the sky people if they return. i must take my leave." he felt guilty and stupid for passing up an opportunity to know more about her.

she nods with a sad expression, "of course. i understand. what's your name?"

his ears perked at the mention of knowing his name, "so'lek."

she smiled more and held his hands, "that's a nice name, so'lek. i hope to see you some day." with a kiss on his cheek, she left him alone with his thoughts as he touched his cheek where she put her lips on. he began to fluster madly at the affection.

the na'vi warrior brushed it off, gathering his things and left to venture off alone into the forest.

that was years ago when he felt a void in his heart and a vacant soul ever since. knowing he'd regret coming back and decide to follow his heart when he found a tree of voices, he returned to find the hidden clan.

many clues and traces passed when he saw a couple of hunters hunting the area and flew up the hallelujah mountains.

upon arriving at the hidden spot of the omatikaya, he was surrounded by them with arrows and guns pointing at him for questioning. he wanted to explain when selena came into view with her brother.

so'lek pointed towards her, "you know me. remember."

selena's ears perked when she heard his voice and stood in front of him with a smile, "i'd known you'd come back, so'lek."

there it was again. that same feeling. his heart began to thumping rapidly and his palms started to sweat. "yes i guess i came for you."

his answer shocked her but she continued to smile, grabbing his hand to pull him somewhere, "i'll show you around."

he didn't know where they were going but he knew by the new scent of hers, she wasn't alone. she was mated with another.

by the time he stayed with the omatikaya, he learned she mated with the infamous and brave warrior that survived a big fall and bullets to his body.

no matter that she was mated and bonded with another, he still desired her and wished to taste her and tsu'tey noticed this.

tsu'tey knows the lust and smell of hormones reeking of this young male na'vi wanting his tanhi. he wants to show this stranger that this woman was his alone but he saw how his mate expressed herself with the young male.

selena talks about him whenever she gets the chance and she was starting to smell like him from showing him around.

his mind went to imagining the possibilities of seeing her get her pussy rammed by another man's cock while looking at him, begging him to put his in. kissing her lips while he fucks her pussy and so'lek wanting to do the same but he can't, her lips are his. rubbing her clit hard while the male fucks her hole just to see her squirt and sucks on her nipple.

tsu'tey decided to bring up the topic of bringing in another person into their relationship and she was surprised since he's hostile and possessive when it came to his mate.

in the end, they agreed to have so'lek in their relationship in a poly and selena couldn't wait.

this is where they are now.

so'lek was sitting with selena sitting on his cock reverse cowgirl with his hands on her thighs, spreading them wide for tsu'tey to admire. tsu'tey went down to put his mouth on her clit to suck on while so'lek fucked her relentlessly because of good she felt when she clenched on him.

"so'lek....oh so'lek!" selena moaned with her tail wagging and found his tail to wrap around it while she turned his head to kiss him tenderly but passionately. the young male grunted against her lips and sucked on her tongue as he thrusted desperately into her pussy. tsu'tey was getting a little jealous of their intimate moments so he went to put her nipple in his mouth and swirls his tongue around the bud as he rubs her clit slowly and harshly to edge her.

selena whimpers against so'lek's lips feeling tsu'tey's rough tongue on her bud giving her the pleasure of recovering this kind of treatment from both males.

"ma tanhi, you are not paying attention to me." tsu'tey says in an annoyed tone but selena reassures him with caressing his ears and hair.

she separates her lips from him and kisses him and uses her hand to jerk him off and guide his cock to her pussy. she wants both of them.

"ma tsu'tey....don't be jealous. i love both of you. put it in, yawne." she says in between breaths and gasps from the tip of tsu'tey's cock rubbing her clit. tsu'tey slightly pushes his cock in and hisses at the pressure added with pleasure when it's inside with another. so'lek whimpers, continuing to push his deeper and faster so desperate to cum from her pussy alone.

so'lek thought this was impossible but now, it is not. he doesn't want to push it when they've barely begun as a poly relationship. either way he wants to take the leap.

so'lek grabs his queue and shows it to selena and tsu'tey to indicate what he wants. with his other hand around her waist and his lips nibbling her ear, "please....bond with me....i want to feel it."

selena didn't think twice, grabbing tsu'tey's and her braid, showing their tendrils to connect with so'lek's. tsu'tey didn't mind, he was going to share with the other male and willing to accept him as a mate as long they got along.

all three of them connect with each other and a surge of love and passion connects them spiritually as they drown in their love. both males thrust into their mate and take turns in kissing each other. so'lek felt happy and at ease at finally not having one but two mates who will cherish him. he's not alone now.

all three of them came together and lovingly nibbled, kissed, and embraced each other with the warmth of their bodies with their queues still connected.

NOTE : i think i want to make a so'lek fic with tsu'tey after this came to mind 👀

TAGS

@eywaite

#romancingpandora2024 #tsu'tey x oc #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan #tsu'tey smut #tsu'tey avatar #solek frontiers of pandora #so'lek #so'lek smut #so'lek x oc #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #blog post #navi oc #avatar #avatar frontiers of pandora #na'vi oc #na'vi avatar #valentines day

[banes-favourite]

Do you think Gortash struggled with intimacy and affection at all because of his parents' abandonment? Like Durge's admiration of him, I wonder if he ever struggled to let them in, or conversely maybe got clingy/possessive.

Honestly I think it was a heavy mix of both. Gortash just objectively never experienced safety and tenderness. He never learned to be vulnerable. If anything, I think he taught himself to spot vulnerability in others and see it as a weakness he can easily manipulate. After HoH, he never had relationships that went much deeper than the surface. He could trust himself and his God, everyone else was either a sheep or an obstacle.

Until Durge, of course. Their situations were so similar but unique, to the point he found a person he could actually relate to. Someone who could match his wits and his brutality. Someone he could call an equal.

I bet it took so much time to get there though. He was used to the being alone, fending for himself and not giving half a shit about everyone else. He physically couldn't open up to Durge, even if they reached a point where he wanted to.

I think his first spot of vulnerability was the first time they were drinking together. Being drunk was the only way he could bring himself to speak honestly and drop the mask he wears all the time. It hurt, but the reward was so much better, as Durge in turn opened up to him. And his first thought wasn't even how to use that information against them; no, he felt real emotions. Maybe pity. Maybe empathy. Maybe that was the first time he held someone's hand without an ulterior motive. Kissed someone without going after something of theirs.

But my god, once it happened, it all clicked for him. Suddenly he feels this intense need to keep Durge close, to keep them safe, to protect them. He didn't want to lose them. Not like he's lost so many things. Perhaps he thought this was his gift for following Bane so closely. His holy partner, made just right to fit him. And by god, he'd do everything in his power to keep that feeling of trust and vulnerability because he's never felt this way before and he was NOT going to fucking waste it.

He gets jealous so easily, suddenly he wants to involve himself in Bhaal's temple to see what his dearest is up to and whether he approves or not, he wants to be touching Durge always, make sure they're there, just for him. He wants and needs to know everything about them, at all times. It's a borderline obsession, but wouldn't you be obsessed with the first person that made you feel safe and happy after a lifetime of misery and lies?

Anyway you can imagine just how devastated he was when Durge left inexplicably. He felt betrayed and hurt, in a way no one has left him because no one else managed to make him feel that way. The people he cared for most abandoned him yet again. How can one not lose faith in the world after that?

#thanks for the ask!!! #i love studying him under a microscope #bg3 #gortash #enver gortash #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate #durgetash #bg3 gortash #the dark urge #durge

[maineventbts]

DON’T SCREAM

genre: horror, thriller, smut, angst

pairing: taehyung x reader (featuring jk, hobi, joon, jin, yoongi)

word count: 10.4k

warnings: mentions of murder & death, violent attacks, unprotected sex, vulgar language, knives & guns. lmk if I’m missing anything else!

summary: you just branded your boyfriend as the murderer, after your gruesome attack. you think you’re finally safe in your friend’s home, but you receive a call from the killer while he’s in jail. the town continues to be in fear, awaiting the next killing. the police set a citywide curfew, which is ignored by many. like any good horror movie, a party is thrown during all of the chaos. thinking you have a night of fun ahead, you find yourself fighting for your life, and get the surprise of a lifetime.

a/n: i wrote this very quickly, please ignore any mistakes. this has turned into a series, but this is the last part that will be almost exactly like the movie. please leave any thoughts/comments/questions in my inbox (anons are on)!

"I got it wrong," your words come out hoarse, feeling like you were just kicked in the chest. Nayeon's mother left the room in silence, too stunned to speak on what just happened. The voice on the other side of the phone made your ankle wound throb. Tears dripping down your face, burning like acid eating at your skin. Not even a full three hours have passed since your attempted murder, and you're receiving a threatening phone call. What makes matters worse is that you've already labeled your boyfriend as the boogeyman, the killer is still on the loose, and targeting you. Taehyung was behind bars, and you believed that you were safe. This couldn’t be happening, there was no way that this was your life. You have no idea who was behind the mask or the chilling call. You were just at the police station, getting your ankle patched up and having your statement taken by Seokjin. All eyes were on you while you pointed the figure towards Taehyung. You knew he’d never forgive you, especially after he tried to get you to believe him.

Tensions were high; a murderer was running loose, you told the police your boyfriend tried to kill you, and the anniversary of your father's murder was just around the corner. Even though you were in a house full of people, you felt alone. No one in the room could see or understand what you were going through. Nayeon pulls you in for a hug, her hands wrapping around your quivering frame. You couldn't stand to be here anymore, you were ready to hop on the next flight and join your mother. You just wanted to get away from the carnage that is your new life. "I just want to sleep," you mutter, shuffling towards the extra bed in your friend's room. You cry silently, tucking yourself in the sheets. Late to the party, Nayeon's brother bursts into the room. With a pistol in his hands ready to shoot someone, he asks, "What happened," his question goes unanswered as you turn over, and his sister rolls her eyes. "You're late, Jin," she said, crossing her arms over her chest, annoyed with her brother's late arrival. For a police officer, he wasn't the best when it came to emergencies. It was his job to keep an eye on you and he was failing miserably. You could hardly comprehend what just happened, and since you surely weren't ready to tell the story, you let Nayeon speak for you. 

As you walk onto campus the next morning, you're surrounded by reporters who were awaiting your arrival. They didn't care about your well-being, they were just ready to use you for another top story. The flash from the camera blinds you and brings back the worst kinds of memories. All you could think about were the invasive journalists from your dad's trial. The theories and the articles were the worst part of it all. You wouldn't be surprised if one of the top reporters were among the sea of bastards with a microphone and a camera. With Nayeon by your side, you believed that you would be okay and could make it through the turmoil. "Just ignore them," she says quietly, ushering you through the crowd. This was the last place you wanted to be. After the night you had and the fact that no one could get ahold of your mom, you were beyond petrified.

