#And Hungry ate their lungs first while they were alive and they wanted to go down and fight this entity that wouldn't leave their mind
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tropicalcontinental · 2 months ago
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"If i don't come back I love you all."
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how about your lungs first?
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annebelle93 · 3 years ago
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Don’t know if you still do requests, if not feel free to delete this. How would the brothers react to an MC who was once Lilith’s lover? I’m pretty sure seeing them would piss them off
I most certainly still do, Anon! Thank you very much for your request and I really hope you enjoy the results
The Brothers react to an MC who was Lilith's Lover
Lucífer
· He kept a tag on you, for a while;
· After all, how could he not?
· You were the human who caught his sister’s eye; what ultimately led to her part in the war that killed her;
· The burning hate of a thousand suns;
· But after she became human, Diavolo forbid him to see her it was harder to stalk you;
· Over the years, he let it go assuming you would never be seen again. After all, the war was many many years ago;
· Imagine his surprise when you, from all people, fall flat on you butt in front of him;
· How?
· HOW?
· A descendant? Would a descendant look that much alike? Was it possible that you were somehow still alive? A curse? Magic?
· What are you?
· And just like this, you are never alone again;
· He must know if you remember her;
· He must know if it really is you.
Mammon
· Are all humans this quiet and mysterious?
· You speak in a strange way;
· And he always seems to find you wandering in the corridor to Lilith’s room;
· What’s the deal with you?
· One day he catches you in her room;
· The way you look there;
· They way you walk around;
· He finally understands;
· Standing behind the door, he is ready to jump and confront you;
· But at the end, he can’t bring himself to;
· You lost as much as they did.
Levi
· Levi doesn’t mind you
· For the first few weeks he doesn’t even acknowledge your existence
· Ugh, normies. Whatever
· Eventually you two get kind of close, being both reclusive and socially awkward
· He only discovers about Lilith the day Belphegor comes out of the attic
· Should he be big-bro jealous?
· It seems a little late for that now, but he goes for it anyways (for a bit)
· At the end of the day, he is far more interested if your presence there is some kind of Isekai situation
Satan
· The fourth Brother catches on to you pretty fast
· He is the father of lies, after all
· Can sniff a secret from miles away
· Besides, Lucifer has the habit of muttering his worries when pacing around. He couldn’t help but to over hear it
· Satan is the first to confront you
· He promises to not tell anyone (specially because the doubt is driving Lucifer insane)
· After a while, he too begins hanging out around you
· He has questions about his unknow sister
· And he really appreciates that now they can be answered without being interrupted by his brothers reminiscing about heaven
Asmo
· Asmo is another one with a good ear for secrets
· It doesn’t take him long before making Satan spill the tea
· He never confronts you directly
· Instead, he starts asking compromising questions out of the blue
· “Hey, MC” he blurts during breakfast one day “do you think in-laws are family, or they’re fair game?”
· You know.
· You look at the malicious eyes he pairs with an innocent smile and you know
Beel
· Like Levi, he only discovers during Belphie’s confrontation
· Asmo making jokes during meals?
· Oh please, he has more important thigs to worry
· Satan asking strange questions?
· He is a bit odd, I guess
· Lucifer tailing MC everywhere?
· Probably something Diavolo told him to
· But Belphie screaming at the top of his lungs is a bit hard to miss
· And he is disappointed in you
· You two were getting closer, why didn’t you tell?
· He is sad. He is hurt
· And he REALLY wants to be angry
· Beel prepares the whole confrontation in his head before speaking with you
· He plans words, accusations
· He ate a lot before going to your room, to make sure his hungry-anger doesn’t mix with his betrayed-anger
· But the moment he enters your room and sees you curled up in your bed, only one question seems fitting
· “Were she happy?”
Belphie
· You think Lucifer tailed you in the human realm?
· You have no idea what Belphegor is capable of in terms of stalking
· Diavolo forbid Lucifer to see anything related to Lilith, he didn’t say anything about Belphie
· And his hatred for you ran deep
· He knew you were the human for who Lilith fell
· He followed you through your life
· He hated you for meting someone else after her death, not knowing it was the very same Lilith made human
· Only on look at you was enough for to recognize
· Keeping calm to convince you to open the door to the attic for him was one of the hardest things he ever had to do in his life
· Resisting the urge to attack you through the bars
· The second he saw himself free, his hands moved to you faster than he imagined
· But he couldn’t kill you just yet
· You had to admit
· Admit you seduced his sister and caused her death
· Admit you just moved on to the next play thing the moment she was gone
· Admit you were the one that put those filthy human ideas in her head
· He had hated you for so long
· When Lucifer comes clean and talk about his deal with Diavolo, his world is shattered
· Deep down, Belphie still resents you.
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mcufox123 · 3 years ago
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Poofed
WandaxFemReader
Summary: Wanda copes with a life that may not have you in it.
Warnings: Devestation
A/N: This story literally is heartbreaking but in a good way I think. Let me know what you guys think!
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You wake up suddenly to your hand being kicked. It was wrapped around your wife’s very pregnant belly as you both tried to sleep through the night. You smiled dreamily in your sleepy state as you were reminded of the twins who would be born any day now.
You and your wife were a part of the famous superhero group who saved the world numerous times. Shortly after she joined and got acclimated with the team the two of you started dating. It has now been 7 years of being together, 3 of them being married. You had moved out of the compound and were now living in your dream house in the countryside, the perfect place for your growing family.
While Wanda was able to take leave months ago as none of the team wanted your children hurt, you still went to work every day. The team promised that once they were born you would be given 3 months to spend with your family but until then “there were still bad guys out there” in Tony's words of course.
You checked the time to see you still had a half an hour to spare before you had to be at the compound. You made Wanda breakfast and set it up next to her then you got ready for your day. You showered, got changed and before you left you wrote two sticky notes to leave on your wife’s mirror. One saying, “I love you more than chocolate chip cookies.” The second said, “You are looking like such a hot mama today.” You left a kiss on Wanda’s forehead and whispered an ‘I love you’ then you went to work.
Wanda woke later that morning with a smile on her face. She saw the breakfast you set up and immediately started eating because she was starving. After her breakfast in bed, she showered before seeing the notes you left. She actually laughed out loud. Even when you weren’t home you always made her day. She sent you a quick text.
Hi my love! Thank you so much for breakfast! I love you more than tv shows!
After that Wanda went about her day normally before she got bored and decided to go to the compound. When she arrived she saw Bucky and Sam watching tv.
“Hey boys,” Wanda said as she set her bag on the counter before walking over and sitting in between the two.
“Hey Wand, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?” Bucky suddenly jumped into protective older brother mode.
“Sit.” Wanda ordered him, glaring at him. She appreciated the gesture, but she was pregnant and not handicapped.
“Yes Ma’am.” Bucky sat not wanting to make Wanda upset.
“Damn man, if she needs something she’ll tell us right?” Sam asked, turning to Wanda.
“Exactly thank you Sam.” They continued watching TV comfortably every once in a while bantering about something.
“Hey guys, where was y/n’s mission today? I usually hear from her by now if she’s going to be later than 6.” Wanda said realizing the time was now past 6 and she still hasn’t heard anything.
“I think they were in Florida today,” Bucky said, scratching his head trying to remember what Steve told them this morning. “Some mission with aliens that Carol warned them about. They’ll be fine. You’re welcome to stay here in your old room though.” He finished. Wanda thanked him before getting up to move to the kitchen, both men hot on her tail.
“Who is hungry?” Wanda asked as she started to get ingredients out for a caprese chicken dish and some pasta.
“Me, for sure. I missed your cooking so much Wanda.” Sam said, taking a seat at the counter pulling out his phone to que up some songs to listen to while you cooked. Dinner was good and shortly after Wanda went to bed in the now foreign space and begged for sleep to consume her. It was hard because she grew used to your arms wrapped around her with your face pressed into her hair. That night she didn’t get much sleep. She sent you a text letting you know she was sleeping at the compound before she rolled over and tried to shut her eyes.
The following morning Wanda woke up to a still empty bed. Now she started getting nervous, she searched for her phone to see no new messages. She took her time getting out of bed but quickly threw on the clothes she was wearing yesterday before heading to the kitchen.
As she was almost there she could hear Steve talking.
“So Wanda’s here?” Steve asked the person he was talking to.
“Yeah she came yesterday and we just told her to stay. So wait, you're telling me that these things just hit a button then poofed with Tony and y/n? Are they alive?” Wanda could now tell the other person was Bucky. She felt like she couldn’t breath, feeling the wind knocked out of her at the words she just heard. She couldn’t hide any longer and barged into the kitchen.
Her hands instantly went into a fighting position holding Steve in a tight grasp so he couldn’t escape.
“Where is she Steve? What happened? You promised me no life or death missions. You promised me she would always come back to me. She said she would never go away.” Wanda said while breaking towards the end and crumpling to the ground. Bucky went over and wrapped her in a hug.
After a few minutes Bucky put Wanda on the couch as now the rest of the team came in and Pepper with her two small children. Steve went over what happened on the mission and how they have no trace of either of their teammates. He made everyone aware that Thor, Carol, and the Guardians of the Galaxy were all in search of their friends.
Wanda felt so lost. Your twins were expected any day and you were gone. How was she going to do it if you weren’t back? How was she going to be strong for your two little ones if you weren’t there? The questions swarmed her head as she tuned out the rest of the team. After hours of talking the team now turned to their tuned out friend to offer some support.
“When was the last time you ate?” Clint asked Wanda, putting his hand on her shoulder to ground her.
“I don't know.” Wanda shook her head still thinking a million miles a minute not making eye contact with anyone.
“Wanda you need to eat. You have two other people to worry about. Y/N will be ok, she will come back.” Steve said, sitting next to her. She collapsed in tears and that was how the rest of the night went, crying and the team forcing Wanda to eat.
The following days Wanda barely left the bed. On the 4th day of you being missing Wanda felt a sharp pain in her stomach. Her eyes started to tear up from both pain and the realization of what was happening. She was going into labor without you. She screamed out in pain and heartbreak.
Steve rushed into the room as soon as he heard Wanda scream, “It’s ok Wanda we’re here, let's get you to the infirmary.” he held Wanda’s hand all the way down to the infirmary. Steve sent a text out to the rest of the team to let them know what was happening and soon familiar faces appeared in Wanda’s room.
They took shifts as they waited for the time to push. Natasha talked about the makeshift nursery they set up for Wanda, Bucky talked about how he got clothes for Wanda and the babies from Wanda’s home, Steve talked about schedules and shifts he made up to help Wanda, Sam bought stuffed animals, and Peter offered to take the babies to the playground. Wanda just sat and listened, grateful for her friends and the help they were giving her. All she could think about was how you should be there.
You should be freaking out everytime Wanda had a contraction, asking if she should get the doctor. She knew you would try to find her favorite shows on the TV and rub her back whispering soothing words. She needed that more than anything, she needed you. She needed you to be there for your twins first breath, for bringing them home, for the countless sleepless nights.
Soon the doctor entered the room, “Wanda it looks like you are ready to push,” nurses entered behind them with all of the equipment needed for the babies’ delivery. Wanda nodded trying to prepare herself for the experience that was moments away. “Would you like anyone in the room with you?” and Wanda did, she wanted you but you weren’t there. So she asked her best friend Nat to stay with her to which Nat agreed.
They got into position and Wanda endured the hardest fight of her life, childbirth. She could’ve sworn she broke Natasha’s hand from how hard she was squeezing. Soon a melodic sound broke through the pain as her first child was born. “It’s a boy!” she heard and she started to cry of joy. She had a son. The joy didn’t last as she felt another urge to push. “And we have another boy!”
Wanda was so relieved that both boys were here and healthy. You kept telling her that you could feel it was two boys, two football players, you would say. They brought the babies to wanda and laid them on her chest. Nat was quick to snap a quick photo before exiting the room to let the rest of the team know, giving Wanda a moment with her children.
Nat walked out of the room to see no one in the waiting room. She asked the nurse where everyone was who informed her that they were outside. She walked quickly outside hoping you were back. Instead she saw someone else. Tony on his hands and knees crying while the rest of the team was surrounding him.
“What? Where’s Y/N?” Bucky was the first to speak. Everyone was too scared to hear what happened, why Tony was back but not Y/n.
“I don’t know. One minute we were in a room being questioned the next thing I  know y/n lunged at the guy questioning us. She was fighting with him for the poof thing. Then after she successfully got it we realized only one of us could go back while the other had to hit the button. She didn’t even give me a second. And now, now here I am and she is there. Where’s Wanda I  have to tell her something?” Tony suddenly looked frantic.
“No, you’re going with Bruce to do everything you can to get Y/N back.” Clint said, poking Tony in the chest. “You are not doing anything else until she’s back. And you definitely are not seeing Wanda. That girl just had to give birth to twins without y/n, she’s destroyed.” Clint walked back into the infirmary while everyone was still in shock.
“I ‘m sorry. I ‘m going to bring her back.” Tony promised before walking towards the lab to get in contact with the people who were already searching for y/n.
Meanwhile Wanda was still in awe of the two boys in her arms, memorizing all of their features. She knew their names, you and her had picked out the names for all twin scenarios and for two boys it’d be Tommy and Billy. She started to hum a tune she remembered as a child. She started to get upset as she remembered the last time she hummed the song.
You had just walked in from a long day helping in the lab and training. You saw Wanda in the kitchen cooking dinner before turning to see you. She gave you the biggest smile as she came over to wrap her arms around you. Her pregnant stomach left some room between you two as she reached up to plant a kiss on your lips.
“How was your day my love?” she asked walking back to the stove to turn it off and putting the food on the table.
“I'm so tired. Tony was going on about this new feature he wants to make for the quinjet and then Nat beat my ass at training. I don't want to do anything.” Wanda sensing your mood guided you to the couch she sat then pulled you down so your head was on her lap. She played with your hair to calm you down.
“The babies were very active today kicking the heck out of me” she giggled to which you turned your face to her stomach. You placed your hands on her stomach.
“Hey you two, stop kicking mama. I  know you want to play football but you're gonna have to wait till you come out of there.”
“How do you know they’ll want to play football?” She questioned you.
“I  can just feel it in my bones.” You said as your eyes fluttered close. Dinner was long forgotten as Wanda continued to play with your hair humming the tune and you drifted off to sleep.
The following week after the twins’ birth was very hard for Wanda. She went through all the firsts by herself. Instead of going through the first night with you she went through it alone. Instead of bringing them home together with big smiles she took them to her room in the compound. Instead of introducing the twins to the team with you they were all by Wanda’s side before she could introduce them.
She spent the nights in bed. Someone on the team  was always sleeping on a cot to help her during the nights. It had been 11 days since you went missing and you had already missed the biggest week of your little family’s life.
On the 11th day Wanda left the sleeping twins with a sleeping Uncle Bucky and roamed around the compound seeing you everywhere she went. In the kitchen where you both cooked dinner for the team all the time. On the couch where you spent countless nights watching tv shows and movies. In the training room where you pinned Wanda more times then she likes to admit. Then she headed towards the lab.
She stood shocked.
Right in front of her was a man that betrayed her. A man that you had put your life in the hands of who disappointed you. She stormed at him in a fit of rage. “You son of a bitch! Where is she? What did you do to her? I'm going to kill you!” Wanda screamed at him while hitting his chest. Tony let her, knowing that this was what she needed. Wanda continued to curse him out before Tony finally grabbed her hands.
“Stop. I  get it. I'm the bad guy, and I deserve to be. I  messed up the biggest moment of both of your lives. You can keep hitting me, knock me out, whatever you have to do. There is something I have to show you first though.” Tony let go of Wanda’s hands before walking to the screen to pull up a video for Wanda.
When it came through it was you. You were sitting in a bare room and Tony was asleep on the floor behind you. Your hair was a mess and you looked exhausted.
“Friday is it recording? Yes? Ok here we go. If anyone is watching this I  probably did something stupid and I ‘m so sorry. If it’s Wanda hi babe. Man, I think it’s been 3 days and I miss you like crazy. I ‘m trying to figure out a way to get back to you and the babies I promise.” Wanda can feel the tears rolling down her face. “Well I think I have a plan. You aren’t going to like it but I promise you that it will all work out and I will come back to you. Babe I  don't have much time they are coming back. I  love you and our twins so much. I  am going to do everything to come back to you.” Then the screen went black.
“Play it again, Tony.” Wanda asked Tony and he did. She watched it about 10 more times. Just hearing your voice made Wanda feel better.
“Thank you for showing me that. Can you send it to me?” Wanda asked, keeping her eyes locked on yours on the screen. Tony nodded and Wanda walked out of the room back to the twins.
After that day Wanda had hope. She knew you would come back to her. She watched that video every night on repeat to fall asleep too. She played it for the twins and other videos of you so they could hear your voice. The team noticed the change in Wanda as well. They were very skeptical but didn’t question her mood change.
After a month of you being missing Wanda had almost given up hope. Tommy was fussy and Billy had an explosion in his diaper and it was the first time the team had all gone on a mission so no one was with her. She was crying while changing Billy’s diaper while using her powers to rock Tommy’s baby seat.