You sit at your usual lunch table, digging through your bag, as you talk with your friends. Bandaged ankle propped up, slightly in pain after all the walking you’ve done. The first thing you did was ask about Taehyung. He’d been released, but you haven’t spoken with him since. You expected that he’d be pissed, wanting nothing to do with you. "What do you mean, how does he feel? You told the cops that he tried to kill you. The kid's spirit is crushed," Hoseok chuckles, his comment receiving a smack on the chest from Nayeon. You already felt bad, but he was just making matters worse, "what else was I supposed to think?!" The last thing you wanted to do was rehash last night's events, but you couldn't just stand there and let him railroad you. There was a valid reason for you to think Taehyung was guilty, you didn’t just pull him out of thin air. "He knew I was alone and just happened to pop up as soon as the killer was gone," you said, aggressively zipping your bag closed, clearly annoyed. Jungkook forced his way into the conversation, saying, "I'm with, ___ on this one. He's always seemed like a killer to me, he’s got the charisma of killers from those true crime shows! He has 'murderer' written all over his face. This entire situation straight out of a horror movie."

As the group’s film nerd, Jungkook knew all about movies and the different patterns they have. He believed that he was the most qualified person for solving this, surpassing actual officers working the case. Ignoring Jungkook's commentary, Hoseok came to Taehyung's defense, once again, saying, "The message log came back clean, anyways, it's not like this is the first time he's snuck into your house. He probably just wanted to see you," Hoseok continues to speak for his friend, he’d fully believed that he was innocent, "he's here today, maybe you can apologize." His suggestion makes you scoff, standing up abruptly, "Why the hell should I apologize, I'm the victim here! He just got put in a cell for an hour; I was nearly fileted." You couldn't believe you had to defend yourself to your friends, especially after what happened to you. They should be more understanding; sadly, they've done nothing but make you feel bad.  "By the way, I'm fine," you throw your bag over your shoulder, turning on your heel, "since none of you even cared to ask." It was hard to believe that everyone has something to say about the situation, but no one cares enough to ask about your well-being. You limped away from the trio, refusing to spare them another glance. After you walked away, the group remained silent, reflecting on their choice of words.

You received various looks from your peers, some looked at you with pity, while others looked like you had brought the killer onto campus. All of the eyes on you made you queasy, you wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. You're rushing through the hallway until you collide with another person. You try to regain your balance as you get ready to apologize. Before the words can leave your mouth, you realize you've come face-to-face with your boyfriend. He holds his hand out for you, trying to stop you from falling, before quickly pulling away. The look of fear in your eyes has him confused, "you still think I did it, don't you?" His question made you look away, head tilted downward as you stared at the floor. The look of concern on his face, paired with the softness in his voice, was a dangerous combination. You felt extremely guilty, expecting him to react angrily.

Maybe you were still scared, "no, Tae," you mustered up the courage to answer him. "You were there at such an odd time. Maybe it was a coincidence, but it just looked bad. I know it wasn't you, but that's all I could think in the moment," you finally looked up at him, sad eyes staring into his angry ones. "I knew you were scared so I just wanted to come and see you. I figured you'd want company, but the door was open, which was weird. So I rushed upstairs to see if you were okay," Taehyung grabs a hold of your hand, his expression softening as he realizes how sorrowful you look. "It's not just this though," he deeply sighs before continuing, "since everything with your dad, you've just been different." You snatch your hand away from his, glaring up at him, "what do you mean different?" You were appalled that he would even say such a thing, after all that you went through.

"You've been acting weird for months. Sometimes you barely want to be around me," he explains, and you stare at him in shock. "I know what it's like to lose a parent. When my dad left-" you couldn't believe the words you were hearing, especially to hear them coming from your boyfriend. "Really? Your dad left your mom, my dad was murdered. You can't even compare the two," your hand grips the strap of your backpack, as you prepare to flee this conversation as well. "I'm sorry that my life is too much for you. Not all of us are lucky to live in some perfect world," you push past him, your shoulder connecting with his. Taehyung calls out for you, shouting an apology as he watches you walk away. You refuse to turn back to him, keeping your head high while you storm away.

Ignoring the stares from your peers, you hurry into the bathroom. You lock yourself in a stall, leaning your back against the door. First last night, and now this? You just couldn't catch a break; it's like the universe was punishing you for some horrific crime. What could you have done to deserve a life like this? What you really wanted right now was your mother. She knew exactly how to console you and calm you down, but she still hasn’t responded to anyone yet. Seokjin promised he’d keep looking for her but you were beyond worried. You just needed to clear your mind, to breath. A few deep breaths and the sound of nothing seemed to do the trick. As you prepare to leave the restroom, you stop as you hear the voices of some girls. 

"She's such an attention whore." 

"Taehyung is too hot to be dealing with this. The bitch is insane."

"She probably lied about getting attacked, just to throw the cops off her trail." 

"After what happened with her dad, she just snapped, and now she's dragging everyone else down with her." 

The girls erupt in laughter, as they continue to exchange jokes about your current state. Every word felt like someone had taken a hammer to your chest. They didn’t know the truth, they just knew what they saw on TV and read online. The same goes for everyone else, they only know what people choose to report, not the full story.

As soon as the bathroom was cleared out, you exited the stall and approached the mirrors. You stared at your reflection with a blank face, too stunned to move. Eyes puffy and droopy, jaw clenched, and a frown. The girl in the mirror was a wreck, practically dead inside. A loud band pulls you from your thoughts, causing you to turn around. No one else was in the room, but you did see several people making a mockery out of the incident, masks and all. After what you just experienced, you weren't in the mood to stick around and find out what that was. Without any hesitation, you hurry out of the bathroom and walk to your next class. 

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"Students, for the rest of the week, classes are dismissed. Please acknowledge the citywide curfew and stay safe," an announcement goes through the intercom, receiving shouts and cheers from students all around. You and Nayeon are walking off campus, heading to her car, before you're stopped by Hoseok. "You guys coming to my party tonight," he asks, pulling Nayeon against his chest. You ignore their antics and keep walking, confused as to how they can party during a killing spree, with a curfew. "Come on, it'll be fun," Nayeon grabs your hand, giving you an overexaggerated pout, “Please, for me?” You figured she wanted to spend some time with her boyfriend, but just didn’t want to leave you on your own again.

You stared at them in disbelief, shocked that they’d even think you’d be up for a celebration, but the pair wouldn't budge. Part of you wants to stay in the safety of Nayeon's home, while the other part wants to be surrounded by a large crowd of possible witnesses. "Fine, I'll go," you give in, deciding that you deserve a bit of fun in your life. Hoseok gives the girl a final kiss before you snatch her away, ignoring his shouts directed toward you two. He does a celebratory dance before walking in the other direction, to get things ready for the evening.

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"Nice to see you, ___" Jungkook grins at you and Nayeon, he was surprised to see you two in his place of work. "We're looking for some movies for tonight. What do you got," you take a look around the aisle you're in before Jungkook stops you, "don't worry about that, I got the movies covered. I'm thinking horror movie marathon!" You weren't surprised by his choices, knowing how much he adored movies, especially horror films. "Alright, well, we're going to the store to get some snacks and food. Don't pick out any of that weird shit, I'm not watching Human Centipede with you again," Nayeon drags you out of the store, as you say your goodbyes to your friend. Jungkook stares at you in awe as you walk away, "just one chance," he mutters before turning back to his stack of DVDs.

"You left just in time," Jungkook scoffs as Hoseok approaches him, "and you brought Michael Myers with you, great." He looks over in the direction of Taehyung, who is too busy talking with a group of girls to notice his comment. "Will you give it up? It wasn’t him, the cops let him go," Hoseok rolled his eyes, tired of having to defend his friend. No matter how many times he tried to explain it away, Jungkook wasn't buying it. "This is the kinda shit that comes straight out of the movies. You don't think I know what the fuck is going on," Hoseok watches the boy get riled up, about to go on a full-blown rant. He stands back and watches it all go down. "Anyone that's seen a horror movie knows what's happening. That boy has killer written all over him! For Christ's sake, he's even standing in the middle of the horror section," Jungkook sets down the DVD in his hand, "I don't give a damn how clean his phone records were. They could show me it themselves, and I still wouldn't believe it." He was frustrated, no one seemed to listen to his theories or the facts he was pointing out.

A man approaches Jungkook, a movie in his hand, "if you came over here to ask me what actor is in it, look on the back! It's right there," he says, shooing the customer away, ready to get back to his conversation. "The cops only let him go because they're stupid. It happens in every movie! The cops are either too late to the scene or they ignore the obvious signs about who the killer is." Hoseok brings another question to the table, continuing to egg him on, "if he's the killer, what's his motive? Hm?" Hoseok wouldn’t back down, he knew exactly how to get Jungkook going, and continued to push his buttons. Picking up a new stack of DVDs, Jungkook places it on the shelf, saying, "there's always some reason for everything. No matter how stupid it is. That's what makes these movies so great, they aren't overcomplicated. Everything is right in front of your face," Hoseok stares at the boy, wondering how much longer he could go before he starts to lose his mind.

"His motive? Maybe _____ has started to lose interest in him," Hoseok bursts into laughter, "so? You think that means she'll be interested in you next?" Jungkook shrugged his shoulders at his question, "I think so, we get along great. Last time I checked, she wasn't running from me. Only your friend over there," he points in Taehyung's direction. When he realizes just how serious Jungkook is, Hoseok can't control his laughter. Pointing at him and giggling like a kid on the playground. Unfazed by his disrespect, Jungkook continues stocking the shelves. "You know who I think it is? Her mom," Hoseok randomly throws a new suspect on the table, "no one's heard from her since she left." Jungkook shook his head, his luscious curls bouncing as his head turned. "Nah, she's probably dead. Have you seen her mother? There's no way she could kill two different people, and attack ____," Jungkook didn't believe Hoseok, to him, it made no sense for your mother to be the killer.

"Her body will be found next. Insides ripped out! Teeth bashed in! Rotting in a closet somewhere," Jungkook's vulgar language didn't surprise his friend, he tended to be very overly passionate about these kinds of things.  "Someone's just waiting for the right time to bring her body to the surface." Hoseok looked around the room, waiting for others to notice just how loud Jungkook was getting. "If they watched a simple horror movie, they'd know there is a formula to this shit! A specific formula that they forget every time," at this point, he's practically shouting in the middle of the store, arms flapping around as he speaks. 

"Don't you get it! Everyone's a suspect," the room instantly got quiet as everyone stared at Jungkook. Hearing only some of the things he had to say, they thought he was a madman. He didn't care about the looks, he shrugged his shoulders once again. "The moms a distraction, it's Taehyung," as he turns to walk away, Taehyung pops up behind him, making him stop in his tracks. A firm hand grips his shoulder as Taehyung glares into his eyes, "are you sure you're not the killer? Huh?? Maybe your sickass saw too many movies and decided to make your own," Jungkook's eyes widened in horror, as he was accosted by his primary suspect.