“Ah boys, it’s ok mamas here. We’ll be ok sh sh sh.” She was so frustrated she couldn’t even get the diaper on Billy. There were a few more minutes of Tommy crying and Billy and now Wanda before she heard Tommy stop. She didn’t even turn around; she figured he just fell asleep.
When she turned with Billy in her arms she was shocked to see the person standing in front of her. It was the love of her life with her son. A sight Wanda never thought she would see. You looked skinnier, tons of bruises and cuts littered your skin. Your clothes were tattered and your hair was a mess in your face. Wanda thought you still looked just as beautiful. She had Billy in her arms as she slowly walked towards you not believing her eyes. She reached up and touched your face to make sure you were there. And you were.
With Tommy in one hand you reached up with your other to place on top of Wanda’s. “Hey there stranger.” You said with a chuckle. She wrapped her arm around you and started sobbing. You put Tommy in the bassinet still holding onto Wanda then reached for Billy placing him next to his brother. Then you did the thing you had been wanting to do forever.
You held onto Wanda as she sobbed in your arms. You stroked her hair while whispering “I’m here,” over and over in her ear.
Your arms were around Wanda but your eyes were on your twins. You soon began to cry, realizing how much time you missed. Wanda pulled away when she felt something drip on her shoulder.
“It’s ok my love you’re here now. You won’t miss anything else. You’re here.” Wanda promised with her hands on either side of your face to make you look at her. You leaned down and gave your love a long awaited kiss. Both of you being grateful to have the other there to comfort each other.
You soon pulled away from Wanda to look at your twins.
“I told you two football players.” You chuckled as you picked up the other baby who you have not held yet. “Who is who?”
“That’s Billy and this is Tommy.” She said while picking up the other baby. You both made your way to the bed with the twins and got comfortable next to each other. You stared at them trying to take in the two people who were now your own.
“I’m so sorry I  missed all of it. I  tried to get back as fast as I  could. I  really did. I  thought when I sent Tony back it was going to be hours and I would be back. But I see metal man's mind isn’t what it used to be.” You rambled on. You wanted Wanda to know just how sorry you were.
“It’s ok. You’re here now and I’m not letting them take you anywhere. You’re staying with us for as long as I want.” Wanda assured you. You sat with your family for hours just basking in their presence and soaking it all in. You changed every diaper and did anything Wanda needed until she ordered you to go shower. While watching your 7th episode of grey's anatomy you dozed off with the babies between you and Wanda.
You only woke when you heard the rest of your rag tag group of friends enter the compound from their latest mission not even trying to be quiet. You turned to see Wanda still awake nursing Billy.
“Should we scare them?” You asked Wanda with a grin on your face. “You can if you want.” She didn’t feel one way or the other. Knowing how much the team helped her while you were missing.
You stood up and hid behind the closed door. It opened halfway.
“Hey Wanda how’d everything go?” Steve asked, you could feel multiple people enter the room however.
“Boo!” you jumped out to scare the team. Bucky not knowing it was you punched you in the stomach.
“Ah shit sorry y/n.” he said before recognition came to his eyes and the others. “Wait y/n?” he stared in disbelief. Nat was the first to tackle you in a hug before the others were soon to follow.
“How, how, how did you get back?” Tony asked with tears in his eyes.
“Well I  thought you would figure it out quickly once I  sent you back but that didn’t happen. I  kept waiting and finally decided to just do it myself. I  befriended another prisoner who promised to poof me back. And then when they did I  was in the training room. I  got Wanda’s text and just assumed she was still here and made my way up to her room.” They all said how happy they were that you were back. You ate dinner as a family and spent the night in your room with your beautiful wife and boys.
“Let’s go home tomorrow.” you suggested to your half asleep wife in your arms.
“You are my home.” she said and you felt warmth well up in your chest.
“I  love you so much darling.” you nuzzled closer to her.
“I  love you more.” and you both fell into a deep sleep which neither of you had had for a long time.
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rumblelibrary · 3 years ago
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*whispers* oh, hi!
can I request a little thing with Niki Lauda and his beautiful curls? Maybe Niki and the reader going on a roadtrip together and stoping somewhere for the night? 🥺👀
Bouncy Road Trip [Niki Lauda x Reader]
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Words Count: 1.6k
Author’s note: It is my first time venturing into Niki’s mind, I hope I did him and your request right ❤️
“Well, it seems a bit late to think again” he remarked, as always his character would strike, even with you.
You chuckled, too used to his antics to really get mad about it.The two of you decided to go to the next race by car, something easy, a road trip to get there directly, enjoy the city, the food, have time to study the car and the track while others are still enjoying the whole set of parties and interviews that followed the race that just ended.
“You were happy to miss Hunt’s drunk hugs” you told him and he responded with a little shake of his shoulders, a parody of a shiver.You came to the idea that he enjoyed to play this rivalry thing way more than he admitted. 
It was something that gave him an edge, something to joke about easily in order to keep his focus on the cars and the changes he wanted to do.You got into the car, you’d drive first because he was just out of the race and wasn’t up to do it again.You were hyped to do the road trip, to be together in such a small space, to be allowed to be so close for such a long time.
You put on your favourite radio station, settled comfortably your seat and wore your sunglasses.
Road trip mood: on.
The sad part was how Niki road trip mood was: nap.
He was rightfully tired after the race, after the nervous days that came before it, but you couldn’t help to feel a bit upset about it.It was typical Niki, reasonable priorities over feelings, he probably didn’t even suspect all those expectations you set up for such a small event.So you drove quality, enjoyed the music and the soft breeze, you looked at him from time to time as he snored lightly, his soft curls unruly moving over his face.
Focus, the road is ahead.
After a couple of hours you felt a warm hand cover yours changing the gear.
“If you want to kill this car you could just run into a tree and make it quicker” Niki grumbled sleepily straightening his posture cracking his neck from side to side.
“Where are we?” He asked as he picked the map rubbing his eyes with his hand as you pointed at it on the map and you smirked
“Good morning anyway sleepyhead” you said shaking your head lightly.Usual Niki.He studied the map silently picking a bottle of water you stacked on side to have a sip, his unruly curls bouncing lightly catching your eyes once more.
“You have seen the race, didn’t you?”You were surprised by the question “of course”
“Do you think he deserved it? Honest to God, I just need an honest opinion of somebody that is utterly deficient of keeping a car for good”
You let out a breathy chuckle staring ahead, it was a compliment and you knew it, it was just his way of complimenting you, to tell you that he knows you have no bias.
“I think he didn’t, but around the beginning he did got the best of your attention” you say after a moment “I mean, he provokes you always and your starts are always a bit off, you’re not in the right mind, I can see how you change along the race and then you show your true colours”
He listens and doesn’t add anything.Maybe you have offended him, maybe not, he rarely lets you know.“At the next gas station let’s stretch our legs a bit, I am hungry” he says and you nod quietly.
When at the station you went to the bathroom first as Niki brought a couple of sandwiches and some snack, along with more water.
“Liquorice, for real?” You ask him looking inside of the bag
 “So you can avoid smoking and pestering the car and your lungs” he groans back as he ate quietly looking at you.You look at him as there’s no aggression from him, it is just Niki worrying for your health, in Niki’s way.He is still upset about coming second, again. It was starting to rub him in the wrong way.
“You know, I have seen there’s this exhibition in the local museum, we should see that, on a free afternoon while the mechanics apply the changes you like, I read that the museums here are open until 10 pm in summer”
He looks at you and nods slowly  “Only if you play the guide”
“Sounds like a deal then” you smirk and he makes half of a smile, he is content.You move close to him as your hand moves toward those unruly curls that scream to be touched, but he stands up throwing the trash in the closest bin.
The second half of the drive before your stop at the motel is on Niki, but you can’t sleep. Sure you put on your sunglasses and got nuzzled on the passenger seat but you couldn’t look away from him, everything was perfect: from the relaxation of driving at a comfort speed to the engine singing for him, the smoothness of the drive made it feel unreal, like you weren’t even moving but you were only still. You moved up taking your book, you opened it up, it was a poetry book but one of your favourite female authors, you leaned your back comfortably as you started reading. Niki looked at you moving his beautiful long fingers over the radio lowering the volume.
“Read out loud”
You were surprised by such a request, but you did.He listened, he was passive but focused on those words letting those unroll over him.You could see his mind was feeling guilty, anger for losing soon turning into that quiet silence he pulled himself into, the guilty one.He had high standard for himself and for others, but on himself he was the hardest and, most of the times, the cruelest. 
The sun was going down and you put the book away staring at him once more, you leaned in, his eyes showing that sad frustration and your hand moved on its own mean over an action you have been craving throughout the day slowly reaching for his head and digging your fingers into his hair. A soft breath of relaxation left his lips, your fingers trailing through the bottom of his head just above his neck and up again.
He rolls lightly his shoulders not commenting your action, but he is clearly enjoying it. So you keep going, you brush your fingers slow and nice, you pull the curls a bit only to make more room to your fingers, you move your hand up on his temple and slowly scratch on the side of his temple going back into the curls.He licks his lips lightly relaxing over your attentions. The radio is still low, nobody is letting out a sound.
“Fuck”
He curses as he yanks the wheel suddenly and you almost get thrown on the back of the car by the sudden motion.He almost missed the exit to go to your motel.You settle yourself back in place quietly, bend down to recollect your book that flew on the car floor.
Once he parked Niki was the first to leave the car to collect your bags, you leaned your back on the seat staring in front of you nibbling on the bottom of your lip. Maybe it wasn’t the right moment, you never knew with Niki. Maybe you fucked it up.
Once you settled into your room you got some room service, the tv was on some old 50’s film in black and white, Niki digging on some chicken salad finally in his comfortable night clothes and a night vest.You were used to the silences, you were used to share those with him, but sometimes it was gutting, you kept wondering if you messed up. If you did something wrong or what was the thing you did wrong. Your own insecurities eating you alive. Once he finished his dinner you showered putting on some night clothing and resting on the big bed beside him as you watched the movie.Then he slowly moved down resting his head on your lap.He looked up at you from that position, the blue light of the screen the only source of illumination.You stare back at his eyes moving your head on side with a little smirk, it looks like somebody enjoyed it back in the car.
But you don’t tease him, you learned not to, and you just go back to that process. He closes his eyes enjoying it. Your hands also enjoying to be back to unruly those wild curls he always tamed, the freedom to be able to do something so simple and so intimate.
“You know I need you right?” He says softly, not even opening one eye, you keep touching his curls, but this time you let him be the one without confirms.He opened his eyes as he slowly looked up at you raising onto his arms.
“You’re my soft side, you’re the art and the beauty and the poetry. I cannot be that, I am not that, but you are, and you, you do me good, you do me better, make me better”
You smile, because he never speaks up, but when he does, he just blows you away.You lean in for a well earned kiss, your hand slowly slipping behind his neck as he pushes you down on the bed.
Tags: @cazzyimagines @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing
Let me know if anybody wants to be added and I will 💕
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fanimesenseiwrites · 4 years ago
Note
For Lucifer and Mammon and Beel how about: 1 moment that they assist MC when it comes to adjusting to Devildom or understanding something about it and 1 moment where MC does the same for them when they are in the human realm
Oh my god, this is such a great ask! Thank you for gracing my inbox with this! Unfortunately I could only think of stuff for in the Devildom so that's what I'm going to post, otherwise this will just sit in my drafts forever lol. If I ever come up with ideas for the human realm I'll write and post those too.
The brothers help MC out in the Devildom:
Lucifer:
"So... Diavolo's the only actual royalty, right?" MC asked, curiously.
"It's Lord Diavolo" Lucifer corrected them. "But yes. He is the only heir to the throne."
"Right, right, my bad. So where's the king?"
"He's asleep."
"Where?"
Lucifer sighed. "Why do you need to know?" He was already tired of all the questions, and he had a sneaking suspicion that MC had plenty more lined up.
"I'm just curious. Everything is new and strange to me."
"Well must you ask me all these questions?"
"I mean, I guess I don't have to ask you... I just thought you were the smartest out of all your brothers."
Lucifer allowed himself a small smirk at that stroke of his ego. "... what else do you want to know?"
MC grinned at him. "So I've heard you and your brothers be referred to as "rulers of hell" and sometimes "princes of hell" but if you aren't royalty...?"
Lucifer hummed as he thought about the best way to explain it. "Think of us as... nobility. Just as the British Monarchy up in the mortal realm gives noble titles to their heirs who would not take the throne, we have been awarded such titles by the king based on our strength."
MC nodded. "I see... I think I get it now. Thanks for answering my questions."
"You're welcome. Just be sure that your curiosity doesn't get you into trouble. You know what they say, "curiosity killed the cat," Lucifer's voice was just a little more threatening than it had previously been.
"But satisfaction brought it back," MC finished the quote, either not hearing the change in his tone or not caring.
Lucifer watched MC as they left his presence, and he just knew they were going to be a thorn in his side for the remainder of their stay.
Mammon:
MC was walking back to the House of Lamentation after extra study hours. They hadn't done so well on their last history test and they really needed to study so they could do better on the next one.
As MC walked home, they noticed a crow watching them and following them, but cautiously keeping their distance too.
MC smiled at the crow, then stopped and rummaged around in their backpack for something.
The crow watched them curiously.
MC pulled out a pack of crackers from their bag and broke a couple of them up and laid them on the ground before looking back at the crow.
"Those are for you."
The crow watched them cautiously as it slowly made its way to the crackers.
MC crouched down and watched the crow with a grin.
The crow ate some of the cracker and chittered happily.
"You're so cute," MC told the crow.
"Look at the loser human talking to a crow!" A passerby demon told his friend.
The crow squawked and flew away when the two new demons appeared.
MC sighed and stood up. "You didn't have to scare it."
"I wasn't trying to scare the crow."
The emphasis the demon put on crow scared MC, but they tried not to show it.
"Right... well, you two have a good night." MC started walking toward the house again.
The two demons jogged to catch up with MC and walked along either side of them.
"So where are you going all by yourself?" The demon who had scared the crow asked.
"I'm going to meet a friend, they're waiting for me a couple blocks up," MC lied, hoping their words would deter the pair of demons from doing anything to them.
The demon clucked their tongue. "You know, demons can tell when you're lying. I just heard your heart rate increase when you lied just now."
"And you absolutely reek of fear," the second demon spoke.
MC glanced between the two demons, now truly afraid for their life.
MC tried to run but the demons were far too quick for them.
They each grabbed one of MC's arms and the first one covered MC's mouth with his hand before they could scream. They dragged MC away from the road and into a secluded alley, before pinning them against a wall.
"Ya know, human flesh is a fun treat but the soul is where its at," the first demon spoke to the second.
"I agree, I guess we'll just have to share it," the second replied while grinning deviously at MC.
MC was so scared that they were shaking and tears were streaming from their eyes.
Suddenly, MC's attackers were pulled away from them and slammed into the wall opposite of them.
MC felt immediate relief at seeing that their rescuer had white hair.
Mammon growled harshly at the two demons, making sure they were well intimidated before asking, "What'dya think you're doing? Did ya really think the human exchange student was just walking around with no protection?"
"W-what are you going to do to us?" One of the demons asked.
Mammon hummed before tossing them to the ground. "Not shit."
"Really?" One of them asked as they got back to their feet.
"Yeah, I'ma just report ya to Lucifer and Lord Diavolo. They'll get more of a kick out of punishing ya than I will," Mammon told them as he rest his hands on his hips.
The pair of demons stared at him in horror.
Mammon fake lunged at them just to scare them. "Get outta here!"
The demons quickly ran away.
Mammon rolled his eyes and looked at MC. "Hey, are ya o-"
MC practically threw themself at Mammon, wrapping their arms around him in the process. "Thank you so much! I was so scared!" They sobbed.
"'Kay..." Mammon rubbed their back. "Calm down, everything's fine."
MC looked up at him. "How did you know I was in trouble?"
Mammon grinned before putting two fingers in his mouth and whistling loudly.
A crow flew down and landed on Mammon's shoulder.
"The crow!" MC cried happily.
Mammon reached up to pet its neck. "Yeah, they're my familiars. So that means I've always got an eye on ya!"
MC chuckled. "Well I guess that's a good thing."
"Yeah, but that don't mean you can be out walkin' around by yourself! Don't ever do that again! You call me to come get you next time, got it?!"
MC nodded.
"Good." Mammon grabbed their bookbag and threw it over his shoulder, the crow flew off when he did that. "C'mon, let's go home."
MC smiled slightly. "Okay."
They headed back to the House of Lamentation together, walking as close together as was comfortable.
Beelzebub:
MC sat in the cafeteria at RAD, and despite feeling hungry, they couldn't find the appetite they needed to eat the food in front of them.
Beel walked over and sat down next to them with his own tray of food.
MC looked up at him. "Hey Beel, do you want my lunch?"
Beel instantly perked up at the prospect of more food but frowned when they looked at MC's tray. "But you didn't even touch your food."
"Yeah, I'm not really hungry."
"... are you sick?" Beel tried to fathom the possibility of not being hungry.
"No... I just... I don't feel like I can eat this food. It's all so weird."
"Is it weird or just different?" Beel challenged.
"No, it's weird," MC told him flatly. "I mean half of the food has poison in the name and cheeses are aged for longer than I'll be alive and the scorpions are as big as lobsters! Also, who would eat a scorpion?!"
Beel frowned and almost pouted.
MC looked at him. "Oh shit, that was rude. I'm sorry..."
"... have you even tried a scorpion yet?" Beel asked tentatively.
"... no," MC admitted sheepishly.
"Well why don't you try it?"
"Can I eat it? Or will it kill me?"
Beel shook his head with a small grin. "Lord Diavolo adjusted the menu so nothing served here will kill humans."
MC nodded. "Well that's one less thing to worry about... but how do you eat the scorpion?"
"Some people like to eat exoskeleton, like me, but for those who don't they eat it like this." He snapped the tail off and sucked the meat out of it.
"Oh... that reminds me of eating a crawfish."
Beel nodded then cracked open the abdomen and pulled out the meat inside using a fork.
"Ya know, that actually makes a lot of sense."
"Now you try," Beel coaxed.
MC nodded and looked down at the scorpion on their plate, still feeling a little intimidated.
"You don't have to like it, just try it," Beel told them.
MC nodded and took a deep breath before snapping the tail off and sucking out the meat. "Hm... this is actually good."
Beel grinned. "I'm glad you think so."
With some encouragement and explanation from Beel, MC finished eating their lunch for the first time since they had arrived in the Devildom.
"Hey Beel?" MC asked as they walked to class after lunch was over.
"Hm?" Beel looked down at them.
"Could we go out after school today? I want to try more Devildom food with you."
Beel smiled at them. "I'd like that."
MC smiled back at him. "It's a date!"
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nessinborderland · 4 years ago
Text
Be Mine (01)
Pairing: Niragi x Reader
Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn't want an Alpha; you didn't need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.
Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
AO3 Link      Masterlist   
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You can't do it anymore.
You collapse on the ground as you turn a corner, legs giving up on you. Whatever breath you have left leaves your lungs as you hit the floor with a hard 'thud'.
You can hear them behind you, running and howling like a pack of wolves on a hunt.
You happen to be the prey.
You had been careful until now; walking mostly at night, making sure no one was around when you went scavenging for food, keeping distance from others during games, masking your natural scent with all sorts of perfumes. Just avoiding people altogether. 
You had no idea how you got there, but you knew that, as an unclaimed Omega, you would be more at risk than anyone else. Alphas were rare, but if one happened to find you, you couldn’t imagine it ending well for you. Even Betas were a risk, as most could also distinguish you from a regular Beta.
And here you are, proving yourself right. Running from him.
You had been careless. You were tired, always on edge, always hiding. So you ate your portion of stale cornflakes after another sleepless night and headed out from your hiding spot. Completely forgetting about masking your scent. 
Your visa was almost over. You needed to find a new game. And so you did.
You are regretting that now.
A loud laugh from not that far behind you gives you the encouragement you need to stand up and run. Just run. If he catches you, you're done for. If he catches you, you're his.
You can smell him. That strong, masculine, unrecognizable Alpha scent. His is so strong that it almost overwhelmed you when it first hit your nostrils, back at the game.
Six of Spades. That was the game you had gotten yourself into; kill the predator or be killed by the predator. In a zoo. 
How fitting, you had thought to yourself as you climbed a tree to escape an actual wolf. You had seen at least four different species of predators. All animals that you were completely unprepared to defend yourself against, never mind killing. Your hunting knife could only do so much. Fortunately for you, wolves couldn't climb trees.
But tigers could.
You had felt the big cat's eyes on you before you could even see him. All you had managed to do was let out a gasp and close your eyes as the huge orange beast pounced in your direction.
Gunshots. A heavy body falling to the ground. A wolf whimpering; that might have been you.
And then it hit you; that overwhelming, strong, musky scent.
You had opened your eyes and, no more than twenty meters from you stood a tall man, dressed in black. Eyes locked on you. You felt a shiver run down your back, and the hairs on the back of your neck rose; you weren't sure if in fear or something else.
The tiger was dead. The wolf had run away. But there was a new predator. And he was looking straight at you.
An Alpha.
You had no doubt about it. Betas didn’t smell anything like that, but Alphas...Alphas were made to lure you in. To let you know who they were. Alphas and Omegas were biologically connected. It was almost impossible to fight the urge to possess and be possessed.
And you no doubt had the same effect on him.
You noticed when he took some steps towards you and then stopped. You saw how his eyes had sparkled, his body language shifting to that of a predator. You hadn’t dared to move, waiting for his next move. You doubted he was going to shoot you, but the man did have a gun. Before the stranger could give another step, a lion had appeared right behind him, taking his focus from you and allowing you to escape.
That’s how you got into the position you are in right now; running from the man with the sniper rifle. You had managed to keep yourself hidden until the end of the game, but he had somehow found your scent and was tracking you down, together with his crew.
You stop again, taking labored breaths as you hide yourself the best you can in an alley. If life taught you anything about Alphas, is that they don’t give up until they get what they want. You would know; you managed to be unclaimed through all these years out of sheer spite for your biology, and determination. And a lot of pepper spray. 
You try to think of a plan, a way to get them to lose track, but you can’t think of anything. If he got your scent, he will find you eventually. That doesn’t mean that you will just get on all fours and wait for him to take you. If it depends on you he can hunt you till he’s dead. You won’t be some Alpha’s bitch.
You hear footsteps getting louder, together with the voices of the people pursuing you. You can smell him, getting closer and closer. You have to act fast. You spot a ladder on the side of a building and try to get it down, climbing on top of some trashcans for easier access. He won’t be able to track you as easily if you go up. The ladder is rusty and doesn’t budge, even when you desperately pull it with everything you got. With a last angry pull, the ladder finally releases, and you start climbing as fast as your tired legs allow you.
“Gotcha!” exclaims an excited male voice as you feel a hand grab your calf. Your heart almost stops. “Niragi, over here!”
You glance down at the man grabbing you before kicking him right in the face with your free foot. The man falls back, holding his now bleeding nose in his hands, and you take that moment to continue climbing. You want the most distance from that Niragi guy as you can.
You don’t look back even when you feel someone climbing after you. You have to keep going. It's only four stories high. You’re almost at the top.
A loud gunshot. Pain sparks in your leg and you scream, almost releasing your grip on the ladder.
“You fucking idiot, who told you to shoot her?!” a voice growls, followed by another gunshot. “I want her alive and unharmed! Whoever touches her dies!”
You dare to glance down, and you see the body of the man you had kicked just moments prior, now with a bullet hole in his forehead. Then you lock eyes with him; your predator.
He's looking at you with fire in his eyes; like he wants to eat you alive. Your body feels his glare more than your mind ever could, and a warm sensation pools at your center. You can't look away.
He can smell it; of course he can. You're now much closer than at the zoo, and you can see his face clearly. How pretty he is. How his nostrils flare and his eyes go dark; scenting you. You’re glad that at least you’re not in heat; it would have been game over for you before the game even started. 
"You know I'm gonna get you, right?" he says with a malicious grin, voice low.  "I'm gonna catch you, and I'm gonna make you mine."
His words bring you back to reality, and you take the last steps up into the roof, ignoring the laugh of the man below you.
"Run little wolf, run!"
You pull yourself up and run as fast as you can. You're pretty sure the bullet only grazed the skin, so you ignore the pain in your leg as you jump to the next building. You are lucky houses here are all so close to each other. You keep running, not daring to look back.
You can hear him running behind you, catching up to you, and your eyes start tearing up. Your lungs feel like fire and your legs are cramping; you can't go on for much longer. You prepare to jump when a hand grabs you by the wrist. His touch feels like electricity against your skin. You both gasp and his grip soften. The sensation is so surprisingly new that you lose your balance and trip, falling. For a second, you wonder if this is how you die; falling from a building while in that hellish place.
The next you’re wondering how can someone smell so unbelievably good. 
He smells like spices; it’s delicious. You are pressed firmly against his chest, his arms around your waist. You’re sniffing his shirt before you can control yourself. Never in your life had an Alpha’s scent been so strong and so alluring. You want to lick him; to feel his skin against your lips and his taste on your tongue. You feel his face on your hair like he’s burning your scent in his memory. You let out a needy whimper when one of his hands slid up your body to grab a boob, squeezing the soft globe in his large palm. His hands feel so good on you. Warm and big and pleasurable
“I said I was going to catch you, little wolf,” he whispers in your ear, hot breath making a chill go down your body. His tongue licks a long strip of your neck and you let out a moan. He chuckles. “Now you’re mine.”
No.
Those words make you gasp like you have been burned, and you push him away from you. You belong to no one. And it will stay that way; you rather be dead than be bonded to some random man. 
“D-Don’t touch me,” you say, a slight tremble in your voice. “Stay away from me.”
His eyes darken and you gulp, looking around. You’re trapped; no way you’re able to run more. But you can fight; you have your hunting knife, while he seems to have let go of the sniper he was carrying earlier. You still have a chance.
“Now, why the fuck would I do that?” he asks with a lopsided smirk. “I can smell how much you want me. How much you need an Alpha to fill you up and mark you.” he gives a step in your direction; waiting.
Waiting for you to fight back.
You wouldn’t want to disappoint. You reach for the knife strapped to your hip, but...it’s not there. You freeze, eyes wide.
“Looking for this?” he chuckles in your direction, your knife in hand. He’s taunting you; playing games. You take a deep breath and lock eyes with him. How did you not feel him steal your weapon? You can feel your anger building up. You’re tired, you’re hungry...you’re furious.
“Give it back!” you command, fists closed, “And I don’t want anything to do with you so fuck off!”
The smile on his face falls, substituted by a scowl. You can feel the anger radiating from him. That only makes you angrier; he has no right in feeling that way. You’re the one about to be taken against your will. You jump and try to grab the knife, but he’s faster than you, trapping you against his chest. 
His skin touching yours makes a wave of heat spread through your core once again, but this time you ignore it as best as you can. You feel him press himself against your backside; hard and warm. Your mind fogs and you release the grip you have on his forearm.
Maybe you could...just for a moment. Your wolf mind keeps screaming at you to accept what you were born to do; be a baby-making factory to some random man with high testosterone levels and ego issues.
The back of your head hits his face with a loud crack; you hope that was his nose breaking. You crouch to grab your knife, now on the floor, but he’s on top of you before you can even touch the handle. You both fall on the hard roof, struggling to get a hold of the damn knife first.
“Stop!” he has you pinned down on the cement, one hand holding your wrists down. You’re trapped; now without a chance of escaping. His other hand has your knife, now pressed to your throat. His eyes burn like coals and half of his face is covered in blood. You feel a little pride at the sight, even if the blood has stopped falling due to his Alpha healing. He presses the blade against your skin. “What the fuck are you trying to do?” there’s a hint of confusion in his question. “Do you know who I am?”
“Don’t care, didn’t ask.” You reply, struggling against his grip. The blade on your neck nibs your skin and you stop. “Do it. Kill me.” You know he will never hurt you to that degree. He was biologically programmed to protect you; he has to be fighting every instinct in his body to even be able to hold that knife against your neck. You notice how his hands are slightly trembling. “I dare you. Slit my throat; it’s the only way I’m leaving this roof with you.”
His eyes go wide for a second before he lets out a sudden laugh. He buries his face against your neck, and you feel the sticky blood get on your skin. You don’t dare to move or take more than a shallow breath; you’re too scared of losing control of yourself again. He continues laughing against your neck, and you have to control the urge to moan at the proximity.
“I knew you would be fun when you just kept running, but this-?” he presses himself against you, firm and warm. You shudder; you can feel your control slipping away. “Refusing me even when I’m this close? Touching you?” his tongue is on your pulse. “Kissing you?” 
“Please stop-”
“-Biting you?” his teeth graze the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. You cry out, instinctively pushing against him, neck at his disposal. The marking spot; if he bites you there while knotting in you, you’re bonded. Your wolf is screaming at you to let go and let him take you. You need him. You want him.
The wolf is out.
Your legs are around his waist before you can control yourself. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and you can feel the wetness growing in between your legs. You grind your core against his crotch, groaning in displeasure at the lack of skin contact. His lips take yours in a rough kiss, his tongue pushing against yours as he kisses you senseless. He lets go of your wrists to handle your body, one hand on your breast as the other slithers down to your shorts.
You whine when his fingers finally manage to reach your throbbing cunt. He smiles in the kiss as he starts playing with your clit. You moan and your hands fly to his hair, pulling on the soft strands; you want more of him. He bites your lip and you pull his face further against yours. He chuckles when his fingers enter you without warning, swallowing your cries with a kiss. You move your hips against his hand, wishing it was his cock instead.
Alpha, Alpha, Alpha.
“More,” you whine against his lips. “Please- Alpha, please.” 
He doesn’t answer. His hand leaves your pussy with a wet sound, and you cry at the void he left with only his fingers. He doesn’t break the kiss as he gets rid of your shorts, throwing them somewhere. Your panties soon follow, and you moan when the cold air hits your swollen clit. His fingers go back to your pussy, now playing with the slickness that sticks to your thighs, spreading it up and down your slit. His lips move to your neck, where he sucks the skin right above your pulse. You whine and he chuckles, teeth nibbling your skin.
The hand on your pussy rises, fingers glistening with your slick. His eyes glint when he sticks his tongue out, licking his fingers clean of you. You gasp at the sight. He moans like it’s the best thing he has ever tasted. 
“Fuck, you’re so sweet,” he says, lust-filled gaze locked on you. “So beautiful.” You blush at the praise, wanting more. You want whatever he has to offer you. His fingers go back to fucking your wet entrance, and you feel your eyes filling with tears; you want more, more, more.
“Alpha, I need you-” 
“Now this is more like an Omega,” you can hear his belt as he fumbles with his pants. You open your legs wider; hoping. “All wet and ready for me to take.”
You scream when he slides inside you, thick cock replacing long fingers. The feeling is unlike anything you have ever felt before. The Betas you fucked during your exasperating heats can’t compare. Nothing can. You feel so full. So deliciously filled to the brim. You never felt pleasure like this.
You moan as he roughly thrusts into you, moving your hips in time with his shoves. His cock touches all the right spots, and he feels even deeper every time he penetrates you. You can feel the pain as the cement floor grazes against your back and bottom, but that doesn’t matter; you have something more important to focus on right now.
“You feel so fucking good,” he grunts against your mouth. You clench around him at the praise and he moans, eyes rolling back. “Fuck, do that again- oh shit yes! Good girl. So good, all ready to be filled to the brim with my cum.”
“Yes, yes, I- I want you.”
“Say my name, Omega,” his tongue starts licking your neck. “Niragi,” he gives a particularly hard thrust, and you yelp. “Say it!”
“Ni-Niragi!” You feel the name on your tongue. You’ll say that name until your throat turns raw. “Niragi, fuck me harder,” you beg. “Knot in me- please, please.” He does as you say, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. You arch your back as his cock abuses your g-spot with every shove. You see stars behind your eyelids; if you knew how this felt earlier, you would’ve let him take you right there at the zoo where he saved you. 
Niragi, Niragi, Niragi. Alpha, Alpha, Alpha.
“It’s such a shame you’re not in heat,” he grunts with a hard slap to your ass. You shudder and slid your hand in between your bodies, wanting to touch more of his skin. “I would love to knot and mark you right here.” He practically rips your t-shirt in a rush to take it off, exposing your hard nipples to the cold air. He buries his head in between your breasts, latching onto a nipple like a starved man.” Fill you up till I was sure you’re pregnant with my pups,” he continues with a lick to your nipple. You moan and clench around him again. “Make sure that everyone knows who your Alpha is, who you belong to. And I will. This is a promise”
Yes, yes, yes. You want that. All of it. All of him.
You can feel your orgasm growing, pulling at your core like it’s about to explode. He feels it too, and the hand previously pinching your nipple goes to press on your clit, taking you closer to the edge. You can feel how close he is too, thrusts getting sporadic and breath getting heavier. You stare at his face, actually looking at him; his eyes are closed and his mouth is open in a moan. You notice the glint of the piercing on his tongue, as you do the ones on his face. You take in the detail of his pretty nose, the shape of his eyes, his plush lips. Half of his face is still dirty with blood. He’s beautiful.
You feel a weird emotion go through you; something your rational brain knows is strictly biological, not real. But the wolf one is howling in happiness, absolutely delighted. You pull his face to yours and kiss him hard, wondering if he feels the same. Part of you is scared he does; the other is terrified he doesn’t.
“Come for me, Omega,” he moans against your lips. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”
Your orgasm hits you like a truck. You lay there as it flows over you in waves, legs shaking and mouth open in a silent scream of euphoria. It’s like fireworks inside you, consuming you. You wonder if you lost your consciousness when you feel him come inside you, filling you with his cum. You had never let anyone come in you before. But, as the warm sensation spreads inside you, you realize you love it. You want more. You feel like you will die if he doesn’t do it again.