Jungkook jumps again, as Hoseok comes up behind him, "you have a point there, in a typical movie, I'd be the main suspect." Playing with his hair, Hoseok continues to invade his personal space, practically breathing on his neck, "what would be your motive?" Jungkook answered quickly, looking between the two men, "it's a new age in cinema, motives come accidentally, naturally." The pair found him amusing as they continued to poke and prod at him. They giggle amongst themselves before walking away from Jungkook. Leaning over to a customer near him, Jungkook speaks quietly, "you're telling me that dude's not a killer?" Before they can answer, Jungkook snatches the DVD from their hands, shooting them a disappointed look, "Is that the Texas Chainsaw with Trey Songz? You've gotta be kidding me, go pick another one out," he sets the DVD on his tray before sending the customer back to the horror section.

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"Hey Hobi," you greet the party's host as you enter his home. "Is Tae here," you ask quietly, avoiding eye contact, "No, he said he wasn't feeling it tonight." Part of you was disappointed, you didn’t want to see him, but you felt like he was avoiding you. You take a look around at the large crowd, feeling a sense of comfort. If anyone was coming to get you, there'd be several people around to witness it. As you walked further into the house, people began to notice you. Shouting your name and giving you pats on the shoulder. It felt better than the way you were previously treated, but it still felt odd. "Hey guys," you give a tight-lipped smile as you make your way to the living room. Already on his way to the television, you watch Jungkook put a movie on. No one dared to disagree with the movie he picked out, wanting to avoid any kind of battle with the man.

"What's up pretty lady," the sound of Yoongi's voice made you turn around, you look over to see your group of friends waiting for you to join them. He hands you a red solo cup as the group makes room for you to get comfortable. You sit next to Nayeon and Jungkook, the two being your closest friends. "Are you feeling better," Namjoon reaches over, resting a hand on your shoulder. "Yeah, thanks for asking," you say, shooting him a smile, surprised that someone finally asked how you were feeling. You weren’t surprised it was Namjoon, he tended to be the more caring one of the group. Since your father’s untimely death, he’s made sure to always ask how you are. "Everybody shut up! We're about to watch one of the greatest films ever made, Nightmare on Elm Street," the room lets out some cheers as they settle in their seats.

Hoseok joins the group, plopping down next to Nayeon and asking, "can you get me another drink," the request makes her roll her eyes, but she does it anyways. She gets up from her seat and heads down to the basement. "Can you get me another drink," she mutters under her breath, mocking her boyfriend as she takes several drinks from the fridge. As she heads back to the door, the garage door opens up, stopping her in her tracks. With her hand on the doorknob, she looks to see who's there before trying to get into the house. "What the fuck," she groans, twisting the knob on the locked door. Instead of waiting around, she decides to go through the garage, to get back in the house. Walking towards the open entrance, she jumps. In front of her is someone in the same cloak and mask that attacked you.

"Jungkook? You've gotta be kidding me, take that off before ____ sees you," Nayeon shakes her head as she tries to walk past someone she thinks is a friend. A clothed hand wraps around her forearm, holding her in place. "You freak, let me go," she groans, trying to pull her arm away. "Fuck!" she shouts as she feels a sharp tip glide against her arm. Trembling in fear, Nayeon thrashes in her spot, trying not to freak out at the sight of her blood dripping on the floor. She thought it was just a prank gone too far, but they weren't stopping. "Let me go," her voice shakes as she finally pushes them away.

She bolts out of the garage, running from the assailant, just to be snatched back by her hair. Glass shatters on the floor as the drinks fall from her hands. Her back collides with the concrete, knocking the air out of her lungs. Coming to the conclusion that this was actually the killer, she’s aware that her end is coming. She tries crying out for help, words coming out as gasps, while tears run down her face. "Help me," she starts to shout before her mouth is covered. Letting out a series of muffled pleas for help, as she stares into the mask. She was beyond petrified, nearly about to give up. The phantom hovers over her, one hand over her mouth and the other hand wielding a knife. Her eyes widen as she notices the blade, thrashing on the floor, trying to save herself. Smacks to their face and fists to their chest, the killer refuses to let that stop their mission. Her attempts are unsuccessful, as the knife is plunged into her chest. Her hands come up to grip the mask, pulling it off of their face. Eyes fluttering as she’s losing consciousness, she looks in the face of the attacker. Her blood spilling onto the floor, as her world goes dark.

_______________________________________________

"Nayeon, let's go," you shout throughout the house. Jin was on his way to pick the both of you up, being your bodyguard and your ride. You already broke the curfew, but now it was time for everyone to head home. People leaving in their cars, going to lock themselves in their house. You'd been looking for Nayeon for the last five minutes, with no clue where she was. Little did you know, she was lying on the garage floor and you'd be next. You stand with Hoseok at the front door, as you wait for your friend to show up. "Hey, ___," a familiar voice sounds in your ears, causing you to turn around. Standing in the doorway is Taehyung, looking as sorry as ever. You can still hardly hold eye contact with him, giving him a small nod. "Hey, why don’t I go look for Nayeon and you two can talk," Hoseok suggests, pointing towards the stairs. You quickly nod your head, realizing that you can't ignore him forever. "Yeah, let's talk for a bit," you say, extending your hand, waiting for him to grab it. Taehyung jumps at the opportunity to be close to you again, intertwining your fingers. He leads you upstairs to the closest bedroom. After you enter, he closes the door behind you, wanting some privacy.

"Tae… I'm sorry," you sit on the bed, looking up at the man in front of you. Taehyung sits down beside you, resting a hand on your thigh. "I've been going through a lot, and I haven't been fair to you," you say, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I've been dragging you into my fucked-up world and expecting you to be okay with it." You stare down at your hands in your lap, trying to hide the fact that you're crying. You had expected him to handle all of the baggage you came with, not concerned about how that might’ve effected him. Taehyung radiated comfort; in this moment, you felt like you could trust him. Taehyung places his hand on your cheek, lifting your head up. "Baby, you can't blame yourself. You've had a lot to deal with this past year, and the least I could've done is be understanding," he says, wiping a tear from your cheek, giving you a small smile.

"My pretty girl… don't cry. You have nothing to be sorry for, I'm the one who's sorry," you finally look into his eyes, lips curving upwards. "Let me show you how sorry I am," you know what he's insinuating, and you're quick to nod your head. After the week you've had, you needed this. Not waiting another moment, you smash your lips against his. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, as you part your lips. His tongue slivers through, making its way into your mouth. Your hands come up to his shoulders, pushing her flannel off of him. You pull away, pulling your shirt over your head as Taehyung's eyes fall to your chest. He's quick to pull his shirt off and ask, "are you sure you want this?" Your hands come down to his pants, fiddling with the belt, "I want this, now," you speak softly, as you continue to get his pants off. You wanted nothing more than to be with him in the most intimate way possible. Taehyung was always your safe space, and you needed every bit of him to feel better.

_______________________________________________

The living room is still full of people, most of them being your friends. They've moved on to their next horror movie; Halloween. "It's obvious she was gonna die, she broke the main rule," Jungkook speaks to the group as he leans against the couch. The room as a whole was confused, assuming he was just speaking nonsense, as usual. "What rules," someone asks, clearly unaware that Jungkook has a habit of rambling on about movies. "You don't know the rules," he jumps up from his seat, looking at the people in disbelief. He lets out a big sigh and sets his beverage down. "There's a certain set of rules that everyone must follow if they want to survive a horror movie," Jungkook says, pausing the television as he begins to lecture the crowd. Little did they know, he’d give them some knowledge that would guarantee they’ll make it out alive. 

"Rule one, don't have sex," that rule made the group groan out a variety of complaints, people throwing chips and solo cups at him. "Rule two, no drinking! Rule three, no going off by yourself," Jungkook spoke passionately as he listed off the rest of the rules. "And finally! Do not say 'I’ll be fine’ you won’t be fine! You will die next," Hoseok laughed at his friend, standing up from the couch. "I'm gonna go get some food, do you want some," Jungkook quickly nodded his head, “by yourself,” he questioned, not knowing what idiotic comment would come next. "Yeah, I’ll be fine," Hoseok tried to contain his laughter as he exited the room, the rest of the people giggling behind him. "That's the kinda shit that's gonna end with a knife in your back," Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, knowing that he tried his best to give them survival tips.

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"Fuck, I'm so sorry," your words come out as a moan, your voice quivering. Taehyung fucking you from behind as you grip the sheets beneath you. Each thrust was more exhilarating than the last, making your legs wobble. His cock slid in and out of your sopping hole, leaving you a whiny mess. Your legs practically shaking from the intense pleasure. Taehyung's hands grip your hips, bringing you to meet his thrusts. "It's alright, pretty girl," one of his hands comes up to caress your head. What started as a soft touch turned into him pulling your hair, "best apology ever," he groans loudly.

Things started off soft and slow, but got heated quickly. You both were eager to please the other, willing to do anything to make things better. "Taking me so fucking well," he picks up the pace without a warning. The sounds of your moans mixed with your hips smacking against each other was unholy. You can't even respond to his praises, too high in the clouds to even form a sentence. All you can do is let out airy moans, while you clench down on his cock. His cock was stuffed inside you, making you whimper and whine for more. Your thighs are soaking wet at this point, dripping down onto the bedding. You didn't care about the night before or what he said to you today, all you needed was for him to give you what you wanted.

As he continues to thrust into you, an overwhelming feeling begins to approach. You're sucking him in harder than before, not wanting to let this moment end. "Come on baby, cum all over my cock," Taehyung encourages you, as he feels you reaching your end, "you can do it, pretty girl." Those final words did it for you, you shut your eyes as you let the euphoric feeling take over you. "Fuck, squeezing me so well," Taehyung grunted as you continued to clench down on his throbbing cock. Your whines were music to his ears, aiding him in reaching his own high. He lets out of a string of curses, as his thrusts begin to falter. He spills his seed in you, coating your walls, before pulling out. His cum drips out of your pussy, spilling onto the sheets in a little puddle. You both take deep breaths, before saying anything else. Turning over, you lean forward, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. After you two cleaned yourselves up, you began to put your clothes back on.

"Did anyone come to see you, when you were in jail," you ask, pulling your shirt down. Taehyung sighed, confused as to why you were even bringing it up again, "My mom visited me." Your eyebrow shoots up in confusion, his mother was already at the station before he arrived, it was far from a visit. "That's not a visit, she was there to speak with officers," you proceed to fix your appearance as you ask your questions. Taehyung sits on the floor, lacing his boots, and trying to contain his frustration with you. "Then no, I didn't have a visitor," he gets quiet for a second, refusing to even look your way, "why are you asking about that? I thought we already settled this shit."