Most of his weight is on top of you as you both regain your breath. He’s still inside, and part of you doesn’t want him to ever leave. But your wolf had what she wanted, so you’re able to regain full control of your mind again, fog dissipating to be replaced by shame and anger. How could you have been so weak? Now it would be almost impossible for you to escape; you weren’t bonded ('yet', your wolf happily adds) but now you had a connection. If bonding was like a marriage, what you had done definitely counted as engagement.
He feels when your body tenses up, raising his head from your chest. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, waiting for your next move. 
“Was it that bad?” he asks after a moment. With a sigh, he kisses your breast before raising himself on his hands, one on each side of your head. He looks you straight in the eye for a beat, before sliding off of you with a hiss. You moan at the loss, especially when he stands up; you feel so cold without his warm body on you.
You don’t answer; he doesn’t look like he expects you to. Sitting up, you wince as you feel every pain your body has been ignoring until now. Part of your back and backside are covered in scratches from the cement floor; your cunt burns like it’s on fire, but now for a completely different reason, and your chest and neck are covered in fresh hickeys and small bites. Part of you feels like dying of shame, while the other is overwhelmed with joy by finally being marked by an Alpha. An uncomfortable feeling sits in the pit of your stomach.
You look around for your clothes, being surprised by your Alpha, no, Niragi, extending them in your direction. You take them with a mumbled 'thanks', doing your best not to wince as you get dressed. You feel his eyes on you, so you pretend he’s not there. You gather the courage to finally stand up, and his hands are supporting you before you can make a move.
His skin on yours feels again like a spark of electricity; only that now is familiar and, dare you say, wanted. You keep your eyes down as you stand up on wobbly legs, trying to ignore everything about him. But you can’t; not really. His scent is on your skin and hair; his cum is inside you and on your inner thighs. Even his blood is on your skin. 
After a moment of hesitation, you pick your knife from the floor; he doesn’t stop you. You feel like crying; this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. You’re just trying to do your best to survive while being completely alone. And now this. 
A sob erupts from you with such strength that you feel him jump next to you. You hide your face in your hands as you sob uncontrollably, tears streaming down your face. Your mind is a mess, everything hurts and you’re so, so tired. You miss home, you miss your family, you miss your bed. You need a nap.
“Oh fuck, did I hurt you?” you hear the slight panic in his voice as he gets closer. “Tell me, what did I do?”
You shake your head and take several steps back; you need as much distance from him as possible. You turn to leave, a still defiant part of you daring him to stop you. As you expect, he’s on you before you can take more than a couple of steps.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” his tone is angry and confused. “You’re coming with me.”
“N-no.” you manage to say, sobbing. “I’m not go-going with you anywhere.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he grabs your hands, forcing them down so he can stare into your eyes. “You’re mine down, don’t you feel it in you?”
“We- we are not bonded,” you remind him. Remind yourself, “I- I can still leave.”
His eyes wide in an incredulous expression, like your words are the stupidest, most ludicrous thing he has ever heard. “Are you out of your mind?” he asks in a raised tone, “Do you actually think I’m gonna let you go?
“We don’t know each other!” you scream in his face. “I never- I never wanted this to happen,” your last words are barely audible as you keep crying. “We’re just two strangers forced together by something beyond our control.” 
You whimper when you feel him hesitantly touch your shoulder, before pulling you against his chest. You mumble a 'no' in-between crying gasps and lightly struggle against his grip; you have to get away from him. He ignores you, one arm going around your waist while the other awkwardly pats your head. You finally give up when you feel his lips on your temple, whispering something you can’t quite understand. Whatever he’s doing, it calms you down. 
You stay in his arms for some time. You hate how much you enjoy it; how safe he makes you feel. He killed one of his own, for goodness sake. You know nothing about him.
“Let me tell you something,” he says against your forehead. “I am not...a good person. I’ve done a lot of bad shit, and I will keep doing so. But if you come with me, I promise I will keep you safe.”
“I-.”
“Be mine,” he says. It sounds like a command until he adds a 'please', almost as an afterthought. “I don’t understand why you keep fighting, but I know you want me, even if part of you doesn’t know it yet.”
You let out a loud sigh; you’re tired of fighting with yourself. You review your options; go willingly or go by force. If you know one thing is that he won’t let you go. Quite possibly never. If you’re honest with yourself, a part of you doesn’t want him to. You don’t even know which one of you is talking; the human or the beast? Does it even make a difference?
You don’t think it does. Not anymore.
You raise your head to lock eyes with him. You can see hope in his gaze, but you also see determination and desire. You’re his now. And he’s yours.
“Okay,” you finally say. His eyes spark with something akin to satisfaction. “I’ll go with you. But I have some rules.”
He smirks, teeth spotted with blood, and you wonder for a moment if you made the right choice. “Sure,” he says. As long as you’re mine.” 
Next Chapter
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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years ago
Note
I’m not sure if you have something planned for this already but wouldn’t it be the height of irony if Tooley got monched on by a starved Chris when he forgot to drug him? Just opens the door and whoops! He eaten!
CW: Whumper death, drunkenness, some dehumanization, blood drinking, bit of gore, vampirism, some very light catholicism
-
New York City, 1936
KING EDWARD VIII ABDICATES THRONE British Monarch to Wed American Socialite Wallis Simpson
Tooley kicks at the sodden, half-frozen newspaper stuck to his shoe, grunting with the effort it takes to dislodge it. His hands are buried deep in the pockets of his thick woolen coat, and he ignores the envious stares of others whose threadbare outfits are patched, whose gloves are little more than rags wrapped around their not-quite-frostbitten fingers.
Instead, he pulls his scarf up higher, tucks his chin beneath its knitted warmth, and finally manages to send the scrap of paper with its water-stained black-and-white image of a stern-faced soon-to-be ex-king and his Baltimore lover into the street, where it sticks in a puddle and soaks clean through.
The old-timers say a heavy rain is coming, citing their aching joints and bones. It's been a wet winter already, and the absolute last thing New York needs is more rain.
Tooley plans to be holed up in his nice warm little house for the whole of it. He's sold three paintings in a month, and he can spend the next few weeks on the next one until his hands want to drop right off his wrists without having to distract himself with petty concerns like money.
The liquor bubbles warm inside him, and even with the frigid air he's broken a sweat along his back, trickling to his waistband, almost a tickle. He stumbles a little, catches himself, coughs out a laugh as the cold air burns deep into his lungs. It can't penetrate the hazy heat of the drink, though.
Mel's always has the best whiskey, and Tooley has the green these days to pay for the very best indeed. He's spent what might be a whole month's pay - if he weren't the luckiest artist in New York - in a single night.
You might say he's made a deal with the devil.
He pulls the brim of his fedora down, shielding his brow from the bit of freezing moisture speckling his cheeks. He struggles not to giggle like a child.
"Got a bit to spare for a hungry man?" A rasping voice calls out from an alley as he passes. "Help me feed my family, sir? I'm out of work, sir! Got three little ones with hungry bellies!"
Tooley ignores him.
There are crowds like that everywhere these days, always pressing for help, for a little something more and more and more. Men out of work, men in bread lines, women with tired faces and sad children. He's had just about enough of it.
They're calling it a depression, and he finds the term apt enough, considering it seems the whole country's been tumbled into a hole and can't find its way out.
He'd take his muse to Europe and paint there if it weren't for the echoing tension that bleeds over across the sea. Every nation he's idolized for their arts is trying to posture at each other. Rattling sabers while the people sigh heavily and keep washing their laundry, like always.
Tooley was a child when the Great War tore his own family apart - losing an older half-brother to the pointless trenches, a father to the mustard gas that ate his lungs to pieces, a mother to her desperate, sharp grief at her husband and stepson's loss.
The War had rendered him alone in the world before he was even twenty, though he'd been too young to hardly understand it and it had had nothing to do with him.
Wars were for rich men to send poor men to fight in, and Tooley is hoping to have enough wealth to maybe just float right past a new one, if the rumors beginning to swirl came true and Europe is going to erupt. Surely, though, no one would let a second war as horrible as the last happen.
Surely not.
Still, even so, he can simply disappear if they try to call him up to fight. He has no one left to lose, after all. No one to fight for, no one to care for. No one but his pretty little model, all locked away, his to keep.
Tooley takes a sharp left and the streets begin to change from the harsher gray of the city proper into neighborhoods, houses crammed tightly together. It's not the best part of town - Tooley's parents weren't the wealthiest, and he doesn't live like a gentleman, he's got no need to, it's not how he thinks a proper artist should live anyway. Have to keep up the image of the nearly-starving creative genius, after all.
There are still lights in some windows, despite the late hour. Tooley isn't the only one drunk at midnight and still moving.
It's a mile or so from the start of his street to where his house is nestled between two others, close enough he could reach out his kitchen window and touch the brick of the home next door. He smiles a little. His nose aches with the cold at the tip of it, but that's nothing to worry himself over.
He's home.
It takes him four tries to unlock his front door, the key jabbing into wood and brass too far to one side or the other. He laughs, breath puffing white clouds into the air, his ears burning with the cold where his hat doesn't quite cover them.
Good thing he's not with a woman, tonight, if his aim's so bad with just his hands.
The thought makes him laugh harder, nearly a guffaw, loud enough that he's sure he's woken a neighbor or two. It's not the first time.
Finally, the key slides home and the lock clicks and Tooley moves inside. The house is chilled in the entryroom, but as he slides his coat and fedora off to leave them on the coat rack and moves into the kitchen, towards the back, he can feel the warmth slowly trickling from the ticking radiators along the walls.
He's due for a coal delivery in the next couple of days, and boy, he's going to need it with the weather the way it's been.
Tooley heads for his perfect little secret, the vampire held in the backroom, once a sort of servant's bedroom for some family that had owned the home even before his own parents did. It's his studio, now, and the place where the little vampire boy is kept.
He unlocks that door, too. A key, a deadbolt, a little sliding lock at the top for added safety.
"Here, kitty kitty kitty," He slurs, and laughs again, delighted at his own little joke.
There's a scrape and a rustle, and Tooley steps back to let the vampire boy move forward, out of the freezing unheated room - Tooley only turns the radiator on in there when he himself is working, it's not like dead things care about being warm after all - and into the kitchen proper, with its little two-person table.
The boy is looking dirty - he's due for a bath, long overdue honestly. Good things he doesn't sweat enough to stink.
His hair hangs lank in his eyes, closer to dark copper than the new-penny shine Tooley prefers. There are smudges along his cheeks, marring his perfect freckles. He's draped in a sweater patched badly where his elbows have worn holes right through, pants that are tied with a rope since Tooley sure isn't going to waste money on a belt for a corpse.
"Is, did, did you, um, did you bring me food?" The vampire boy looks up at him, eyes glinting a little in the dimness, that unsettling cat-like glow-in-the-dark effect. His little fangs flash, too. "I'm... I'm, I'm hungry, Tooley."
"I know you are, bloodsucker."
"It's, it's been, um, it's been weeks, Tooley-"
"I know, I know. Shut your trap." Tooley ruffles his hair, then pulls his hand back with a grimace as he remembers how dirty and greasy it's gotten, walking away to go to the sink and wash his hands. "We'll get t'that. I met with someone very important at th' bar tonight, and first things first, you and I are going to celebrate."
The boy moves slowly, staying half-crouched - he's been hit before, when Tooley didn't want him to stand all the way up. He settles himself against the wall, head tilted to the side. His cheekbones cut sharp angles in his face, edging down to his narrow chin.
Those big green eyes follow Tooley everywhere he goes.
"Celebrate what?" He asks, and Tooley wonders just how old the ridiculous little thing is. He'd said early aughts, hadn't he, on when he was turned? So he'd be, what, in his forties really?
Funny.
Was he locked up during the Great War?
He's still a pretty teenager, but he's probably closing in on fifty. Tooley's twenty-some years younger and looks infinitely older, in his own estimation.
Tooley should look into vampirism, seems an excellent way to hold onto your looks, doesn't it? He wonders if the boy knows how to turn him. They could make beautiful work forever...
Hm.
Something to ruminate over when he's hungover in the morning.
"New commission. I'm taking a few weeks off, give us both a break, but I've got the basic details. I'll pick up a broad, get her all set up for modeling, we'll make us a mint, sweetheart." He moves to the counter, picking up the half-full bottle of gin he keeps there, taking a swig and grimacing, coughing. There's a rattle in his lungs these days he doesn't like much.
"You'll, you'll kill her?" The vampire watches him. He looks hungry, with all those sharp lines emphasized, as though he were a painting himself still in progress, with the outline still written in graphite showing through the colors. He's pale, painted in wash, not yet turned to vivid velvet intensity with oils.
"'Course. You think any of my models would stay alive anywhere near you?" He laughs at the very idea, missing the vampire's little flinch as he turns away. He pulls a loaf of bread from the breadbox, already starting to stale but that's all right, he's going to toast it over the stove anyway. The world swims around him from the liquor, and he catches the counter with one hand to keep himself upright.
The feeling brings another laugh out of him.
The little vampire smiles faintly in echo of it. He has to work to get the stove to gas, narrowing his eyes as it struggles, sputters, before finally a little flame flares up. Just enough to give off a little heat for the toast.
"Fuck. Drank too much. Or not enough." He laughs again, and pulls a knife from the knifeblock, the sharp serrated thin blade best for slicing through the heavy sourdough he buys from a woman down the block. Bit of toast, pat of salted butter, that'll get him through to morning when he can head down for eggs and bacon at Paulie's diner.
Maybe he'll even buy some extra for the hungry men who hound around the doors. He can be a philanthropist.
As he slices, the knife slips off the stale, hard crust and cuts right through the back of his hand, a long line immediately welling with bright red blood. He groans, irritated, and sets the knife down, turning to run cold water over it as the pain flares bright, but slightly muted from his drunkenness.
There's a rustle behind him, and Tooley's mind only belatedly begins to allow alarm to trickle through the warm fuzz of the gin and whiskey. He slowly turns around.
Where the vampire boy had been curled against the wall, a bundle of skinny bones and too-big clothes, there's... nothing.
Tooley glances to one side and sees the boy crouched on the floor by the edge of the lower cabinets, his hands pressed into the ground. He moved five feet in less than a second.
His eyes are flared, wide and with pupils burying the iris in black. He clicks, softly, tongue against teeth in an inhuman way.
Click-click-click-click.
click-click-click.
How'd he move so fast?
"Shit," Tooley whispers. "When's the last time I fed you?"
The vampire doesn't answer, only stares, unblinking, muscles tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing. He clicks again.
His lips pull back from his teeth and those fangs that seem so cute and little on every other day suddenly look long, like daggers, dripping a shimmering venom to the ground.
Tooley tries not to blink, too, but his eyes dry and dry and dry and eventually he can't help it. His eyes close, a fraction of a second, and flare open right away.
Not fast enough.
The vampire leaps and Tooley grunts at the impact of the small bony body against his own, his lower back smacking into the line of the counter with a flash of pain. The bread and knife both clatter to the ground.
Panic comes, but it doesn't help. He's still groping to get at another knife when the vampire's fingernails dig into his scalp, grip into his hair and jerk his head to the side to bare his throat.
"Hungry," The vampire boy hisses. "Hungry, Tooley. Hungry."
"I-I know, just, just don't blow your wig, gimmee a minute, I can get you something, just hold on-" Tooley's voice is thin from the harsh angle his neck is being held at, and he swallows, seeing in a bleary haze the way the vampire's huge eyes are focused on the movement of his adam's apple, the bob of his throat.
Can he see the blood pulsing there?
He puts his hands up against the vampire's chest to try and push him off, but it's like pushing against rock. He thinks about painting the vampire as a kind of young Prometheus for a dandy from Boston, tied naked to a rock to be pecked at by eagles, and wonders if the mythological man ever tried to push the rock itself, and if it failed as miserably for him as it does for Tooley now.
"There's blood in the shed out back, just let me go and I'll grab it for you." He pitches his voice soothing and slightly patronizing, like speaking to a whining dog. "Okay, kitten? Just two minutes and you'll be fed, right as rain."
The vampire pauses, hesitates, and Tooley feels his hands working at Tooley's hair and one shoulder, like a cat kneading into your lap before they settle. His little stray. His breathing starts to ease, his heart to slow down, the first rush of panic subsiding.
The world still spins a little, but the rush of adrenaline is settling things into something more solid, wiping away the liquor.
"I'll put you back in your room and go get it for you, it's right outside, good and cold," Tooley coos, and realizes too late it isn't what he should have said.
"There's blood right here, and and and, and, and it's living," The vampire boy says, eyes wide and inhuman, and he's absolutely gorgeous. "Your, your, yours is hot."
Tooley would paint him like this, all feral instinct overwriting the living corpse of an anonymous Irish immigrant who died dozens of years ago. A metaphor, maybe, for the way some of the children who come here lose all their European culture and get boorishly American, and-
The vampire bites down, and all thoughts of art and culture flee from Tooley's mind.
The liquor holds off the pain so long the venom hits before he even feels the way those sharp teeth have breached his skin. He goes limp, dropping in a heap to the floor. He thinks he hits his head on the loaf of bread before it knocks into the floor.
They feel about the same level of hardness.
The knife is right next to his head, lying there, shining in the yellowed lamplight, with its carved wooden handle.
All he has to do is move his hand a few inches to reach it.
Just a few inches.
He tries, desperately, to tell his fingers where to go.
The vampire sucks hard at the wound in his neck, pulling blood from his veins like a man drinking an egg cream after a long hot day's work, and Tooley groans. He can feel the press and pull without the pain, and it's the strangest thing he's ever felt. Stranger than those he's gone to bed with.
The venom makes his limbs feel like stones, weighed down to motionless. He struggles even to swallow saliva, to take a deep breath. His heart never races again with panic. He isn't able to feel it any longer.
Those sharp little fingernails dig hard into his shoulders, the weight of the vampire settled on him, straddling him. A little flirty thought - at least buy me dinner first - makes its way across his mind, barely coherent, slow as molasses.
The vampire starts up his soft rumble, the vibration filtering in through into Tooley's body. It seems like it makes him feel even more frozen, heavy as the ocean and weightless at once.
His eyes are on the ceiling, and he realizes how long it's been since anyone cleaned the corners where cobwebs have grown and grown. They need swept away.
Funny how he never noticed before. Too busy with his art.
There's a moment where Tooley is surprised to look down at himself, as if he's floating somewhere near the ceiling staring down at his own open eyes. When he needed not to blink, he couldn't stop himself, but now the body he is looking at just stares and stares and stares, unseeing, unblinking, unbreathing-
Oh.
As soon as the realization hits, Tooley's awareness of himself as a body he can observe is gone.
There is darkness, and then a point of terrible final light. He feels the grasping of bloodied hands.
And he's gone.
The vampire drinks until the blood stops pumping, until the heart beneath his kneading hand is still. Then a rough tongue laps at the wounds, finding the last few droplets there that still sing with life.
The vampire pulls back, skin flush with life, no longer white as snow. His freckles stand out, scattered like constellations of stars over his skin. The dead man beneath him has all the paleness he had before, they are switched, swapped death for life.
He wipes the blood from around his mouth and looks slowly upwards, breathing in deep gulps he doesn't need but which feel so, so good.
He moves to the stove, to turn it off, but he doesn't quite turn it off all the way. An odd smell fills his nose and the vampire's nostrils wrinkle, but he doesn't know what the scent is, and he simply pulls Tooley's coat on before he leaves, door unlocked.
A few minutes later, a man with his hands over a barrel fire looks up to see a redheaded teenager in a woolen coat far too large for him move under a streetlamp, pausing to look up at it as if surprised by how bright its light is.
He blinks, and the man squints.
The young man's mouth is open, as if scenting the air by letting it roll over his tongue. Before the man can quite understand what he is looking at, the boy's mouth closes and he turns to look at the man. As his eyes shift from being lit by the lamp to draped in shadow, though...
They glow.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," The man whispers, crossing himself hurriedly. "Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle, b-be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil-"
The boy looks right at him, head tilted. The flames of the barrel flicker, hissing a little when raindrops start to fall. His lips pull back from his teeth and there are an animal's fangs there, plain as day.
The man feels pure horror at the sight of a demon walking free and unfettered in New York City. He grabs at the cross he wears around his neck and holds it out, his voice trembling. "May G-God... rebuke him, we humbly pray-"
"I, I, I hope that works for you," The boy says, and his voice is soft, and there's almost a lilt of the old country there that the man recognizes, not quite his own but not far off. "It never d-did for, um, for me. Don't worry. I'm... I'm full. You're, you're, you're in no danger from me. When, when, when, when... when did you come here? To this place?"
The man swallows around a lump in his throat, and yet he finds himself compelled to answer honestly. "Two years past, give or take. Came with m'wife and baby girl."
"From where?"
"... Kerry," He says, against his will. He can't seem to hold back the words. "And my wife grew up in County Cork."
The boy smiles, and his horrid teeth disappear when his lips press together. He looks for all the world like any other young man, a bit skinny perhaps and in need of a good meal or three, but no danger to anyone.
But the man has seen the demon that he is, and he finds himself grateful for the fire between them and the cross still in his hand, the shield of St. Michael and the cloak of Christ Himself.
"My, my, my, my parents were from County Cork," The demon boy says, lightly. His lilt is slightly stronger. "Wonder if we're cousins, your your wife and I. Maybe so. Stay home, um, after dark. Don't, don't, don't work when the sun is, um, is down."
The boy turns and walks away.
The man realizes with a start that in the midst of a chilly December night, the boy's feet are utterly bare. He steps over ice like he could walk on water.
There was blood smeared on the back of his coat.
The man flinches as he hears a sudden boom, close enough that he feels it in his chest as well as hearing the sound. A moment later a woman runs by shouting that a house has caught flame, to call for help.
The man looks back at the way the boy went.
He's gone.
-
@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @endless-whump @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump
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tyongxnct · 4 years ago
Text
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒂𝒚 𝑰 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒀𝒐𝒖 - 𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑱𝒆𝒏𝒐
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pairing: Jaemin x reader, Jeno x reader
special guest: /
summary: Jaemin was everyone’s dream. He was the perfect boyfriend, someone you’d want to introduce to your parents. Your friends were jealous but they didn’t understand you. They didn’t understand how bad you felt in your relationship with Jaemin. They didn’t understand that you missed Jeno. Even thought Jaemin was perfect, you missed Jeno. You missed his love, you missed the fights and you missed making up with him. Your heart will always belong to Lee Jeno.
song: the way I loved you - Taylor Swift
genre: exes-to-lovers!au, angst
warnings: mention of sex, this is a SEQUEL to my story WE DON’T TALK ANYMORE
word count: 3.7k
A/N: thank you for resquesting this song! I hope you enjoy this sequel of we don’t talk anymore 💖💖
taglist: @aesthetichrj​ @bvbyxuxi
this is fiction!​​
© tyongxnct on all platforms
He is sensible and So incredible and All my single friends are jealous He says everything I need to hear And it's like I couldn't ask for anything better
He opens up my door And I get into his car And he says, "you look beautiful tonight" And I feel perfectly fine
Your relationship with Jaemin was great. No, it was perfect. He was perfect. Jaemin was the perfect boyfriend, everyone’s dream. The way he cared for you, the way he was always there for you, everyone you knew was jealous of your perfect relationship with Jaemin.
You understood them. Who wouldn’t want a boyfriend who was an absolute gentleman, your parents loved him and he was an incredibly good friend. And he was your boyfriend. He was yours, you were his.
Perfect, right?
Jaemin took you on dates at least four times every week, he bought you flowers every time, even though you told him not to, because you had no space in your apartment anymore and the poor flowers died because you couldn’t keep them alive, you were always bad with flowers and plants.
He didn’t care, he wanted to shower you with flowers, chocolate, presents, kisses, and hugs. Jaemin wanted to buy you the world, he wanted to give you everything and so much more, you deserved it so much in his eyes, all of the love he could give to you, you deserved it.
Another day another date.
Jaemin picked you up and he couldn’t take his eyes away from you, he never could.
“Babe you look absolutely gorgeous tonight. No scratch that, you look gorgeous every night. Are you sure you are human?”
And the whole night he kept on complimenting you, at first your heart fluttered and you got shy and happy. But after months of hearing the same things over and over again, you didn’t feel special anymore. You didn’t feel like wearing something pretty, he was going to tell you how gorgeous you looked anyways.
The worst part was when he told you how perfect you were on your period, you almost exploded. You were so angry, you felt so disgusting and ugly and he kept on telling you that you were perfect.
You didn’t feel like it and you knew that you looked like a witch with your messy bun, sweatpants, and your hoodie. Your mouth covered in chocolate, you felt like absolute shit, and he was there standing and telling you that you looked perfect.
But you didn’t want to feel perfect every single day.
It sound weird but it’s exhausting.
You didn’t want to hear those compliments every second of your day, you wanted to feel special but you didn’t feel special anymore.
And that was your breaking point.
You loved Jaemin, you were happy with him, you never fought, you never had a disagreement, he always agreed with you on anything. It was almost like Jaemin had no opinion.
“Where do you want to go tonight?” he asked you as he smiled brightly at you.
“I don’t care. Can’t you choose for once?” you watched the cars driving past you.
“Babe, you know that I eat everything, I’m fine with anything you want.”
“McDonald’s.” you just wanted your fries and go home.
“McDonald’s? But it’s date night babe?”
“Then choose yourself! You asked me and I gave you an answer!” you blurred out without thinking. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to yell-“
“You’re right though babe, McDonald’s it is!” he was still smiling at you even though you just yelled at him?
Sometimes you wished he would just scream at you and get angry, hell you would thank him for screaming at you, but he never raised his voice at you. Never.
You ate silently your burger and Jaemin held your hair back. “You eat like a little baby.” He giggled.
You ignored him.
“Babe you spilled some sauce on your hoodie.”
“Love, are you still hungry? Do you want me to get you a happy meal?”
“My pretty baby looks so cute with sauce on her lips.”
You were too tired to think of ways to stop him from babying you. You ignored him the whole way back to your apartment but he kept on talking and talking. You shouldn’t be bored, but you were. You were so tired of the same stories and words. You didn’t even notice that you fell asleep until Jaemin softly woke you up. Without giving him a goodbye kiss or asking him to come up, you just said bye and left his car.
You couldn’t really talk to your friends about your situation with Jaemin. They looked at you as if you were a mad woman.
“Are you crazy? Jaemin is a sweetheart, he is so handsome and a gentleman. How could you get bored? I could listen to him all day long.” Your friend said.
“Why don’t you date him then?” you hissed at her, you were annoyed that she spoke so highly about your boyfriend, back in the days, when you were with Jeno, she also tried to get into his pants but Jeno was always faithful to you.
“Honey! I don’t mean it like that, I mean, did you forget how Jeno treated you? Look at Jaemin, he treats you like a queen, he loves you so much. I’d kill to get a boyfriend like him.”
Your friends kept talking about how perfect Jaemin is and you were just sitting there with them, trying so hard not to explode. They didn’t understand you, nobody did. Jaemin is perfect, you know that, but your heart doesn’t want perfect.
But I miss screaming and fighting And kissing in the rain And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name You're so in love that you act insane And that's the way I loved you
Breakin' down and coming undone It's a roller-coaster kinda rush And I never knew I could feel that much And that's the way I loved you
You watched Jaemin sleep next to you. His pretty face looked beautiful in the moonlight. Everything about Jaemin was beautiful and great, but your mind was still on something else.
Or on someone else.
You turned your back to him, you felt ashamed that you thought of another man while your boyfriend was right next to you, but no matter how hard you to tried to push him off your mind, he always found a way back. Jeno always found a way back. It was two a.m. and you hated it that he was on your mind every.
You missed it, you missed your relationship with Jeno.
You missed loving him and being loved by him.
You missed yelling and screaming until both of your lunges hurt, because in the end his love was always stronger than his words to you.
You missed fighting with Jeno because you felt alive whenever he came back apologizing, you felt even more loved whenever he tried to tell you that he was sorry and how much he loved you. You saw it in his eyes that no fight was worth giving up your relationship, until he really went too far and you had enough.
But was it worth it?
Was breaking up with Jeno really worth it?
There was so much passion in your relationship, so much adrenaline and powerful love, so much lust and desire.
Your relationship with Jaemin was almost just one sided. He loved you, he bought presents for you, he kissed and hugged you, he fucked you, he was there for you.
It’s not like you just let him, you tried. You really tried to be a perfect girlfriend for perfect Jaemin, but he never let you. He never lets you do anything for him, he told you to let him do anything for you. But you couldn’t live like that, you couldn’t just sit back and let him have a relationship on his own.
Jaemin told you that he wanted to spoil you, since your breakup with Jeno was so hard, but it’s been months and you weren’t the broken girl you were before, you were ready for a new relationship, you were ready to do anything for Jaemin, but in the end you were just bored and angry.
Jaemin treats you like a little baby, whereas Jeno treated you like a woman. A strong, sexy, independent woman. And you loved it, you loved your dynamic with Jeno. You loved the fire in your relationship, you loved everything about your relationship.
Your relationship with Jeno was a rollercoaster and your relationship with Jaemin is plain and simple.
You love Jaemin, but you would never love him the way you loved Jeno.
He respects my space And never makes me wait And he calls exactly when he says he will He's close to my mother Talks business with my father He's charming and endearing and I'm comfortable
You visited you parents with Jaemin. They told you they missed him and wanted you to come over and Jaemin was hyped to meet you parents again. They loved Jaemin, he was the ideal son-in-law, the ideal man for their daughter and of course, he wasn’t Jeno.
Jaemin helped your mother with dinner and he helped your father in the garden while you were in your old childhood room going through your old memories.
Memories of Jeno and you.
Jeno and you on your first date.
Jeno’s cute love letter for you (he hated it whenever you talked about it, he was so embarrassed about it).
And many of your anniversaries.
“Babe! Dinner is ready!” Jaemin softly knocked on your door and scared you.
“Shit! My heart.” You held onto your heart, he scared the shit out of you.
Jaemin was watching you wallow in memories for a couple minutes until he decided to wake you up from your daydream. He saw the pictures of you and Jeno in your hand and he was hurt. Jaemin knew that you were thinking about him non-stop, but he hoped that your love for Jeno would fade away and you’d move on and love Jaemin just like Jaemin loved you.
He’d give you more time if you needed, he’d wait for you, he’d give you as much space as you need to sort out your thoughts and feelings.
“What are you doing? What’s that?” he asked you as he saw the letter and the pictures in your hand.
“Oh it’s nothing… important,” you put the pictures and the letter back to their place. “Let’s go downstairs, I don’t want the food to get cold.” You faked a smile.
You didn’t say a word, you just ate and half listened to your family talking with Jaemin.
“What do you say Y/n?” your dad said.
“Huh? What?”
“What do you say to moving in with Jaemin. I really don’t like you staying all alone, and we trust Jaemin enough to live with you and care for you.”
Jaemin saw the frown on your face. “Dad-“
“Sir, I think we shouldn’t rush. I know Y/n, and I know that she needs her own safe place. Everything is perfect right now, we don’t need to live under the same roof, I care for your daughter anyways, but like I said, we should wait a little more.” he smiled at you and you secretly thanked him for saving the situation.
Jaemin knew that you weren’t ready to take the next step in your relationship, he knew that you needed a place just for yourself, a place you could go to whenever you wanted to be alone.
“Alright son, it’s your decision.”
After dinner you helped your mother cleaning up the kitchen and Jaemin and your father went back to the garden, talking about Jaemin’s work.
“I’m so glad you’re not with the other guy anymore.” Your mother said as she watched her husband and Jaemin from the window.
“He has a name mom.”
“As If I say his name ever again,” she huffed, “After what he did to you, after how he treated our little baby daughter-“
“I’m not a kid anymore mom, and don’t talk about Jeno like he killed me, we had arguments like any other couple. Any other normal couple.” You and Jaemin weren’t a normal couple, you were far from that.
“Are you defending him now? Did you forget how much you cried when you came to us after your breakup?”
“Maybe it was a mistake to break up with him.” You mumbled to yourself.
“What did you say honey?”
“I said, maybe it was a mistake to break up with him!” you admitted to your mother.
“What? Don’t tell me you miss him? Look at him,” she pointed at Jaemin, “You have a perfect boyfriend, Jaemin is someone you should love and marry.”
“Oh god mom, you don’t get it. Nobody get’s it. Seriously, if you all think so highly about Jaemin why don’t you go and marry him and leave me alone?!”
You left the kitchen angrily and made your way to Jaemin and your father.
“It’s late, we should go.” You told Jaemin who was just talking to your dad.
“It’s not that late, stay a little longer. Your mother baked a cake this morning-“
“No dad, it’s really late. We should really go.”
Jaemin didn’t want to anger you, he could see the anger written all over your face, so he just agreed with you, like he always did.
“Thank you for tonight, dinner was amazing.”
You were already waiting in the car as Jaemin bid goodbye to your parents.
He silently drove you home, for the first time he didn’t talk and talk and talk. The silence was refreshing, you could finally rest your mind and soul after the dinner with your parents.
“I’ll call you tomorrow around 12, is that alright for you?” Jaemin asked you softly.
“Sure. Drive safe.” you just wanted to take off your clothes and take a long shower.
But I miss screaming and fighting And kissing in the rain And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name You're so in love that you act insane And that's the way I loved you
Breakin' down and coming undone It's a roller-coaster kinda rush And I never knew I could feel that much And that's the way I loved you
Jaemin left you that night and you were glad that he managed the situation with your parents and moving in together. You weren’t ready to take that step with Jaemin, hell you weren’t even sure if you saw a future with him. You had to admit, that all you could think about was Jeno and that was so wrong, but you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
You felt bad for Jaemin but talking about moving in together helped you realize that you could never love anyone as much as you loved Jeno and that there was actually no future for you and Jaemin. Jaemin was perfect, but you don’t want perfect, you want Jeno. You want the passion and the love you had with Jeno.
Jaemin didn’t deserve to be led on, and he definitely didn’t deserve to be second choice. Jaemin deserved someone as nice as him, as kind as him and his lovely as him. But that person was someone else, not you.