You shrug your shoulders, before turning to look at him, "I was just curious. It'd be funny if you had someone come and see you, so you could tell them to call me. It’d be a smart way to throw me off and make yourself look innocent," You knew your admission would make things worse, but you didn't care, it was a harmless statement. Taehyung jumped to his feet, finally looking into your eyes, "you still think it was me, don't you? We just had a whole conversation, the call logs were clean!" As he shouts at you, your eyes wander past him. The door was slowly being pushed open, "what is it gonna take for you to realize that I'm not the killer? Huh?" You ignored him shouting at you, too focused on what was going on behind him. Your eyes focus on a black cloak, trailing on the floor.

"What the-," you mutter before seeing the rest of the costume. Once again, you've come face to face with the phantom. Taehyung continues to yell at you, unaware of what was lurking behind him, "are you even listening to me?" Your mouth falls agape as you look on in pure horror. The masked killer carefully approaches you both, "Tae, look out," you finally shout, but your alert is too late. You watch as a knife is plunged into his back, causing him to hunch forward in pain, grunting loudly. Turning around to see his assailant, the knife is rammed in his chest. You let out a gut-wrenching scream as your boyfriend falls into a pool of his own blood. Sadly, you were standing close enough for his blood to have gotten all over your face. You try to let out a cry for help, but no words can come out. With a quick swipe of the knife, the phantom jumps over the bed, in an attempt to get you next.

You hop over the bed, barely escaping the swipe of the knife. As they try to leap towards you, they land on the wooden floor, buying you a bit more time. Sprinting through the halls, you take a look around at the wide variety of doors. Knowing you can’t stop running, you choose the one farthest away from where you were. The killer was at your heels, matching your pace. With your heart beating out of your chest, you snatch the door open, quickly closing it behind you. Once you noticed there was no lock, you pushed the nearby dresser in front of it as a barricade. You were in a bedroom, looking around for some kind of exit. Loud bangs come from the other side of the door. It was only a matter of time before they would break through. You come across a window on the left side of the room. Rushing towards it, you lift the latch to unlock it. You try to move as fast as possible, lifting the window up and crawling through. Just as you’ve made it to the other side, the door busts open. The assailant was instantly heading your way, you let out a gut-wrenching scream, praying someone around could hear you.

The floor under your feet was slippery. The roof boards were unsteady, and you could no longer use the window seal to hold yourself up. Carefully taking steps to the right, you lean down, using your hands to balance yourself. Looking beside you, the phantom is making its way out of the window. They’re moving faster than you were, not worried about falling down. You stand up straight, arms stretched out, as you try not to fall down. Taking large steps towards you with the knife in their hand, the killer dives towards you. "Somebody hel-" your voice cracks as a sharp pain in your abdomen stops you from finishing your cry for help. You’d been stabbed through the side, the knife was quickly pulled from your wound. The blood is pooling out, dripping down the side of your shirt. You feel yourself falling over, losing your balance, as you’re about to fall to your demise. Their hands wrap around your frame, you try to fight them off, kicking and throwing your arms around. They continue their attempts to stab you, swinging the knife in your direction. Throwing your hand up to protect yourself, the knife jabs straight through your hand,leaving you screeching in pain. You bring your wounded hand against your chest, trying to stop the bleeding.

You were either going to die up here or fall to your death, you couldn’t decide which was worse. Your attempts at fighting back were useless; you were barely able to dodge the knife coming towards your face. Ducking down, you throw your hands forward, pushing them back. As they stumble and try to regain their balance, you try to stand up. Before you can even move, you get kicked in the chest with a heavy boot. The force being too powerful, you slip off the roof, falling backwards as you shout at the top of your lungs. Your back connects with the roof of a car in the driveway. Groaning out in pain, you can barely believe that you’re alive. Slowly opening your eyes, you look up, only to see an empty rooftop. You hope they think you died on your way down; you weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. This was your second time being attacked, and this one ended with you being kicked off a roof, you were scared to think what was next.

Mustering up the strength, you roll off the side of the car. As your feet connect with the ground, you find yourself being drawn to the floor. You can hardly stand up, your back in excruciating pain from your previous fall. Using the side of the car as leverage, you pull yourself up and prepare to run. Before you can turn away from the house, a dark red puddle on the floor catches your attention. It's the body that's accompanying it that brings you to tears. Your best friend was stabbed and left bleeding out on the floor. You want to stay there with her, see if there's anything you can do for her, but you can't help her if you're dead. You limp away from the scene, moving as quickly as you can. As you make your escape, you continue to scream and plead for someone to come to your rescue.

Trying to shake the disturbing image you just saw out of your head. You make your way to the front of the house, thankful to see a friendly face. "Jin, we have to go," you shout, happy that there's someone with a gun to save you. To your surprise, he drops to his knees, falling onto the floor. Your eyes pan to the tear in his clothes, blood staining his uniform. You rush over to the porch, taking the gun out of his holster. You’d gone so long without a weapon, now you had the chance to fight back. Loud arguing catches your attention, and you turn around, pointing the gun at the two men approaching you.

Jungkook limping comes out of nowhere, fear evident on his face. He pushes Hoseok back before raising his hands, "he's lost his fucking mind! I found Nayeon by the garage, we need to get the fuck out of here." Jungkook tries to rush towards you voice quivering, before Hoseok pushes him to the floor as he holds his hands out toward you, "you gotta give me that gun! He killed my best friend, my Nayeon," the faux tears and the blood on his clothes aren't doing him any justice. The men continued to point at the other, screaming about all sorts of things. Hoseok begged for you to give him the gun, promising he could protect the both of you. At this moment, you can't truly trust either of them. One of them was guilty, and you weren't sticking around to find out which one. You run into the house and close the door, ignoring the screams from outside. They continue to beat on the door, pleading for you to let them in.

You hear your name being called from the top of the stairs. Your heart usually swells when you see him, but this sight wasn't something you enjoyed. Drenched in his blood, Taehyung stumbles down the stairs. You rush towards him, helping him hold himself up. He lets out small gasps, like he’s trying to catch his breath. Without thinking, you hand him the gun, knowing you'll be safer with him around. "We have to get out of here," you tell him, your voice hoarse and tears welling in your eyes. He shushed you, letting you know that you were safe now.  "We gotta get the fuck out of here, now! Hoseok's lost it, he's gone mad," Jungkook pushes his way through the front door, immediately locking it behind him. Frantically pacing, he looks quite happy to see you two are still alive.

"Madness, is a lot like gravity, all it takes is a little push," Taehyung says, raising the gun, aiming it at Jungkook. You grip his arm, confused at his actions, only for him to fire a bullet through him. Falling through the table behind him, Jungkook hits the floor and now you're left alone. You scream in shock, staring at your friend lying on the floor. You want to rush over and hold him, you couldn’t lose another friend today. "Been waiting to do that all day. The little fucker figured it out too fast," Taehyung giggles, rubbing the barrel of the gun over his temple. You're confused, you watched him get slashed up in the bedroom, just to find out that he was behind it all. You willingly gave him a loaded gun, and now you’re about to lose your life.

Bolting towards the kitchen, looking for an escape, you come in contact with Hoseok. Falling into his chest, hands shaking as you pull on his shirt, "Hobi, we have to go now!" You start pushing him, trying to get him to run with you. He doesn’t move from his spot, just standing in front of you with a grin. Reaching into his pocket, Hoseok pulls out a black device. "Surprise, surprise," he speaks into the voice modifier, and you pull back in shock. The sound of his voice made your ears bleed, taking you back to the predicament from yesterday. You should've known it was them, all Hoseok did was defend Taehyung when he was guilty. The whole ordeal was confusing, nothing was making any sense. He was just supporting his accomplice, making sure neither of them got caught. You push past Hoseok, sending him into the wall.

When you think you've got away, here comes Taehyung, coming around the other side of the kitchen. Gun pointed in your face, as he backs you up against the kitchen sink. The way they stared at you made your skin crawl, you’d never been this uncomfortable in your life. "Where you going," Hoseok asks, as he approaches you, blocking off the area so you can't run away. "It's all a part of the movie, baby," Taehyung starts, keeping the gun in your face, "and you're the star, just like your father." You look down at the floor, too afraid to look either of them in the face. "Now, we're gonna ask you a few questions, alright? Get it wrong, you die," Hoseok jumps in to finish, "get it right, you still die." Taehyung puts the barrel to your head, shooting you a chilling smile, "There are only two survivors here, and I'm sorry, baby, but you didn't make the cut," the fake sadness in his voice was taunting.

You look up, glaring at the pair, "you both are psychotic! Fuck you," you shout, only for Taehyung to return the energy, "no, no, you already did that. Remember?" You feel sick to your stomach, remembering his hands all over your body, all of the sweet words he said to you. It was all a hoax and you fell for it. You felt disgusting, like you needed to scrub off this layer of your skin to feel better. Gripping the edge of the counter behind you, eyes moving back and forth between the two, "you're never gonna get away with this." You wanted to believe the words you were saying, but you weren’t sure. Clearly they’d planned this whole thing out by detail, they just might prevail. Taehyung bursts out in tears, laughing in your face, "oh, but we already did! Your father was an easy kill, and it was even easier to blame the whore he was sleeping with.” You feel your heart shatter like you're reliving the death of your father, all over again. You let out a small whine in disbelief. For months he’d been deceiving you, just for it to come out that he killed your dad. You needed to know what drove him to that decision and why he chose to string you along.

"Why'd you kill him," your words come out quietly as your head hangs low, you couldn’t bare to look at either of them. Absolutely repulsed at the fact that you had been friends with them for so long. They were the ones to console you when your father was killed, little did you know that they were the culprits. "Why? I think she wants a motive, Hobi," Taehyung turns to look at his friend, as they share a smile. They were excited to let you in on all of the gruesome details. "I don't really care for motives. You see, as our dear friend Jungkook told me, there's always a reason for everything. Motives come naturally and accidentally," he says, raising his voice toward the end of his statement. He looked at you like you were just a prop, a disposable piece in his movie. His aura was once warm and loving, now he just had the face of a psychopath. Eyes wide, a sinister smile, and a thirst for your blood. 

"Did they ever find out why Jigsaw liked to kidnap people and put them in traps? Or why Leatherface liked to cut people up with a chainsaw," you raised your eyebrow in confusion. It was the wrong moment to argue, but you didn't care. You were dying tonight, so why not try and bruise his ego before you go, "we found out about both of them. For someone so obsessed with movies, you seem to know nothing about them." Your rebuttal has Taehyung scowling, his expression turning sour, as he looks appalled by your response. You're expecting him to at least hit you, even make another joke about killing your father, but instead, he takes another route. "You wanna know why your father's lying in a coffin? My mother was in love with your father, they’d been having an affair for months. Drove my dad away," you groan, knowing the chick from TV wasn't wrong, her theory was spot on. Your dad might’ve made a bad decision but he didn’t deserve to lose his life.

In the back, Hoseok is jumping around like he just took a hit of something, "your father was a man whore! Walking around town like he was some macho man. Somebody had to bring him back down to earth," every word felt like a kick in the teeth, "my father left me, you know what kind of damage abandonment has on a person? It made you slip up and sleep with a killer." You felt like you were about to pass out, wound still bleeding as you felt your brain shutting down. For months, you ignored the stories and theories about your father, only for it to all be proven correct. "Now let me tell you how this is gonna go," Taehyung speaks as he picks up the signature knife, handing the gun over to Hoseok.

"Your mother went crazy, her husband was murdered and she was traumatized. She went on a killing spree, getting everyone except me and Hoseok," knife touching your chest, tip poking into your skin. Chiming in, Hoseok keeps the gun pointed at you from afar, "she thought we were dead but no! We get to stick around and plan out the sequel!" If you heard the word 'movie' one more time, you were going to get the gun and finish yourself off. “I mean, people need to hear about this shit. Imagine the kind of movie deals we’re gonna get,” Hoseok was beyond animated, imagining how their lives will change once this is over. An idea pops into Taehyung's mind, a smirk coming onto his face, "why don't you go get my baby's surprise." He orders Hoseok to retrieve whatever sick secret they kept in the house, while he keeps his eyes on you.

"Oh, you're gonna love this one," Hoseok cackles as he backs out of the room. Silence fills the air as you're left with Taehyung. You look around the room, too disgusted to spare him another glance. He stares down at you, grinning like he’s won something special. You should've known there was something wrong with him, nobody is that perfect. You hear Hoseok coming back into the room, your eyes moving over to the entrance. A look of fright is painted on your face as you look at the body thrown to the floor. "Mom!" you whimper, trying to reach for her. She's tied up with tape over her mouth, looking like they roughed her up before her capture. "Stay back," Taehyung points the tip of the knife at your chin, making sure you can’t get to her. He liked watching you tremble, in a powerless position.

"Enough of this shit, let's get on with it!" Hoseok shouts, still jumping around. She makes eye contact with you, eyes widening in pure fear. She's innocent in all of this, and now she's about to be blamed for everything. It was your dad that fucked up, and now she would suffer the consequences. You felt like there was nothing you could do to save her or yourself. You couldn't believe the scene in front of you: your boyfriend pointing a knife at you, your friend pointing a gun in your face, and your mother on the floor. Lost for words, you decided to prepare yourself for whatever would come next. "Hold still," Taehyung turns to Hoseok, raising the knife into the air. To your surprise, he's plunging it into Hoseok's abdomen, "FUCK," he wails out, as he’s stabbed near his chest. You couldn’t believe your eyes, they were truly committed to their plan, willing to be sliced for five minutes of fame.

Blood drips to the floor as he screams in pain, "Your turn," one hand gripping the island, and the other reaching out for the knife. The look on his face was horrifying, like he was excited to return the favor to his accomplice. Taehyung hesitantly hands over the weapon and grabs ahold of your T-shirt. "Not too deep," he directs as he braces himself. Knife penetrating his lower abdomen as he shrieks in pain. Taehyung smacks a glass cup off of the counter, letting it shatter on the kitchen floor. The knife piercing his skin hurt like hell, neither of them prepared well for this part of the act. You watch as the two continue to take turns, tearing into one another, screams of agony coming from them both. The counter covered in blood, dripping onto the kitchen floor. "You sick fucks, this isn't just some movie," you shout from the corner of the room, slowly backing away from the two men. Clothes covered in their own blood, holes from the knife slashing their attire. "But it is, sweetie! This is act three, and I'm sorry but your role has been cut short," Taehyung giggles in your face, a pained look remaining, after being cut into by his friend. You stand there in shock, unsure how you got yourself caught in the middle of a movie. The men continue to slice and dice each other, you watched closely, jaw hanging and eyes wide.

On the other side of the room, Hoseok is leaning against the island, his hand over his largest wound, trying to stop the blood from spilling. "Give me the gun," Taehyung gives Hoseok an order, his hand waiting for the weapon as he glares at you. You felt like you were on fire, his gaze burning through your skin. Your mother was next to go, choosing to save you for last. "Uhhh," Hoseok mutters, nervousness evident in his voice, "I don’t know where it is, man," He looks around the room in shock. Taehyung clenched his jaw, groaning, the last thing he needed was a missing weapon with their fingerprints all over it, "don't just stand there! Find it," he barks at him, his voice startled you, making you jump. Hoseok searches the room, looking under every surface. "I have a better idea for your movie," everyone stops at the sound of a new voice, confused as to what's happening.

A surprise cast member, coming to rescue you from the third act. You finally look up, eyes landing on your friend with a gun in his hand, "Namjoon comes across you two idiots and saves the day." He speaks confidently, walking further into the room. He never left the house after the party, he chose to stay back and watch movies, hiding once he heard screaming. You have never been this excited to see him. A bit of hope runs through your body, you feel like you might finally stand a chance in this situation. "I think I like this ending much better," you mutter in the background, earning a chuckle from your friend. Namjoon aims the gun at Taehyung, pulling the trigger, "what's the matter," Taehyung walks towards him, making him back out of the room quickly. He opens the door, but before he can escape, Taehyung makes a swift move. With a brutal punch to the face, Namjoon is knocked down, his body piling next to Seokjin's.

Taehyung approaches the bodies, picking up the gun he dropped. "These things work so much better when you turn the safety off. Say goodnight," he snickers, turning off the safety and aiming the gun at his head. "Umm, Tae! We have an even bigger problem," Hoseok shouts from the kitchen, looking frazzled. Too entertained with the battle in front of him, he forgot to keep his eyes on the other victims. As Taehyung rushes back into the kitchen, frantically looking around. He wondered, how the hell did you managed to get out so quietly.

Leaving Namjoon alone, Taehyung rushes back to the kitchen, as angry as ever. "Where the fuck is she," he screams at the man, pushing him around. You and your mother were nowhere to be found. As soon as their attention was off of you two, you quickly fled the scene. Hoseok takes a seat, an exhausted look on his face, "find her! Get u-" before Taehyung can finish, the landline begins to ring. They get silent as Taehyung reaches for the phone, "you should really think twice before turning your back," he says, recognizing your voice with the modifier. Getting visibly upset, he shouts into the phone, "bitch! We're gonna finish you off like we did your fucking father," cackling on the other side of the phone, and you give him the best response, "awe baby, you gotta find me first." Now that you’re on the other side of things, you return his taunting energy. Toying with him as he did you.

He sets the phone down next to Hoseok, before smacking him on the back of the head. "Get the fuck up, Hoseok," Taehyung grunted, as his friend is resting on the countertop. Hardly able to construct a sentence, he groans, "you cut me too deep man," he looks like he's about to pass out at any moment. Enraged by Hoseok's inability to help find you, he rushes off by himself, running throughout the first floor. It’s apparent that he’s run out of tricks. The police were on their way and you were nowhere to be found. His movie ending was crumbling right before his eyes and he couldn’t handle it. "Hello," Hoseok picks up the phone, his blood dripping all over the Dialpad. "What are you gonna do, Hobi? The police are on the way, Tae already has a motive, what about you," he tries to find the strength to respond, as he feels like he's about to slip away. "He pressured me into this, I'm easy to manipulate," Taehyung is still in the back, tearing up the couches, and kicking over household items. "You didn't really call the cops, did you," cackling at his question, you're quick to respond, "of course I did." Clearly, that wasn't the answer he wanted, a wail coming from the back of his throat, "this house is a mess, I am so dead!" He was absolutely insane, sobbing about getting in trouble for a messy house, when he just committed several murders. 

Taehyung stalks through the halls, moving as quietly as he can. Gun gripped in his right hand, as he kicks open every other door. At this point, he was running out of options. The police were on their way and they knew what he did. He might be going to jail but he needed you to die first. He’s eager to find you and finish you off himself. You’ve already ruined their plan, there was no way he was going to let you escape. Little does he know, you aren’t too far from where he was. Out of nowhere, a closet door busts open, and here you come, leaping out at him. Raising your weapon, you impale his chest with the same knife he tried to use on you. "Bitch," he groans out in pain, his body starting to drop to the floor. Looking down at him, you think everything is finally over, putting the knife in your back pocket. You begin to walk towards Jungkook on the floor, wanting to see if he was okay, until you're tackled sideways. Hoseok came out of nowhere, seeming to have regained some of his energy. Your back comes in contact with the wood floor, a shooting pain passes through your body. You’ve been fighting all night, but you don’t plan on giving up anytime soon.

Hoseok hovers over you, wrapping his hands around your neck, "die already!" He presses down, ignoring your hands clawing at his forearms. You raise your knee, hitting him in his groin. Hoseok falls back in pain, moaning on the floor. You hop to your feet, trying to catch your breath. You scan the room for the nearest exit. The stairs being your first choice, you sprint up the steps. You slip into an empty bedroom, closing the door behind yourself. Hiding from him was practically pointless, this was his house, you were at a disadvantage. “Don’t run baby,” Hoseok shouts, busting into the room. He charges towards you, hands instantly wrapping around your throat. “The movie isn’t finished, you’re ruining everything,” he screams every word in your face, bits of his spit hitting your face. He starts tightening the grip on your neck, making you thrash. Your hands come up to his face, trying your hardest to push him away. Hoseok backs you in a corner, your body colliding with the wall. You feel your life slipping away, running out of air in your lungs. You reach into your back pocket, raising the knife up. Jamming the end of the blade into his forehead, making him grunt, you could feel his hands loosen the grip on your neck. Pressing your foot against the wall, you push yourself forward, causing him to stumble back.

He lets you go before he drops to the floor, hands coming up to console the sore spot on his face. You lie in the corner, caressing your neck like it would help make the pain go away. You gather all of the strength you have to pick yourself up and hobble out of the room. You were on the verge of dropping to the floor, having to use the walls in the hallway to hold yourself up. Just when you thought you had gotten a substantial amount of space between you two, he catches up quickly. Right behind you as you approach the stairs, “why won’t you die!” You try to ignore the screams behind you, as a pair of hands pulls you back. You drop to the floor, making sure to keep ahold of the knife in your hands. Grabbing your shirt, Hoseok snatches you up. As your feet hit the floor, you raise the knife up, plummeting it in his chest. Letting go of you, Hoseok drops to his knees hands coming up to grab the railing. You decide to give him the same ending that he tried to give you. You pick your foot up, pressing it against his chest. You watch as he tumbles down the stairs, before hitting the wood floor at the end. A slight smile crawling onto your face, this being the best thing to happen to you all day.

You quietly walk down the stairs, just in case there’s another unwanted surprise waiting for you. Limping into the living room, you find yourself looking for another way to escape. "Jungkook," you notice your friend hobble into the room. You rush towards him, examining his chest, saying, "I thought you were dead." He looks relieved to see you, throwing his arm over your shoulder, saying, "I definitely should be, I’ve never been so happy to not get any action." You choose to ignore whatever he's rambling about, your brain is too clouded to comprehend anything.  "This is one of the worst movies ever," a voice groans from behind you two. Namjoon is rubbing his head as he walks over to you guys. He gawks around the room, shocked to see the state of the house. Pictures and statues knocked over, glass coating the floor. You stand around, looking at the bodies on the floor, knowing your life has been changed forever.