You were missing Jeno. Jeno made you feel tons of emotions and Jaemin didn’t.
You remembered the last time you saw Jeno, he looked so broken, so lost. You remembered the last call you had. How he tried to get you back and how much you’ve been thinking about him since then. It wasn’t long ago, maybe he still wanted to get back with you. Maybe he has someone else already.
You could hear the pain in his voice when you told him that you actually wanted to give him a second chance before. It broke your own heart hearing his broken voice and telling him that it was over was maybe a big mistake.
Because clearly, it wasn’t over. Your feelings, your love for Jeno was still there.
“Hey.” Jaemin called you exactly at 12 the next day.
“Hi.” he almost whispered, “Can I come over?”
You told Jaemin that it was okay to come over and you felt like it was over, because it was.
Jaemin was sitting on your couch and you were at the other edge, leaving space between you two.
“How did you sleep?” you tried to be nice, you didn’t want to fight with him again.
“Good. You?”
“Good, I guess.”
Silence.
He can't see the smile I'm faking And my heart's not breaking 'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all And you were wild and crazy Just so frustrating, intoxicating Complicated, got away by some mistake and now
Jaemin leaned to you and pressed his lips softly on yours. You didn’t feel anything. You didn’t feel any sparks, your heart didn’t beat against your chest, you felt nothing.
You smiled and nobody could see how fake your smile was. Jaemin never realized that you always faked a smile, that most of your affection was fake until now, but he couldn’t blame you. It was alright, he was alright. Jaemin wanted to kiss you one last time before it was officially over between you.
“We’re breaking up, right?” he said in a painful tone.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered. You were sorry, but you didn’t feel like you were making a mistake, because you weren’t. This was the right decision. Breaking up with Jaemin was the only right thing to do, for him and for you.
“It’s okay. I saw you going through your stuff yesterday in your old room and I knew that it was over. And I’m not mad, I don’t understand but if your heart still wants him, there’s nothing I can do.” He nervously played with his fingers.
“I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, but the things I feel for him, it’s just so different and I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. I just can’t stop loving him” you felt dumb for leaving Jeno in the first place and maybe you were destroying everything good in your life right now, but it wasn’t fair to Jaemin, he deserved better.
Jaemin’s heart broke, and you could see it in his eyes, but your heart didn’t feel anything but relief.
I miss screaming and fighting And kissing in the rain It's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name I'm so in love that I acted insane And that's the way I loved you
Breaking down and coming undone It's a roller-coaster kinda rush And I never knew I could feel that much And that's the way I loved you oh, oh
You found yourself in front of Jeno’s apartment, your old apartment. Were you making the biggest mistake of your life right now? You didn’t know and you didn’t care, you just wanted to tell Jeno what you feel and get it off of your chest. So that’s what you did.
You softly knocked on his door.
You were as shocked as Jeno was when he opened the door and your eyes locked.
“H-Hi.” You whispered. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying, so you just let the tears roll down your face.
Jeno opened his arms for you and you jumped into his arms and hugged him as tightly as you could. You sobbed in his arms as you hid your face in his chest. Jeno was also crying and holding you tightly, he’d never let go. He’d never do the same mistake again, he couldn’t lose you ever again.
“I love you. I love you so much, I’m so sorry,” he cried out, “I can’t live without you.”
You sobbed harder, it was impossible to stop loving him, Jeno is your everything, you also can’t live without him.
“I’m sorry-“ you apologized for leaving him, for telling him to never call you again.
“No, no, you did nothing wrong, everything was my fault- I did this to us and I’m so sorry. I love you so much, I promise you I’ll never let go of your hand again if you give me a second chance.”
You softly pulled back and looked him in the eyes, his eyes were as red and puffy as yours.
“I love you so much Jeno, nothing makes sense without you. I don’t want to be away from you ever again, I can only love you.” you confessed.
Jeno softly placed his hands on your cheeks and wiped your tears away “I will always love you, I’ll always be there for you. I love you so much, I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for letting you go. I’m so sorry for everything I said and did.”
His apology was genuine, just like his love for you.
Jeno loved you and you loved Jeno, as simple as that and going back to him was the best decision you have ever made.
You were cuddling with Jeno on his couch and talking about everything you had missed in each other’s life, and he was dying to ask you this one question.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked and kissed your temple.
“You already did,” you teased him, “I’m kidding. Of course you can.”
“Did you love him?”
You knew that he’d ask you about Jaemin and that was okay.
“I think I did, I don’t really know. It was different with Jaemin. He was different.”
“So you just broke up with him?”
“Yes. Well it was a mutual decision. I didn’t want to hurt him and he knew it already.”
“Knew what?”
“That I was never going to love him like I love you. That you are the only one I want to be with, that you are everything to me and that I love you so, so much. He knew that I missed you and that I was thinking about you. Jaemin knew that the way I loved you was so different and I knew it too.”
You looked him in his teary eyes, he almost cried again and it hurt you to see him so vulnerable.
“I love you so much, I’m so sorry. Forgive me for being an idiot.” he mumbled against you lips.
“I love you too, I forgave you Jeno, or else I wouldn’t be here in your arms.” You smiled softly and connected your lips with his.
And that's the way I loved you oh, oh Never knew I could feel that much And that's the way I loved you
342 notes · View notes
katehuntington · 4 years ago
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Title: If The Bunker Had Windows Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x female reader Words: ±5250 words Description: When a Djinn case doesn’t go as planned, not everyone makes it. Dean, who is burdened by guilt, holes himself up alone in his room for days, until Y/N comes in to check on him. Will the girl who was his perfect world be able to pull him back from the darkness? Warnings: Angst/comfort. Mutual pining, some fluff. Description of canon typical violence and supernatural creatures. Mentions of injury, death and alcohol abuse. Depression, refusal to eat, grieving, crying. Satisfying ending. Author’s note: A one shot that will punch you in the feels, according to my betas @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons. Always grateful for you girls helping me out! And to my readers, I hope you enjoy my reading, thank you for your support.
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     Serenity floats through the halls of the Men of Letters headquarters, like the morning mist on an autumn day. If the bunker had windows, the sun would have shone diagonal beams through the glass, warm and welcome, but instead it’s the light from the vintage table lamps that give this home its glow.
     Y/N moves down the hall towards the galley, her sock covered feet softly padding against the marble floors. Despite her stealth approach, Sam is waiting for her to appear in the doorway, his eyes already lifted from the tablet that lays flat on the mahogany table.      “Morning,” he greets, continuing to swipe through news articles, in his search for a case. “Coffee’s brewing.”
     She descends down the two steps and sets foot into the kitchen, the aroma of roasted beans flooding her senses. The night hasn’t been without worries and all the more without sleep, so she can use a good dose of caffeine.      “Thanks,” she returns.
     After pouring herself a generous amount of the dark beverage, her thoughts wander off to the other inhabitant of this oddly cosy concrete structure. Dean’s absence is obnoxiously evident, the air not filled with grumpy mutters before he had his coffee, neither with a lame joke that he found on the back of the cereal box, that only he finds funny.      With a deep sigh, she turns around with her favorite mug in her hand, resting against the counter. “Has he come out of his room yet?”
     Sam’s jaw flexes, the tall giant with a gentle heart glancing over. He doesn’t even have to shake his head for Y/N to know the answer. Shutting her eyes for a few seconds, she takes a sip from her hot drink, burning her tongue, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the pain she knows Dean is in.
     It’s been three days since the brothers returned from a particularly tough hunt. She remembers Sam’s voice hollering through the bunker, and she instantly realized that something terrible had happened. When she found the Winchesters in the garage, Dean leaning on his sibling and barely able to stay on his feet, the air was stolen from her lungs. His skin was paler than those of the spirits she has faced and he seemed barely conscious. His eyes beheld an emptiness that faded the forest green of his irises, leaving nothing but a shallowness that reminded her of death, even though his heart was still faintly beating.
     A Djinn had gotten to him, and by the time Sam found his brother, strung up to the ceiling of the monster’s den, he was barely alive. It was too late for the young college student who the hunters were hoping to save, her corpse dangling in shackles next to Dean, drained of blood and life. She was all but a grim memoir of their failure, a reminder of the fate that would have befallen the hunter, had the younger Winchester sibling not found him. 
     Back home, Sam and Y/N carried Dean to the infirmary and thankfully got a hold of Castiel, who came to the rescue as fast as he could. The angel might not be at full power, but he was able to pull his friend away from the reaper, who was without a doubt waiting to claim his soul like the vultures that they are. 
     Even though Cas glued the shattered shards back together until Dean was physically whole again, something inside him remains damaged beyond repair. The mighty hunter, who faces his enemies head on and with guns blazing, who laughs Death in the face, is defeated, and there is not much the cosmic being can do to change that. A broken body is much easier to heal than a broken mind.
     Y/N puts her empty coffee mug aside and exhales, coming back to the present. “Did he eat, at least?” she wonders, a desperate hopefulness in her pitch.      Again, Sam shakes his head. “He left dinner by the door without touching it. I’m sorry.”      The younger Winchester doesn’t have to apologize, after all, it’s not his fault that the food was left untouched. Yet, he knows their female companion had put a lot of effort in making Dean his favorite burgers, hoping it would persuade him.     “It’s okay, Sam,” she assures, forcing a smile.
     While the younger Winchester brother returns his attention to his tablet, Y/N takes a moment to collect herself. She then turns to the kitchen counter and crouches down, taking a large frying pan from the lower cabinets. After lighting up the stove and carefully placing a second ceramic pot on the fire, the bunker’s second best cook opens the refrigerator and collects a carton of eggs, milk, bacon and cheese.
     Sam watches her move around the galley, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”      “I’m making Dean breakfast,” she states, matter of factly.      The hunter sighs, pity evident in the soft exhale. “Y/N--”      “I have to try, Sam.” She cuts him off, the tremble in her voice noticeable. 
     Their eyes meet when the woman glances over her shoulder, still stirring the milk and eggs in a bowl. The younger Winchester is well aware that this meal will most likely end in the trash like the others, but he understands why she feels the need to take care of his brother. It’s her way of letting Dean know that she’s not giving up on him, no matter how thick the fog grows in the mind of the tormented hunter. It’s her way of keeping busy and doing something, anything, because watching from the sidelines while someone suffers, is not in her nature. Especially not when that person is Dean, the man who she cares so much for, more than she would like to admit.
     Sam’s lips press into a thin line, the corners reaching up slightly. The crow’s feet by his eyes wrinkle and become a little deeper, despite the brown hair that frames his gentle expression. She and Sam have been friends for a long time and often don’t need words anymore. With just a look, he explained that he sympathizes with her, and that he’s thankful for her efforts. 
     She returns his small smile and focuses on her cooking again, laying out the bacon into the hot frying pan, watching the meat as it starts to sizzle.
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     Twenty minutes later, Y/N walks down the hallway towards the dorms, a tray in her hands decked out with scrambled eggs, french toast and a fresh cup of coffee. Before the first room on the right, she halts, staring at the golden ‘11’ on the wooden barrier in front of her. Contemplating if she should leave the warm meal on the threshold or not, she looks down at her feet.      “Dean?” she calls out, hesitant. “Is it alright if I come in?”
     Her question remains unanswered, only fueling her doubt. Is he sleeping? Would she be crossing a line if she enters? Of course she wants to grant him his privacy, but he has been cooped up in there for three days now, without food, without social interaction. There have been many times when she was worried sick about the hunter who has already endured so much, and these past days only add to that count. What is the right approach here? Give him more time? 
     Closing himself off and pushing down the agony is his go-to coping mechanism, and although it isn’t a healthy one, she always respected the space he needed to move past the pain. She’s used to him being quiet, taking the Impala for late night drives, drinking more than usual and sleeping less. But at least he came out of his room, at least he ate. Now, everything is different.
     Before she can reconsider, she balances the tray in one hand, freeing the other to reach for the brass knob. Carefully, she pushes the door ajar, allowing the light from the hallway to bleed into Dean’s room. The state in which she finds the resilient soldier, who courageously charges into battle and has won wars on strength and will alone, almost brings her to tears. He’s in his bed, curled up on the far left of the mattress, leaving the empty space next to him vacant. His back is turned towards her as he lays in a fetal position, the comforter pulled up over his shoulder. The darkness that surrounds him only seems fitting for his frail state of mind.
     Y/N isn’t sure if the older Winchester brother is even awake, since he fails to respond to her presence, but she steps into the shadows nonetheless.      “Dean? I brought breakfast,” she announces, softly enough that if he is sleeping, her words will not wake him.
     The broken form in the bed shifts slightly. She might not realize it, but Dean has heard her, and has done every single time she has brought him something to eat. Her light footfalls passing his room, the hesitation on his doorstep, the soft knocks on the wood, the sigh when she turned away again. A part of him was glad she never came in before, yet at the same time, he was fighting the urge to call out, craving her company, her touch. Anything even remotely close to the way she was with him in his dreams, when held captive.
     “I’m not hungry,” he croaks, his voice failing after not having used it for so long.      “You’ve got to eat something,” she tries again. “It’s been a couple of days.”
     The beaten hunter turns into his pillow, leaving the woman who intends to make him feel better by the door. A shuddering breath falls from her lips, one laced with disappointment and frustration. He should be used to letting people down by now, but it still stings. Struggling to not give in to his own longing, he opens his weary eyes and stares at the empty bottle on his nightstand, the whiskey it once beheld long gone.
     Dean expects her to leave. It would do him justice, because he doesn’t deserve such kindness. But instead, he can hear her shuffle closer. She makes room on the side table, putting the remnants of his self medication down on the floor, the glass thudding softly on the stone surface, and sets down a tray. The smell of bacon fills his nose, and even though his stomach growls in response, he is sure the food would turn to ash in his mouth. Nothing can still the hunger that this perfect dream stirred up. Nothing can fill the hole in his gut that has only grown larger since Sam pulled him away from the world created by the Djinn he was supposed to kill. 
     He gave in to a fairy tale, even though he is well aware they are make-believe. He couldn’t leave that utopia, because for once, he just wanted to be happy. Instead of stepping up and slaying the monster at the end of the book, he was selfish, weak, and a girl died because of it.
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     His self-destructive chain of thought is interrupted when the bed dips down, Y/N taking up the small space on the edge of the mattress. Her delicate hand reaches for him, moving his tousled hair from his forehead, running her fingers through his light brown locks. Closing his eyes, he swallows with difficulty, biting down to keep the tears at bay. He doesn’t want her to see him in this state, to see the fucked up train wreck that he is. 
     “Talk to me,” she says softly, her whisper breaking the silence, but Dean shakes his head.      “I can’t,” he returns, hoarse. “You should go.”      She stands her ground. “I’m not going anywhere.” 
     The tired hunter doesn’t have the energy to argue, and for a while, they just are. Dean on his side, huddled under the comforter, Y/N right next to him, one leg pulled under her, the other dangling from the edge of the bed. The motions of her gentle caressing almost lulls him to sleep, but he doesn’t allow unconsciousness to take him. The second he drifts off, he will be faced with either the same old horrific nightmares he has gotten used to, or return to the dream that will never be. Waking up from either will be too devastating for him to handle.
     Wishing she could offer him any kind of solace, Y/N allows her thumb to rub his temple, cupping his handsome face gingerly. The action draws his weary eyes to meet hers for the first time this morning. The slight improvement should be a relief, yet it is anything but. The sorrow that swims in his gaze breaks her heart.
     “It isn’t your fault,” she offers, her words so soft, that if the room hadn’t been draped in silence, the hunter would have missed it.      Dean looks away, however, shaking his head slightly, unable to accept her comfort. “It is. I could’ve snapped out of it.”
     The woman by his bedside furrows her brow, her expression soft and sympathetic. Why does he expect the impossible from himself? Why does he have to rescue everyone on this earth? No one can live up to that, not even the hero that he is. It’s a burden too heavy to bear for any being, a responsibility that sets him up to fail, because he can’t save them all. He would always beat himself up, whenever they would lose an innocent during a hunt, but this time there’s more to it. This time he can’t get up.
     “A Djinn put you under. How could you have known it was a dream?” she says, trying to help him see that this blame is not his to take.      “That’s the thing,” he sighs, the air that flows from his lungs substantial with regret and remorse. “I was aware it wasn’t real. I just… I didn’t wanna wake.”
     Without pausing, her gentle touch traces the scruff on his cheek as she analyses his words that raise so many questions. If he knew what he was experiencing was indeed a fantasy, then why didn’t his hunter instincts kick in? Coming back from a coma as such is anything but easy. Yet just like with a vivid nightmare, once one realizes the terrors are nothing but a manifestation of their deepest fears, they can fight their way back to the surface. What could Dean have possibly seen that would keep him from coming home?      “What did you dream about?” she wonders.
     His focus turns in a thousand yard stare, as if he can see it all again. Every reason that made him decide to lay down his weapons when the creature captured him. Every experience that was so tentative, that he was ready to swap that reverie for reality. Every vision, every touch, every smile, every laugh. Every wish come true. It is right there, just out of reach, displayed behind the glass that encases his memories, reminding him of what will never be.