"Wait, I've seen movies like this, it ain't over. Evil always comes back, you need to shoot it in the head," Jungkook's commentary concerned you. Nudging his body with your foot, you wait for him to pop up. His body remains still and stiff. “I guess this movie has an alternate ending,” you mutter, before limping over to the closet to untie your mother. “Are you okay,” you ask, already knowing the answer as you pull the duct tape from her mouth. All she could do was grunt, she was in horrible shape, bruises all over her face from her attack. Jungkook and Namjoon come over to help you, untying her wrists and ankles.

“It’s Billy,” a quite voice speaks from the front door. You all whip your heads around in unison, scared as to what might lurking behind them. You feel a lump caught in your throat, words unable to leave your mouth. “Holy shit, you should be dead,” Jungkook stops his movements as he observes the person in front of him. You feel like your paralyzed, too confused to make a move. Something pulls you back into reality, you jump up to your feet and run across the room. Colliding with your best friend, wrapping your arms around her. You pull away, examining her wounds. She leans into your chest, on the verge of collapsing, “I’m fine, so is Jin,” she points over to her brother on the floor, regaining his consciousness.

Once the police arrive with EMTs beside them, you truly believed it was all over. Evil was defeated and none of your friends lost their lives in the process. You’re in the back of ambulance, sitting on the edge, as you wounds are being tended to and you’re hooked up to machines. Looking over, your friends have the same thing going on, faces looking exhausted yet thankful that they made it out alive. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breath. “We got two more in here! They’re still breathing,” your heart beats rapidly, making the machines go haywire. Tears run down your bloodstained cheeks as you watch paramedics go rescue the same two men that tried to kill you. Your mind was hazy, you didn’t know what to say or what to think. All you could do was let out an agonizing scream.

#bts #bts fic #bts x reader #bts smut #kim taehyung #bts horror #scream au #fic: don’t scream #taehyung fics #taehyung x reader #bts au #bts oneshot #taehyung smut

[domoz]

Hmmm okay prompt: premise: people can, once in their lifetime, basically will the universe into granting whatever is their soulmate's greatest wish at the time they do this. Shinobi will usually save this to use as a get out of death free card (which USUALLY works, because "survive" is a pretty strong impulse when you're about to die, but not always), riches are common, as are the deaths of abusive bosses/parents/etc.

...we all know what Tobirama's greatest wish has nothing to do with being alive himself. So now they're about to die AND have to deal with Kawarama and Itama (plus or minus Hashirama depending on when you set it) who have no idea what's going on.

Oh Youve Done It Now

It's been years since Tobirama has felt this chakra. Longer still since it's been turned towards healing him.

Even with it, his whole body aches. Exhaustion piled upon exhaustion, and he'd lost track of his injuries very early into the fight. He knows only that it hurts to breathe, yet his body stubbornly continues to do it despite each inhale rattling inside of him.

He must be dying, he thinks. His mind has conjured up some fantasy to comfort him as his life fades.

"I know you're awake, otouto." Hashirama's voice, in the same tone he'd use when one of his experiments was particularly troublesome -- exasperated, but ultimately unable to hide his worry. "I'd really like an explanation."

"I think I might have one." That voice would be Hikaku's, who should not be anywhere near here, and so the one whose presence only cements this as a strange dream. "Your brother, even on the verge of death, has only ever wished for one thing."

Silence stretches, the whole world is silent and muffled except for the sense-memory of sunlight through trees as Hashirama's chakra knits together bones.

A sigh. "He did warn me. Though I suppose this did work, in its own way."

"Wait, Hikaku-san, you--"

"But you're an Uchiha!" A voice Tobirama hasn't heard in many, many years shouts. It's enough to have him forcing his heavy eyelids open -- even if it's not real, he needs to see--

Hashirama is leaning over him, curtain of hair blocking out most everything else as he heals the crater that Tobirama's chest has become. He looks younger than he did when he died, though not overly so; a snapshot from those few years when he'd gained laugh lines but not yet stress wrinkles around his eyes.

"Don't sit up." He warns, his voice is stern, but there's something fragile in his eyes, "And don't infuse chakra, or I'll knock you out again."

He wouldn't even have to make good on the threat; Tobirama would probably lose consciousness for even trying.

"'nija." He says. Is all he can make himself say between the pain and the tightness of his throat. Hashirama smiles tightly and leans back -- enough for the two figures taking refuge behind him to lean around and look at him with wide eyes.

"Wow, aniki. You got old. What happened to your face?" Kawarama.

Whether he's referring to the red slashes that Tobirama had only made after his death or one of his other injuries, he doesn't know. It doesn't matter, really.

Tobirama's eyes burn. His instinct is to look away, to hide his face, but he doesn't dare.

"That's mean, nii-san. He's hurt." Itama is grabbing onto Hashirama's robe with one white knuckled fist and Kawarama's wrist with the other. The two of them are the same age that they were when they died, the same way that they've been frozen in Tobirama's memories. Kawarama was born first, but brought back like this, Itama has a year and a few centimeters of height on him.

Kawarama makes a disapproving noise -- his eyebrows are furrowed like they did when he was worried and trying not to let it show. He glances obviously to the side, scowls at what he sees, then puffs out his cheeks and steps out of Hashirama's shadow. He doesn't go far -- only to get close enough to sit by Tobirama's head and tug at his hair -- but Itama lets himself be dragged behind and releases his grip on Hashirama to pick up his hand instead.

I missed you. He wants to say. I missed you, I'm sorry, I missed you. He knows better than to leave things unsaid, sucks in a breath to try, and it's agony. Blood stains his teeth; his vision greys and Hashirama is saying something that runs through his ears without registering. His chakra swells until Tobirama can taste it on the back of his tongue,  until it drowns out the pain behind its own presence.

He loses time. Kawarama is petting at his hair now, and Itama is mapping the scars on his hands, but both of them refuse to settle, eyes flicking up to watch some threat. Tobirama is in no state to defend them if they should need it, but he forces himself to move despite the pounding weight of his head and look.

They are, he belatedly realizes, in a dome of mokuton vines, and sitting against the far wall, hands visible on his knees, is Hikaku. And he knows why his brothers would be wary of him, but after all these years Tobirama can't see him in that light any longer.

The Uchiha smiles wryly.

"I followed as soon as I heard where you were headed." He says. "No point in having a wish that never gets used."

"So you really are soulmates." Kawarama grumbles. And Tobirama wants -- he wants to promise Kawarama that Hikaku won't hurt him. That no harm will ever come to him again. But with a slow, choking panic, he realizes that he does not even have the strength to turn his head and see him again. He squeezes Itama's hand instead, fingers trembling.

"We're at peace now!" Hashirama says, leaning back from where he was holding his hands over Tobirama's chest to wipe at his brow. Tobirama can see a sunny smile in the corner of his eye. "Just like we used to talk about."

"...Uhm." Itama says after a beat. "If we're at peace, then who were those guys you were fighting?"

"Aah, that's, well--" Hashirama glances at Tobirama first, and then remembering that he's in no state to speak turns to Hikaku instead.

The Uchiha sighs, with that slight twist of a smile that means he thinks something is ridiculous but he won't say it.

"That was supposedly one of Kumo's best squads. Your death was enough of a perceived weakness that Suna started making aggressive action to claim more land. Kumo and Iwa started targeting our shinobi shortly afterwards…"

It's a basic summary of the political situation that Tobirama has been living with for years now, and he tunes it out without quite meaning to.

All of his most important people are here, are with him. It's a nice enough sentiment to die to.

--

It's dark.

Tobirama feels like he's withered dry and might crack apart into dust if he so much as moves a muscle. The pain of breathing isn't agony, anymore, at least. More an aching pulse that rises and ebbs with each breath.

He's horribly disoriented for a long moment --truly dead, now? -- he's lying down, something soft placed over a hard uneven surface, there are two tiny motes of warmth curled up on either side of him, and there's a conversation going on above his head.  That's probably what woke him.

"I should have known he wasn't over his prejudice against your clan." Hashirama sighs, "I'm sorry--"

"I'm not going to pretend he's our greatest ally, but I don't think you would have been able to do much better." Hikaku cuts him off sharply. Having lived past the age that Hashirama was when he died, he has apparently decided to abandon the deferential respect that he used to have. "I'm certain he would love to let us fight -- keeping them back is my choice. The countries we are at war with have no laws against eye theft. They have bounties for each bloodline they can take, and ours is the highest."

Tobirama blinks, but there is no moonlight for him to see by. They'd tried to make it work. Barbaric as the Hyuga seal is, it is useful; but no matter the modifications Tobirama makes to it, Hikaku cannot get his clan to agree to use it, and without it his clan members are all targets too tempting for their enemies to leave alone. But why is he telling Hashirama this…?

"We have as much sway as any other clan in the council. You are the one who named your own brother as a successor, and got half of my clan convinced they needed more power or risk being destroyed."

Hence the military police plan, and Tobirama isn't certain it will help much. If the Uchiha can't fight on behalf of the village, fighting within it is about the only thing left for them to do -- he figured he might as well at least make it productive.

"You know," Hikaku continues, voice flat, "There was a faction of my clan that wanted to follow in Madara's footsteps. We're all trying our best, Shodai-sama."

There was a plan to assassinate him, which Hikaku dealt with before it could become public. Tobirama is thankful for that, but it has left his soulmate deeply unpopular within his clan.

This feels like a very strange way to have one's life flash before their eyes.

"I… see. I apologize. I'll speak with Tobirama before making any more assumptions." Hashirama says, clearly cowed. There is a long moment of silence, then, "…Do you truly call him by his title? When the two of you are soulmates?"

"He refuses to ruin what little authority I have over my clan by acknowledging it publicly." Hikaku's tone is harsh, now, though if he has an issue with that he's never brought it to Tobirama's attention.

A moot effort now, Tobirama thinks muzzily. Hikaku might be thinking that too, from the way he sighs.

"Tend to your brother, Shodai-sama. I'll keep watch."

The wave of chakra his brother sends over him sends Tobirama into a darkness of a different kind.

--

When he awakens again he's horribly nauseous. The weightlessness of open air alternates with a dull shock that sends a jolting ache through his body every time it happens. It's manageable; Tobirama could fight through this, if he had to.

But he won't have to. Hashirama has him, one arm secure under his knees, the other his neck, holding him tight to his chest to try and mitigate the impact of each jump.

He's moving much slower than he should be, if his goal is to get an injured person to safety.

Tobirama peels his eyes open, squinting in the wind as the treetops whip past overhead. He has enough strength in him now that he can reach up and grab at the front of his robe, though he grunts from the effort.