     “Mom, Dad... they were alive,” Dean begins, the recollections causing his eyes to shimmer. “Your parents too. Sammy was married to Jess. She was pregnant.”
     Y/N listens to the fallen hunter breathlessly, trying not to blink, because she knows it would force the tears to fall from her lashes. Slowly, it begins to dawn on her why he couldn’t find his way back. 
     “There were no monsters, we didn’t hunt. Sam was a lawyer, I owned an auto shop. We had family barbecues, dinner during thanksgiving. It was…” he lets out a shuddering breath, drops brewed by bittersweet reminiscence rolling down from the corner of his eye. “It was simple, peaceful, without the constant worry. No sorrow, no regret. And you, the way you were smiling… I’ve never seen you glow like that.” 
     He breaks away from the perfect vision, glancing at the woman who he got to call his in that dream. The woman who he lived with, in a house by a lake, with a back porch looking out over the water. The woman who he married and gave him two beautiful children. The woman who he loves, and in that perfect world he allowed to love him back.
     Dean tries to swallow down the painful lump that obstructs his throat as a hint of a smile tucks at the corner of his mouth. He could tell her all that, but it wouldn’t do her any good. In fact, that illusion might break her, just like it broke him. Instead, he allows a final sentence to fall from his lips, but the emotion that has closed around his airway only allows a whisper.      “We were so happy.”
     Tears find their way down Y/N’s face, leaving shimmering pathways in their wake. Not a word has left her, not even the smallest sound. She doesn’t trust her voice to ease his dreadful affliction. 
      It makes sense now, why he couldn’t bring himself to pop that bubble. What Dean experienced, it sounds perfect. It is the definition of heaven, not just for him, but for all the people he cares about. It shouldn’t be a surprise to her that the selfless man only wants what’s best for his family, eliminating his personal desires, but it moves her nonetheless. Their happiness, her happiness, is Dean’s.      It’s only then that his choice of words begins to settle in her conscience.      “We?”
     Confusion adds to all the emotions that pass by in her misty eyes like frames of a silent film. The hunter’s gaze meets hers again, and he’s not sure if he should be terrified or relieved when he sees that puzzlement transition into comprehension. The puckered lines between her brows even out as her mouth opens slightly, her eyes growing larger, boring into his soul.      “We were together,” she realizes.
     Dean doesn’t have to confirm, it wasn’t a question after all. She has figured it out already, and that conclusion now hovers between them, neither of the two knowing what to do with the revelation.      “Doesn’t matter,” he eventually whispers. “It was just a dream.”
     The downhearted conclusion has Y/N tilt her head to the side, watching the man who she has loved ever since she met him. The memory is one she holds dear, the wide grin he flashed after witnessing her taking down two vampires with a machete, before he and his brothers even got the chance to make the kill. She didn’t think she needed saving, but when his emerald greens took her in, she felt a warmth flair in her heart. He did in fact rescue her that day, and now it was her turn to rescue him. Y/N breathes in, because in order to do so, she needs to be brave. 
     Her left hand reaches for his, which is holding onto the pillow under his head. She takes it, unfolding his clenched fist, and laces their fingers together.      “It doesn’t have to be,” she speaks softly.
     For a few seconds Dean beholds their entwinement, astounded by the gesture. Is she doing this because she feels sorry for him? Because she’s worried that her resentment would send him further into the dark? But when he glances up at her, the look she gives him stuns the hunter. There’s no pity, nor desperation. All he sees is a softness in her beautiful eyes, a calmness that tells him that it’s alright, that she knows, and that she feels the same way. 
     “Y/N...” he utters, unable to let go of her hand, but not ready to close her palm in his a little tighter. “We can’t. It’s only gonna end sad and bloody.”      She shrugs at that, running her thumb over his rough skin, the motion soothing them both. “Maybe,” she agrees, “but denying this, not giving in to what we feel, isn’t that worse?”
     His chest rises and falls slowly, his focus now locked on their hands again, while the woman still seated on the side of his bed holds her breath. It’s almost as if he’s too scared to look at her, aware how fragile this moment is. They are at a crossroads, and depending on the direction he decides to take, this instant might remain just that, a jiff, or it might be the start of something new, yet terrifying.
     “I don’t want you to get hurt,” Dean sighs, fresh tears glistening though his long lashes.
     Swallowing with difficulty, Y/N looks down, sniveling. She can feel him slipping through her fingers like sand in an hourglass, every passing second taking the battered hunter further away. But before she loses him all together, she strengthens her hold.      “I know you don’t,” she acknowledges, “but having to look back at some point, realizing we missed our shot and watched that ship sail by, that would cause me so much pain, that I--”
     The whimper that falls from her lips, draws his gaze up to study her expression. She’s crying silently, her mouth firmly closed in a thin line. The woman who goes out her way to make him feel better, is breaking in front of him because of his doing, and it hurts him more than anything he has felt in the past three days. Instinctively, he frees himself from her hold, only to take her small hand in his palm, protectively wrapping his fingers around hers. The reassurance gives her just enough strength to continue her plea.
     “After everything we’ve been through, the losses, the sacrifices. Hell, multiple apocalypses…” she begins, barely able to grasp how many battles they have survived. “We deserve this.”
     There is not a doubt in the hunter’s mind that Y/N has earned all the happiness the universe can offer, but him? No, he hasn’t. People have died because of him, lives ruined, families torn apart. He has made too many mistakes, and no amount of good deeds could set the record straight.      “Why would you wanna be with me?” he huffs, shaking his head slightly. “I’m such a fuckin’ mess...”
     Y/N takes him in, the man who has never believed he was good enough for anything. There is not a monster on this planet that could hate Dean more than he hates himself. If only he could see how Sam looks up to his big brother, how proud he would have made his parents, if they had still been alive. If only he could see her, and know how much she loves him.
     Taking a bold step, she begins to lower herself, leaning towards him. The action is rushed, afraid that the coward inside of her might alter the course, but once her lips meet Dean’s, she stills. She can sense him freezing against her and panic jolts through her body, the fear of rejection almost having Y/N pull back herself. But then he eases, his mouth moving with hers. The kiss is short and light. Neither of them intends to deepen the touch, the gesture adding enough depth to the situation as it is.
     When she opens her eyes, his are still closed. Almost as if he was still in the Djinn’s hold, and can’t let go of the bliss that surrounds him. A small smile adorns her soft features as she waits for him to look at her, which he only does when she lovingly brushes her nose against his.
     While his focus bounces over her features, taking in every perfect imperfection that makes the woman before him so unmistakably her, he mirrors her smile. No one wants to disturb this precious moment, but Dean has to let out the breath he was holding for some time. He shifts his head against the pillow, watching how Y/N pulls his hand closer, pressing her lips to the knuckles, lovingly. 
     “I’m a mess too,” she admits. “I’m just as scared, Dean. But, together it might just get a little more bearable. I know I’m just a fraction of that dream--”      “- Y/N.” The hunter stops her then and there, pushing himself off the mattress on his elbow. He might not think of himself as worthy, but he will not stand for her effacing her own purpose. The interruption silences her instantly, her wondering eyes still glossed over with emotion, awaiting. Now it’s his time to be brave. 
     He doesn’t let go of her hand, nor of her gaze. He doesn’t let go of the woman he wants to spend his remaining days with, no matter how many or how few.      “You are so much more than a fraction,” he expresses, heartfelt.
     Having made up his mind, Dean sits up and reaches for her, the warm shade of green only hooded by closing lids when his mouth finds hers. He allows himself to graze over her soft lips, drinking in the one person who he has longed for, but never expected to be with. The sensation that erupts in his stomach once the kiss intensifies is the equivalent to a firework show, the bright colors and sparks lighting up the black skies. Euphoria overwhelms him, the same sense that flooded his conscience when the Djinn lured the hunter into that heavenly hallucination. This is a dream too, and yet it isn’t, because this, this is real.
     The kiss leaves Y/N breathless, yet she is able to sense his warm hand coming up her side and sliding around her back to settle between her shoulder blades, hugging her tight without ever removing his lips from hers. Finally, they are here. After months, years of denial, they are ready to give themselves to each other. Sometimes you need to lose all that isn’t, to appreciate what is. 
     She has to pull every string not to cry in elation, but can’t stop the drops of emotion from rolling down. When Dean feels the wetness against his own cheeks, he reluctantly breaks the connection, cupping her face worriedly.      “Hey…” he hushes.      She shakes her head, dismissing his concern, and laughs through the tears. “I’m okay. I’m just - I’m so happy right now, I don’t know what to do with myself.”
     A twinkle reaches her eyes, making it impossible for Dean to look away. He never thought he would be able to witness her so content, let alone have her admit it out loud. Not in this world, anyway. An image of the custom made dream forged by the Djinn pushes itself to the forefront, Y/N on the porch of their house, comfortable in his arms, absolutely beaming. When he awoke from that coma, he thought that the illusion couldn’t be further from reality, but he was wrong.      “I’ve seen that smile before,” he says warmly.
     Y/N grin grows even wider at that, but before she can ask what the man who she just revealed her affections to means, a rumble rises from Dean’s stomach, causing them both to drop their gaze to where the sound is coming from. Once she realizes what caused it, she giggles, and it’s the greatest harmony Dean has ever heard. 
    “You must be starving,” she comments while wiping her tears, hoping he will finally take in some food after having gone three days without it.     “I could eat,” he admits with a chuckle.      “Well, it’s a good thing I made you scrambled eggs with cheese and extra bacon then.” She straightens her back and shifts to the edge of the bed, taking the tray with both hands. “Scoot.”
     Dean pushes himself up further and sits back against the headboard, his mouth watering when Y/N sets the platter over his lap. Only now does he realize how hungry he truly is. He picks up the cutlery and cuts off some toast, overloading it with egg before he has a mouthful, the delicious meal still warm on his tongue.      “Take it easy, okay? Wouldn’t want you to get sick,” she says kindly, reaching for him and rubbing her thumb over his stubble.      He looks up at here before taking a bite of the strip of meat, his eyes having gained some of that boyish sparkle again. Relieved by the sight, Y/N watches him, glad that she finally managed to get his spirits up. 
     “You want some?” Dean checks with his mouth full, pushing the plate of bacon in her direction.      She frowns at that. “Since when do you share food?”      “Since now, and only with you,” he admits. “Don’t tell Sam.”
     They share a laugh and continue to eat in silence until the dishes are so clean, they barely need washing. The pair leave the darkness of room ‘11’, Dean heading for the showers, Y/N turning the corner towards the kitchen. With a spring in her step, the giddy woman makes her way through the hallways of the enormous building. The tray in her hands feels much lighter, and not just because of the cleared plates she’s carrying. 
     With a smirk on her lips, she hops down the steps into the galley, finding Sam by the fridge, who is restocking it with the groceries he just picked up. It’s not until he notices the empty dishes which she sets down on the counter, that his gaze shoots up to their female companion’s joyful eyes.     “He ate?” he asks, hopeful.     “He did,” Y/N smiles, dropping the plates in the sink. “He’s feeling much better, he’s freshening up now.”      The younger Winchester continues to stare at her in awe, stammering something intellectual, before he pauses and blinks a couple of times.      “What happened?” he can’t help but wonder, surprised by his brother’s improvement.
     She remains silent for a few seconds while she runs the tap and adds dish soap to the hot water. What took place in his room is hard to explain. It required a long list of events, building up to this disclosure. It involved Dean opening up about what he went through, comfortable enough to share his grief and let it out. It included them both being fearless after being scared for so long. It comprehended two individuals, growing together, taking a leap to cross a gap that seemed impossible to overcome. 
     “He let the light in,” she states simply, meeting Sam with a meaningful smile.
     Grateful, the tall hunter huffs in astonishment, before he closes her in a hug and presses a kiss on her hair, not needing words to tell just how appreciative he is of her presence. He  assists her and takes up the task of drying the dishes, the two friends working side by side to finish the chore. They are storing away the plates, the noise of the china being stacked in the cupboards allowing Dean to wait in the doorway without being spotted just yet. He’s freshly showered, wearing his dark grey robe over comfortable clothes, leaning against the post and taking in the woman who has turned his life around. 
     If the bunker had windows, the sun would have shone brightly. The late morning rays would come in through the portals to the outside world, illuminating their home. The beams would have been warm and healing, burning away sadness and discomfort, like it would melt the snow on the last days of winter. 
     But the bunker doesn’t need windows.      The bunker has her.
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Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).
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helenazbmrskai · 4 years ago
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It’s all timing - pjm
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– If you’re searching for a light and fluffy read well, this won’t be your cup of tea so continue with caution darlings! –
Title – It’s all timing
Pairing – cold husband! Jimin x clocksmith! OC
Genre – fantasy, romance, extreme amount of angst, time travel, smut, marriage, established relationship, Ceo, exes to lovers
Summary – I learnt the hard way that marriage can change a person. I would have never thought that an old watch will let me have a glimpse of my ex-husband’s world but don’t be mistaken I’m not here to fix things. I’m here to change it.
Warning(s) – Jimin is not a loveable character here (until way way later), cheating, mentions of emotional abuse and manipulation, falling in and out of love, the past and present clash a lot, different timelines that may be confusing, this is going to be a wild ride girls and boys, themes of depression and sadness, feeling of worthlessness, and self-image distortion, numbness, discussion of not wanting to have children. Unedited.
Word Count – (5.2k)
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[21st March 2021]
Things between us were not always complicated. Our friendship was always exceptional even when friends fought and sought different ways after freshman year at the local Community College, Jimin and I were glued to each other’s side and maybe that’s why no one was surprised as we announced our plans to get married after we graduated.
The new world that greeted us after we finished high school only seemed meaningful because I had Jimin by my side. At that time I had no idea I’ll fall for him this hard, he literally became the extension of myself, my arms and limbs and the lungs that kept me alive. He was my first serious boyfriend even though I dated a few guys here and there before him but none of those relationships seemed to work out either because of me or the guy. Jimin is someone who could easily have his ways with words so when he decided to show interest in me as in more than friends, it was inevitable that I would give in. He was a wonderful lover in the beginning. Passionate and loving, we had many movie nights that ended up with his hands down my pants as his thick fingers rubbed my clit. He bought me flowers and comforted me when I had a bad day.
His cunning smile could get him out of a lot of trouble. Maybe that’s why I never saw the other side of him that sometimes peeked through his carefully crafted mask. I decided to ignore all the red flags until I found myself in a loveless marriage with a man that I couldn’t recognise anymore. Once I realised what had happened it was already too late.
 [12nd November 2018]
Jimin hated the fact that I was a heavy sleeper. He even threatened me once that he’ll sleep in the guest room if he had to wake up one more time to my alarm relentlessly ringing while I showed no signs of waking up any time soon.
My workspace was on the other side of town. The rent was cheap so it was worth the extra miles and the full tank of gas in my car but because of it I had to wake up extra early so I could finish showering then I would go to the kitchen to make lunch for Jimin to take with him to work and still have enough time to get ready with a freshly brewed coffee in one hand and toast in the other. Even after our first year in marriage passed by like a flash, Jimin continued to be his affectionate self, he showered me with kisses and felt needy for my touch.
It was one of our best years together. Jimin started to get more involved with his father’s company and my workshop began to gain more popularity to my greatest surprise. While I was working on an old clock that was brought into my shop by an old married couple a few hours ago my focus kept wandering back to this morning. Smiling under my nose as I thought back to why I was late to open up my little workshop this particular morning.
Jimin likes to be spontaneous he always calls me a bore when I hesitate to try out new things but this time he did not have to do much convincing before I agreed. It was weirdly satisfying to wake up to Jimin’s head buried between the juncture of my thighs, shaking and aroused even though I couldn’t feel or hear him do all those sinful things to me while I was asleep. I didn’t feel him take off my panties or lift the covers to expose my bare centre to his hungry eyes and when our gazes met he proudly told me how well I took his fingers even while I was unconscious.
Experimenting was not something I was willing to do before Jimin showed me the appeal of trying out new things. With him by my side, I felt invincible like I could conquer the world if he stays next to me holding my hand tight.
We outlived all expectations. They said high school sweethearts don’t last, well, we did.  Even though both of our parents were against the idea of us marrying each other so young we ended up doing just that. Jimin proposed after we got our diploma and I said yes. We lived together as roommates throughout all those years we spent together studying and we moved in together after both of us got our first jobs as postgrads.
I was happy it felt like we were at the top of the world but if I had known that after that year everything will go downhill I would have tried to be happier.
 [24th December 2019]
Do you know what are the telltales of cheaters? Well, it starts with subtle changes in his behaviour, you begin to see him less he makes up excuses of having too much work to do or stress so that he could avoid your advances.
He tries to make it up to you with expensive gifts but they mean nothing after the tenth impersonal present because all you would ever want is his attention and love instead of those pathetic attempts of showing their devotion with empty words. The last and most important one on the list is the new anonymous contact on his phone that shows several phone calls and text messages back and forth for hours.
Jimin did all of those.
He stopped experimenting with me. He would fuck me from behind even when I told him I want to see his face. No foreplay, no more cute nose kisses and breathless laughs between the acts of lust and playful wandering fingers.