"Anija." He rasps. There was still so much left unsaid between them at the end. Enough that Tobirama doesn't even know where to start, aside from the obvious, "I'm--"

"Oh Tobi, good! Hashirama doesn't even seem aware that he's cut anything off. "He's awake!" He announces over this shoulder, and drops from the trees to the ground, landing with a thump. Hashirama is obviously trying to muffle the impact, but it makes him twitch and hiss in pain regardless.

He's healed enough now that when Hashirama  goes to set him down against a tree trunk he can keep himself upright, but not without his arms shaking from the effort.

"We still really shouldn't be moving you." His brother comments idly as he sends a light pulse of diagnostic chakra through his system, "I really wish we'd been able to use a stretcher. And you're going to take forever to recover your chakra after how much I had to dump into you. But if you actually rest when we get home, you should end up alright."

His hands flutter around until he finds a water skin -- Uchiha mon stamped on, so it must actually be Hikaku's -- and shoves it in Tobirama's face. He's able to get a grip on it enough to hold it himself -- the water is stale but the he relief of it sharp, settling over him like a blanket.

"Hikaku-san went ahead to alert everyone as soon as we got into safe territory." Hashirama chatters on, "There should be a patrol coming to meet us. You really had us worried there for a minute!"

As he talks, Tobirama's eyes don't move from the two figures that have landed behind Hashirama and are peering over his shoulders.

"Seriously." Kawarama says, "I don't think you've ever slept that long."

"I--" Tobirama chokes out, "I haven't died, have I?" 

"No." Itama says, eyebrows knitted together.

"You'd better not have." Kawarama echoes with a scowl

"You're the only one here who hasn't!" Hashirama smiles, like he's made a joke, but it slips right back off his face at whatever he sees when he meets Tobirama's eyes.

"Oh, Tobi…" He says sorrowfully, but Itama beats him to whatever he's planning on doing, darting around Hashirama and carefully but forcefully wrapping his arms around Tobirama's neck. Not to be outdone, Kawarama squawks and secures a hold around one of his shoulders.

Tobirama's eyes burn, and he buries his face into a bony shoulder, so he's not able to see when Hashirama moves to pull all of them into his arms. He's lived long enough that the grief of their deaths had scarred over, but this has ripped the wound gaping open wide.

"It must have been lonely." Itama says, voice muffled in Tobirama's fur.

"We're here now though." Kawarama insists. His voice wavers so he buries his face in fur, too.

“Yeah.” Hashirama agrees, chin resting on top of Tobirama’s head. “We’re all here, now.”

#oops! no writing tag #naruto blog for naruto things #ending this here before I get SO out of hand. #but u already know theres so much i want to explore in this au now

[lu-lus-duckies]

@huskers-bar x @nunalastor chapter 3

Tags: enemies to lovers, angst?, eventual fluff, yearning?, soft huskers-bar, both mods are separate people, no beta we die like i do in this fic (not yet though), minor character death, ooc, au: hellaverse (hazbin hotel), nunalastor is head of the marketing department of the hazbin hotel (lucifer grabbed them randomly), jealousy?, huskers-bar is an employee at voxtek, lulu as a villain, lulu is a dog, huskers-bar is a liar, secret dating?

chapter: 3/? / chapter Word count: 1,659 / total word count: 4942

nunalastor as a single entity is nunalastor, traumatized mod dickmaster and cursed mod nun. and huskers-bar just husk/huskers. babygirl anon will be babygirl anon. I will be lulu. Angie will be angie but is meant to be read as angel dust.

A/N: peepee poopoo nunalastor lore drop uwu. thinking of removing the enemies to lovers tag on this because the plot has changed so much from what I originally planned. lulu is losing the funny so less funny stuff this chapter

As Huskers stood there, frozen in the doorway, their eyes widened with a mix of surprise and mild anxiety. They couldn't believe their luck-or was it misfortune?-to stumble upon them at a place like this. All the while Dickmaster kept staring at them with that unwavering gaze. One that could only belong to a cat that had too much catnip

"And who are you?" Dickmaster hissed, finger pointed directly at the huskers, their eyes narrowing and emitting an intense glare. "some kind of stalker?"

Huskers cleared their throat, trying to break the awkward tension they had accidentally created. If only this was a normal meeting. "Um, hey there! Fancy meeting you both here... I am not a stalker, actually. I work at voxtek and Angie, who I had to work with, informed me of the hotel and I liked the idea... didn't think I'd see you here" They choked on their words, offering a nervous smile while fidgeting with their fingers and displaying a toothy grin that seemed too wide to be genuine. They grabbed the hem of their shirt and started tugging excessively. Their hands felt way too sweaty.

"You're avoiding my question, who are you?" Dickmaster retorted, taking a step back and finding support on the nearest surface, which happened to be the bathroom door. Their eyes narrowed, radiating skepticism and cautiosness.

This was a once in a lifetime opportunity for huskers. Nunalastor genuinely didn't seem to know who they were, which why would they? It's funny to even think that. This meant Huskers had a golden ticket, a second chance. Maybe they'll get to know them and change their mind on hating them? It was in the realm of possibility. At least they hope so.

"oh just one of the anons" Huskers lied through their teeth, waving a hand awkwardly and dismissively. The nervous chuckle was the last cherry on the top for their fabrication. "Love your blog by the way" Huskers offered the compliment, attempting to salvage what was left of the already a horrifying first impression.

Dickmaster though, seemed to loosen up a bit after that answer, though still kept their guard up. One could never know about these things and it wouldn't be the first time their instincts were right.

"ah, there's too fuckin many of you... have some mercy on my lil ol askbox sometimes" They added, slipping back into their online persona. Brushing off imaginary dust from their attire and examining their hand closely, it became apparent that this was probably a nervous habit of some sort.

The atmosphere grew increasingly awkward, leaving Huskers unsure of how to continue the conversation. However, they couldn't just... give up. Their desire to get to know Nunalastor better was the reason behind hiding their identity after all.

"uhm yeah... what, are you even doing here?" Huskers asked, after an uncomfortably long minute of just staring at the wall directly behind Dickmaster. The lump in their throat was starting to annoy them and he was starting to sweat.

"None of your buisness, Stalker" Dickmaster retorted, instantly stiffening up in response to the questioning. Was this turning into an interrogation? how dare someone ask something about them! They are a private person damn it! What'll they ask for next? Their favorite color?! Disgusting

Huskers recoiled, taken aback by the response which felt way more aggressive than it needed to be. The fact that they had just been called a stalker didn't even register in their mind.

"oh sorry, uhm... I should just leave then huh?" huskers asked, gesturing back to where they had come from, their nervous smile faltering to a saddened but genuine expression.

The flushing of the toilet was a lot louder than it needed to be and so was the sound of the door slamming open. Finally, Nun had decided to leave the bathroom, with an emotionless stare towards Huskers. "you should" They said.

Dickmasters eyes sparkled with joy as they reached for the bathroom door. Finally, inner peace-except their mood was immediately spoiled as soon as Nun picked them up bridal style.

'We'll be leaving now" Nun said, not even sparing a glance in Huskers' direction. They turned and started heading towards the direction of their shared hotel room without a second glance.

"Right, see you later" Huskers waved a little dejected, definitely startled but what could he do? ... Besides, they'd probably get more opportunities to interact with them if they decided to stay at the hotel. Though it's back to square zero as it seems, or square negative one.

Dickmaster unapologetically sexily started squirming and thrashing in Nuns grip "what?! wait-Nun-HOLD ON I STILL NEED TO USE THE-"

"Pee on me instead" Nun didn't even hesitate

"i need to shit-"

"sorry, shit on me instead" Nun corrected themself before dissapearing behind their room.

Huskers stood there confused and kind of amused. "What the fuck?" They said, pulling out their phone. They just need to know. They had to kno. They opened nunalastors inbox, hit the anonymous switch and wrote out their question. Within moments, a ding went off on their phone

what are the mods relationship with eachother? - anon

lulu we know this is you - nunalastor

~

"What the fuck was that, Nun?" Dickmaster angrily shouted as soon as the hotel room door was locked behind them. Managing to wriggle free from Nun's grasp, Dickmaster regained their footing, assuming a stance that demanded attention and respect, one that was clearly not showing.

Nun immediately switched their usually nonchalant or sassy tone to a more serious one. Their eyes were understanding but nevertheless a little angry. Who wouldn't be in their shoes? The annoyance of the demand was very much palpable. "You know you can't be seen out in public like this!"

This response only served to further enrage Dickmaster. They deserved their personal space! They weren't a child! This overprotective behavior was getting out of hand and becoming too unbearable.

"But Nun," Dickmaster began to explain, their voice a mix of frustration and determination, "they were here seeking redemption, I'm sure it's—"

"they could be another one of those stalkers! not like it hasn't happened before!" Nun interrupted, their voice filled with a mixture of frustration and caution. They knew all too well that encounters with obnoxious fans were not pleasant ones, especially considering they were in hell. It didn't even stop when they were out for snacks once in a blue moon. They never wanted a repeat of that incident with that crazy one, Lulu or whatever the fuck his name was, something stupid like that.

Dickmaster though was not budging. Despite the awkward tension of the encounter with huskers, they didn't think the anon was any danger to them. Either of them. Their gut feelings were always trustworthy "They didn't seem like it, they said they worked at voxtek and that Angie invited them, they wouldn't be here if not for Angie"

"That doesn't prove anything," Nun countered, equally stubborn, refusing to give an inch and provide Dickmaster with even a sliver of space. They were aware of how annoying and frustrating their protective stance might be, but their conscience simply wouldn't allow them to come to any form of harm.

This disagreement triggered a hissing fit from Dickmaster, who refused to accept Nun's ridiculous behavior. It had been a month since the last extermination and since Nun had started acting overly protective. Dickmaster paced back and forth in the room, desperately trying to channel their frustration into anything other than punching the nearest wall. "IT SHOULD! I can't be monitored like a hawk! this is ridiculous!"

Nun grumbled, fully aware that this confrontation was inevitable. It was time to employ their ultimate weapon. They put on their most sexiest face, placing a hand on Dickmaster's shoulder and attempting to physically ease the tension. "Sorry, babygirl. Let me apologize with my tongue."

"no" oh no. It's worse than Nun thought.

Nun took a deep breath and let it out, now it was time to get serious, as much as they despised doing so. They locked eyes with Dickmaster, offering the most sincere expression they could muster. Their voice adopted a soft, low, and soothing tone, oozing with genuine concern. "listen, dickmaster, you know I'm just looking out for you right?"

"Maybe" Dickmaster avoided looking at Nuns eyes, they were angry and Nuns eyes were the last thing they wanted to see. Instead, their eyes found comfort in the apartment floorings unusual patterns, refusing to look up.

Nun didn't like that, but didn't try to force it. "And that I want what's best for you?"

Dickmaster scrunched up their nose, not even hesitating with their response. "Debatable, considering you—"

"Please!" Nun interjected, their grip on Dickmaster's shoulder tightening as they cut off their sentence. They didn't need a reminder of what they did. "please, let me get your soul back for you first, let me make it up to you and then I can leave you alone, promise"

Dickmaster was in a whirlwind of thoughts, most of them screaming to slam them against the nearest wall and feed them worms but that was besides the point

"not like you're giving me a choice" Dickmaster very reluctantly gave in, clearly not happy about it, not one bit. They crossed their arms and put some physical distance between them. "fine."

Nun decided not to push further. A heavy sigh sounded throughout the room. "Thank you." Nun finished, finally happy they got through. They opened up their ask box and started answering more headcanons as a distraction.

~

Back at the hotel, a sinner, looking a little too much like an imp sits at the stairs of the entrance of the hotel, humming a tune to himself. A pair of footsteps could be heard behind him, along with that of a cane, commonly mistaken for a dildo.

"Ah. Lulu my dear, what brings you here this lovely evening?"

#I DID IT #I WROTE THIS IN UNDER 4 HOURS #I am going insane in the best ways rn #eat up because this is as much as a serious fic ya'll getting from me #tune in next time for lulu being a piece of shit #nunwhiskers #lulu is delulu #lulu is feral #huskers-bar x nunalastor

[themightymoose]

What are your plans for Branch in your au?

may I offer you my Evil Pop! Branch design?

yeah it's not very good but this is like the best thing I've ever drawn. So I'll take it. Anyways, long ramble under the cut

Let's start with his personality. Branch, while under the string's influence, is very chill and relaxed. He prefers to go with the flow and let everyone do their own thing. But he is also very smug and likes to get under people's (Poppy's) skin. He is also the lead singer of Kismet, who he considers his (cooler) brothers

Now, when he was younger, after his grandmother got eaten. He was terrified to learn that he had turned grey. Branch started to spiral, wondering how he was going to be liked by the Pop Trolls now, how his brothers would think of him. He would be an outcast! An embarrassment to them! He couldn't go to Pop Village looking like... this! Those were his thoughts before he accidentally stumbled on the Pop string. Branch hadn't meant to find it, nor did he plan on searching for it. Sure, he knew the strings existed, but he didn't really care much for the stories. He was just wandering, lost in his own thoughts

Then, he got an idea

He knew it was a stupid idea, it was ridiculous. A single string wouldn't be able to make him forget about all his problems. But he was willing to try anything at this point. He had to try. So he did. He pointed the string at himself and gave it a little flick. He closed his eyes and braced himself, expecting it to hurt, when he felt nothing, he opened his eyes, panic already seeping in again. Until he looked at his paws

He was blue. It worked

Branch quickly sprinted to the nearest place where he could see his reflection. He was colorful, and he smiled. He was perfect

Okay so one thing to know about the antidepressant string is that Branch still has way more agency than he would if he used all the strings. Like, yeah the string made him happy and gave him color, but other than that, he could basically do whatever. If he used all the strings to make himself a Pop Zombie or something, his eyes would be flat out pink. But since he only used the Pop string, he has just, like, a glint of pink in his eyes. Everyone just thinks it's heterochromia and doesn't really question it

ALSO 👏 since I headcanon Canon!Branch as autistic, Evil Pop!Branch is also autistic. And since he thinks for the longest time he would be abandoned if the Pop Trolls figured out he's actually grey, he got really good at masking. The only people who knew about Branch's autism was Kismet, and later Poppy. (ADHD queen and autism king)

I might actually make autism Branch hcs in the future

So during the first movie, the Pop Trolls actually end up getting Chef's attention because Poppy and Branch were trying to one up each other. Like, who can get the brightest lights, who can sing the loudest, etc. And during their ✨journey✨ they constantly butt heads, their arguing also ends up getting them into trouble. It isn't until their sitting in front of the campfire that Branch made that they have a heart-to-heart, and they realize they have more in common than they realize. They become much closer after that, which doesn't go unnoticed by the Snack Pack

"Wait, are Banch and Poppy... laughing? And joking together? I thought they hated each other."

"I dunno, man. A lot of things can happen during the adventure of a lifetime. Wait, is she... serenading him???"

"W H A T?????"

now the second movie... oof. okay. So yeah Branch is out stealing all the strings. But things quickly take a turn when he learns about his brothers' whereabouts. John is out living in the woods, just like it's always been for the past twenty years. He can't help but sigh as he looks at a picture of Bitty B. The youngest BroZone member, but also the cutest. He wonders what he's up to now. Just then he distantly sees a bunch of things flying over him, distantly hearing someone cackling evilly (like those things the Rock Trolls were flying in, I don't know what they're called)

Their next destination is Vacay Island, where Bruce and Floyd are currently residing. Floyd had just finished serving a customer before a familiar-looking troll swung the doors open, quickly yelling out orders to his little army to ransack the place, steal whatever they want. Bruce didn't know what was happening, he just knew he had to protect the kids. He didn't know where Floyd is, but he can fend for himself... right? He quickly tries to help Brandy gather up the kids and try to hide them. Meanwhile Floyd is hiding under a pile of floaties, through the cracks he catches glimpses of a blue troll. He looks so familiar but doesn't at the same, his hair grown out, going all the way down his back. He's wearing a Hawaiian shirt, much like what Bruce always wears. He is also pretty muscular, much more than Floyd could ever dream of being. But it's also certain mannerisms that the troll does that catches his attention. The way his tail sweeps across the ground, how he drums his foot against the ground when he's aggravated, it wasn't until he spoke that it confirmed Floyd's thoughts

Branch

Eventually they leave and set off to the next location, Bruce is calling for him. He calls back. Bruce is talking, panicked, but Floyd isn't listening. It wasn't until Floyd spoke that Bruce got quiet.

"Bitty B..."

"...What?"

"The... The leader. The one who was ordering the trolls around, telling them to ruin this place.... That was Branch."

Now it's time to pay the Putt Putt trolls a visit. Okay so I'm gonna skim over this one a little bit but let's just say they fuck up that place as well and Branch tries to kill Clay (I might make a comic about that if you peeps like the above drawing)

It isn't until the ending that he's really important. So Branch ends up capturing Barb, since she lies about being the ruler of the Rock Trolls. And then yeah they get the strings and turn everyone into Pop Zombies. And then... the reveal happens.

Branch is mortified, Riff's accusation was repeating itself in his head

"You've been using that string on yourself, haven't you?"

And he couldn't deny it, he couldn't say anything. All eyes were on him, he couldn't say some snide remark, a snarky comment, a smug or witty retort. He couldn't even roll his eyes. All he could do, was stare.

"Branch... is this true?" Peppy. Poppy's father, the ex-king of the Pop Trolls, and the father Branch never had. He couldn't bare to look at him, to see the look of disappointment and anger in his eyes, in anyone's eyes.

Then Barb speaks up

"You... can't be doing that. You can't just force yourself to be happy!"

And Branch just... fucking loses it. Who do these Rock Trolls think they are? They're trying to humiliate him, to get him thrown out.

He would not let that happen

Barb can see Branch walking over to her, his glare is dark and dangerous. She can see the crowd staring at her, Riff seems terrified for Barb's life. And she panics.

And she breaks them

The strings are gone

And everything is grey

Everything that Branch has been working for is gone. He tried so hard to be the most-loved troll in the village, to be colorful, to be perfect. It was all for nothing. And it's all the Rock Trolls' fault

and then yeah things happen and Barb ends racism :D (can you tell I'm getting tired)

And we still have the third movie :')

So y'all know for the third movie that Branch is the one that gets kidnapped and BroZone plus Poppy and Creek tag along to save him. Meanwhile Branch is sad because he thinks no one is going to come for him because he believes no one will want anything to do with him after the events of World Tour :(

oh how very wrong he is

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls movie #trolls world tour #trolls band together #trolls branch #trolls poppy #trolls barb #brozone #trolls bruce #trolls floyd #trolls john dory #trolls clay #trolls brozone

[thatstonedwriter]

Never Again – Part 2

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N- I wasn't planning on writing for Crimson, but I'm willing to take a crack at his character. I hope I handle his character properly and sensitively. This is an exception and I will not write for Crimson again.

Contents; Crimson, violence, references to the mafia (as its presented in the show), mentions of severe injuries, blood, swearing, angst, fluff, polyam

Feat; Moxxie x Millie x Reader, Striker, Crimson

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Everything stops- there's no air. What did you do? Why aren't you moving? You're like this because you were making sure they didn't get hurt. Its their fault, they know they have to do.. Something, but..

Tears are welling up in Moxxie's eyes. Once again, he's been proven to not be strong enough. Millie is feral, chasing off whoever dared come near you. When she's finally calmed down enough, she rushes to your and Moxxie's side. Even when the emergency services arrive, Millie is so on edge that she barely lets them touch you. The ride to the hospital was tense, paramedics doing what they could to stop the bleeding, and even then, they were worried it wouldn't be enough. Over the course of your recovery, Moxxie and Millie never left your side. Some days, they would take turns staying with you, to ensure your safety, and to keep you company; which would include Moxxie playing music for you, and Millie laying next to you, holding your hand, and telling you about whatever shenanigans the I.M.P crew was up to. They just want to see you happy. It takes a while for them to process the guilt, however once you're back home, these two love birds shower you with more love than ever thought possible.

Striker has never felt so powerless before. And he never would've expected, in a million lifetimes, that someone would do what you've just done for him. It takes every ounce of self restraint for him not to run after the bastard who did this to you. You are his priority. As much as he wants to, he knows he can't treat your injuries- so he calls for help. At first, he doesn't visit you in the hospital. This has never happened before, he needs time to process what it all means. What you mean to him. When Striker finally musters the nerve to visit you (though he has to be sneaky), he makes sure to bring some foods he knows you like. He's never been good at affection or talking about his feelings, so for now, he hopes this can be enough. Once you're discharged, he offers for you to stay at his place. Should you accept, he'll be sure to do his best to show you how much this all meant to him. Striker never wants to risk you getting hurt again.

Crimson orders his goons to rush you to the nearest hospital. Once you're out of his sight, the shock wears off, and the severity of the situation hits him with full force. Because of his.. 'status,' he avoids following you, and instead sends various people to bring you food, and flowers. At first, he does it as a courtesy, but then he notices how empty everything feels without you around. He isn't used to this. Upon your discharge, you find several body guards and a car waiting for you. Lowkey sketch, but you know who gave the orders. Once you're back, Crimson keeps you by his side, threatening to kill anyone who dares to send a questioning glance at the two of you. He's not at all versed in caring for others, but he does his best to make sure every want and need is met. You'll never be hurt again. Not on his watch. And within the next couple weeks, there is a new mount on his wall..

#angst #helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss headcanon #striker helluva boss #striker x reader #crimson helluva boss #crimson x reader #moxxie x reader #millie x reader #moxxie x millie #helluva boss moxxie #helluva boss millie #cw: violence #polyam relationship #romantic relationships #writings.onthe.wall