He no longer cared if I finished first or not at all because after he was done it meant it was over. Jimin took a shower and crawled into bed facing away from me now that this task was taken care of. After the fifth time that he left me hanging, I gathered all the courage that’s left in me to stop his hands from dipping under my pants. I felt disgusted and used he made me think I’m a mere fucktoy that he can discard once it lost its appeal.
I had one of the worst days at work. The clock I was working on was missing a crucial part that I could only import from abroad and the man who wanted it fixed told me to don’t bother because he can’t afford such an expensive repair. It was not something that I could control, the clock was antique for fucks sake. He left without paying for my services even though I told him it was not the only part that I needed to change.
On my way home, a drunk man almost crashed into me with his Sedan and it left me a little shaken up, it was justified to feel the way I was and when Jimin tried to make a move on me by groping my breasts without asking permission first I just snapped.
Not one to back up he snapped right back and it led to one of our ugliest fights. I couldn’t believe the words he so carelessly let out from between those poisonous lips. We had quarrels before every couple has that, it’s normal to disagree to some extents but he went too far this time around. It’s not just the words that left me a crying mess on our bedroom floor with snot stuffing my nostrils, sniffing and rubbing the tears from my swollen eyes. I broke down once I heard the front door shut with a force that made the windows shake. It was past midnight when I heard shuffling and muffled voices, I knew Jimin was back so I cracked the door open just enough to peek into the dark living room.
It was not just Jimin, the smell of alcohol penetrated my nostrils as I watched my husband with disgust, making out with a girl in our shared apartment. I couldn’t believe the audacity he had to bring this chick back where we’re supposed to live together, it was just too much. Hearing him ram into her from the guest bedroom while I cried in our shared bedroom with just one wall separating us. I bet he didn’t even hear the front door closing while I dialled my friend’s number to pick me up. He couldn’t have heard that over that girl’s loud moaning.
I don’t remember when I finally stopped crying in my friend’s arms. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what happened. It was enough humiliation to witness my once loving husband come home with a quick fuck after a fight, it doesn’t matter that he was reeking of expensive shots of alcohol. It didn’t make his actions any less painful.
My heart broke into a million more pieces when I saw him calling me the next day. I didn’t have the guts to pick up, all I could see was him kissing another girl. I bet he was so drunk that he couldn’t remember anything, I wonder if he yelled at the girl in the morning to get the fuck out once he realised it’s not me who lays beside him. Wishful thinking on my part, he probably fucked her in the morning too just before he called me.
Somi finds my body doubled over her toilet throwing up water since it’s been a while I last ate. She helps me through it and gently gathers my hair into a loose ponytail so I won’t get any in my hair as beads of sweat and tears are rolling down my face. My body works on autopilot going through the cleaning motions as I take a burning hot shower and then lay down to get some rest. My body aches and the fatigue is evident in every lazy flutter of my lashes.
I hear his voice, pleading to my friend to let him see me. Now it’s dark outside, it must be hours that I slept through. Somi denies that I’m here and I’m thankful for her quick understanding, the last thing I want right now is to face him. Even though I never told her what happened between us she could sense that it’s more than just a little lovers quarrel.
Our second anniversary would have been next month but instead of roses and kisses next to a dimly lit dinner table, there’s only a big envelope with papers. Divorce papers. The first time he sees me after a month of silence is to have his signature that would end this relationship for good. Today should have been a nice memory filled with laughter and passionate lovemaking. Maybe we were never meant to find each other. Better off as friends, these simple yet powerful words might have saved our future back then if one of us were brave enough to say it.
Jimin looks worn out, it’s obvious he rushed here from his office once you called, he wears his formal attire. He didn’t think you would show up even though it’s supposed to be the day that you should celebrate another year of marriage.
The papers lay heavy on his side of the table as he skims through the content he sees that you already signed your part. He picks up the pen that I prepared in advance, his hands are shaking almost crushing the poor stationery in half with the strength that he holds it.
”I don’t want to d-divorce.” It’s the first sentence that he says to me. His lips are quivering and fat tears are rolling down his cheeks by the time he dares to look into my eyes. I’m however are past the point of shedding crocodile tears. I cried over him enough times to make my face feel numb and puffy with the amount of sadness that poured out of my body in pathetic waves. I can’t keep eye contact for long as his face keeps reminding me of that night I tried so hard to erase from my memory this past month. A part of me is furious seeing him cry, he was the one who sealed out fate. He has no right to feel sad or plead with me to give him another chance.
”If you ever loved me, you will sign it. I give you a week to do the right thing.” With those last words, our anniversary ended.
 [13rd October 2020]
”It’s been a whole year after your divorce, don’t you think it’s time to get yourself out there again?” So this is why she wanted to see me I realise.
I know Somi means well, but I dread those words coming out of her mouth every once in a while. If I think about it she was always good at choosing the worst timing to bring the subject up. She’s not aware that this particular day holds a lot of those sour memories that I once cherished. This day was once one of the most important days to me, to us.
Today is Jimin’s Birthday, it’s the first time since we became friends and then later lovers that we don’t spend this day together anymore. I don’t know how to feel about it yet. I used this new year to heal from my wounds that the love of my life left behind. Getting used to living alone after living with someone for so long was tough. I caught myself making more food than I needed or when I was shopping I got those yoghurts that Jimin loves so much even though I’ve always hated the taste of those. I end up throwing them out at home. I blocked his number and any kind of social media that I could think of from the top of my head. The silence between us was crushing at first, I thought that there are no more tears left to shed but when I got our divorce papers from my attorney I couldn’t stop the new waves of tears from escaping.
Yet all my efforts seem to be in vain as my mind keeps going back to him. I catch myself wondering how he’s doing. If he feels as shitty as me even after a full year apart. If he ever wished things would have been different between us. I just wanted to know if he ever regretted destroying our marriage because of another girl. I don’t know if they are together or not or if he dates her now that I’m out of the picture but it’s better left this way. I’m already heartbroken, seeing him again would just open up my barely healed wounds.
”Can we not talk about this today? I’m feeling kinda low right now.” I sigh, shaking my head habitually if only it would make me stop thinking about him. There’s an old fashioned watch with a silver-coated socket in front of me, it’s pretty. A middle-aged woman brought it to me today telling me that it was a gift from his grandfather but it was never in working condition. She went to several locksmiths over the years but no one could fix it so she asked at last that I would be willing to pay for it. I found it interesting so I agreed to buy it from her. I started working on the old watch and at the beginning, it didn’t want to tick even when I made the necessary changes. I just couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it when seemingly it didn’t have anything that needed to be fixed.
On my way home after a rough day at work, I bought some soju from the corner convenience store so I could at least get drunk enough to sleep through the whole night. The pills my therapist prescribed for me doesn’t seem to work at all nowadays.
I placed the watch down onto my bedside table and pulled the comforter over my drunk head. I heard the loud ticking of a clock but I don’t remember having one on the wall. I thought that my drunk mind probably was still hung up on the fact that I couldn’t even fix a simple watch so I shrugged the noises off and closed my eyes until red dots filled my vision.
I just need some sleep.
 [13rd November 2018]
”Wake up, baby. You’ll be late again.” There’s a kiss on my shoulder then on my temple as warm hands turn me around in bed. It feels oddly familiar to have two hands around my waist that pulls me into a hard chest, blond fluffy hair fills my vision once my eyelashes flutter open.
I’m back in our shared bedroom at his lavish apartment that’s a lot better than the shitty apartment that I was able to afford after our messy divorce. Divorce? Wait. A. Fucking. Minute. What is Jimin doing here holding me? It’s been too long that I saw him but he looks oddly young here, the Jimin I last saw started to get wrinkles and lost a bit of weight but this man reminds me of the boy I fell in love with. I remember getting drunk last night but I’m sure even at the state I was in I couldn’t get here on my own and I don’t remember getting a taxi or even getting up from my bed last night. I frantically search for my phone that I conveniently find on the nightstand, speechless as I watch Jimin stretch like we just didn’t share a bed together after one year of not seeing each other. He shouldn’t look so relaxed while I panic internally.
Then I see the date as my phone screen activates with my touch. I don’t use this phone anymore, I got another one after I blocked Jimin’s number because this device was a birthday present from him that kept reminding me of, well, him so I decided to change it even though I couldn’t afford a similar model like this with my single salary. I remember this day like it only happened yesterday it was around the time that he got a good position at his father’s company and we were both invited to a found raiser event. I bought this beautiful red dress that he eagerly ripped off of me once we were back at home slightly buzzed on the champagne.
It doesn’t make sense though. The only explanation that I can come up with is that I might be still drunk and I’m hallucinating of some sort after all it was just yesterday that Jimin’s birthday made me think about us again.
I lock myself into the bathroom. Sighing in relief once I am able to get away from Jimin’s inquiring eyes. He looked so confused when I refused to kiss him on the lips. I always kissed him goodbye before I went to work when things were still good between us. I just don’t know what to make of things right now, I’m so confused. It doesn’t feel like a dream at all and Jimin acts like he’s my husband rather than my ex-husband who cheated on me.
I splash some water on my face to calm down my nerves and I gasp when I look at my reflection in the mirror. My hair, it’s long. I got rid of those long locks after our divorce was done, Jimin liked my hair like this, long and curly, so I decided to cut it short.
”Baby, did you bring your work home? I don’t remember seeing this old thing on our nightstand when we went to sleep.” Eyes widening I rip open the bathroom door startling Jimin as I grab the old watch out of his hands. The digits are frozen one at eight and the other at one. 18. 2018? Jimin catches my hand mid-air as I try to slap myself so I could make sure this is not a dream.
”Baby say something. You’re scaring me. Are you alright?” Jimin holds my hand gently thumbs rubbing my skin as his eyes express his worry. It’s been a while since he was so affectionate. He stopped caring for me after he found that girl. I let him pull me into a hug, I missed this. I missed him but this moment doesn’t change the fact that the Jimin I loved so much cheated on me.
I left to go to work earlier than I used to around this time and I know Jimin noticed. I told him to get some takeout for lunch too.
I worked on the clocks hoping that it will distract me but it just made me think of what happened this morning more. Doing it the second time around made the process easier, I knew what was wrong with the clocks before I get them into pieces. I even remembered the young couple who brought an expensive watch to get it more fitted to his arms and he accidentally left his bracelet on my working bench after trying on the watch to see it fits after the adjustments.
Jimin sulked a little after I denied his kisses but he didn’t force me and for that I was thankful. He nagged me even when we were surrounded by his father’s workers at the found raising event to tell him what made me ’mad’ at him because he wants to apologize properly if he did something wrong. I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t just tell him he should apologize for something he will do in the future, it will just make me the weird one.
I was nervous to go home after the event because I remember how this night was supposed to end. My hand tightens around his arm when I see her approach us. I feel my stomach sink when she smiles at the both of us, introducing herself as Jimin’s coworker. I didn’t remember meeting her here but at that time I had no idea she’ll be the one who my husband cheats on me with. It was dark that day but I remember her blonde hair and her voice. I remember her moaning Jimin’s name.
”Y/N?” I snap my head towards the sound of his voice. He looks concerned it’s not the first time tonight that he had to repeat what he said. I feel sick, my body subconsciously leans on him to get a grip of reality.
I realised this is when it began. Her smile is anything but genuine as she fakes her concern, I can see the jealousy in her dark orbs as she watches my hand around my husband’s arm. She wanted him for herself all this time. She just doesn’t know yet that she succeeded a year after. A tear slid down my cheeks but I aggressively got rid of it before it could reach my chin. Jimin caged me between his strong arms drawing soothing circles onto my back but it doesn’t affect my body positively how it used to I cried harder inside his arms.
Jimin excused us and she relented even though it was clear as day that she wanted to send me daggers through her stare rather than her wishes for me to get better. The car ride was silent, he didn’t let go of my hand and I let him. I let this version of Jimin comfort me because he didn’t do anything wrong, not yet. He had no idea that this was our last happy years spent together before everything went downhill after that.
He held me in his arms.
 [5th March 2019]
After my revisit of 2018, I realised a few things. Firstly, I can travel between time with that old watch that only seem to works for a short period of time until it stops at the year I want to visit. The second thing I learnt is that Jimin can be manipulated with the right words. I decided after that night I saw her face raging with malice and jealousy that I’ll find out what really had happened between them. I know Jimin loved me even though I had doubts about it after our divorce. I knew him well we spend so much time together as friends even before we started dating. However, I never thought he would go so low as to cheat on his wife.
He was always gentle and understanding with me. Accepting the fact that I didn’t want to have children. He loved them but accepted me for who I was and never questioned why I felt this way. He was a good man, a good husband.
So I decided to watch him from afar and when she thought no one was looking, she showed her teeth like a venomous snake planting ideas into Jimin’s head talking shit about me, twisting my actions and words; going as far as telling him she thinks I am cheating on him! I know those pictures were fake as I did no such thing. I was so in love with him I would never betray him like that.
Then I remembered his odd change in behaviour, how he treated our once lovemaking sessions as fucking. How he couldn’t look into my eyes while he buried his dick inside my cunt made sense in a way now.
He thought I was the one who played him. He let himself believe that I was late from our dinners because I was fucking someone behind his back and when I told him I’m not in the mood to have sex. He got even angrier he thought that if I lied to his face he will show me what pain feels like by fucking that snake in our guest bedroom. My head was swimming overwhelmed with this information.
The truth hurt like hell.
I thought I will feel somewhat better once I discovered the truth but I feel even shitter. Jimin believed her, he didn’t bother to ask me if I was indeed cheating on him but can I really blame him? I didn’t ask either when I suspected it. We let our insecurities and that jealous bitch stand in between our marriage making it crumble down to pieces. I was angry, raging as my hand shook with it and it led me back to that day it happened. It felt too late to fix things so I closed my eyes and turned the clock. Leaving everything behind. Once and for all.
There’s nothing left for me to change in our past, I can’t fix our past mistakes but maybe I could change things in the future. Starting with exposing that snake. I wasn’t even surprised to see her as the head of the newly developed department.
[11st April 2021]
Jimin took over the firm after his father fell ill as I got to know from her assistant. I could tell she was surprised to see my face but even more surprised to realise it’s not Jimin’s whereabouts that I want to know but rather hers.
I shouldn’t be this smug about the fact that he cut all ties with her after our divorce. Deep down he was still a good man who couldn’t believe the fact that he fucked someone else while his wife cried next door with just one thin wall separating them.
I pictured this moment in my head a lot after I came back from the past. I’m way past the hurt and anger that settled in my bones for a full year and even before that. Instead, I felt eerily calm for someone who’s here to put up a show for the employees. I don’t even care if they think I’m crazy because once I locate her in her cubicles and dig my hair into her scalp pulling her hair hard with my iron grip all I could feel is utter satisfaction.
”I hope you enjoyed your good fuck. Was it satisfying to make my husband a cheater? I bet it was. Did you think I will never find out that you fed him lies and spread rumours about me sleeping around with men?”
Even the security watched as I pulled her by the hair the commotion around us almost drowned out the crying noises she made because of the pain. I didn’t pull that hard though, I hate her with every fibre of my being but I’m not a malicious person like her. She would deserve worse than what I’m doing but I never want to go down to her level ever again so I let her go.
”How did you found out?” She looked pale as a ghost. I know she was scared she had every right to be because I’m sure I have that crazy look in my eyes.
”It doesn’t matter. What does matter, however, is that now I know what you did to him. All for what? Just to have him all to yourself? Look how that turned out for you.” The people around us fell silent that’s how I knew Jimin is here. So I took a step closer to her and smiled.
”I never cheated on him but you know this well. This is not even why I feel so angry. The reason why I want to rip your hair out right this instant is not because you spread lies and badmouthed me but because you made him a cheater.”
It’s his first time seeing me after our divorce but I’ve been seeing him these past weeks thanks to the old watch. This time around I was able to look into his eyes and see that boy I fell in love with. We went through so much together, maybe.
Maybe we can overcome this too.
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quazartranslates · 4 years ago
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Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH7
**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**
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Chapter 7: Resurrection Overture (VII)
You couldn't see the difference between day and night in the Village of Dusk. Qi Leren walked in the street and walked towards Dr. Lu's clinic.
After the task in the Holy City, Dr. Lu should have survived—he was still unconscious after being detoxed from ingesting the Nightmare Witch’s poison-medicine, so he was sent back to the Lord’s castle by Qi Leren, perfectly avoiding the chaos in the late hours of the night and once again winning the dangerous task. Qi Leren was convinced that his luck level was off the charts. He couldn't even envy him.
When he came to the door of Dr. Lu's clinic, Qi Leren was vaguely excited. He didn't know how Dr. Lu would react when he saw that he was still alive.
He raised his hand and knocked on the door, and there came Dr. Lu’s faint voice: "I’m going to the grave today, you can’t see the doctor."
Qi Leren kept quiet and knocked on the door.
After knocking for a while, Dr. Lu on the other side became angry and opened the door to denounce the guest who was harassing the doctor. He suddenly saw the smiling Qi Leren standing outside the door looking at him. His face went white with a scream: "Ghost!!!!”
Seeing that the door was about to be thrown closed, Qi Leren flashed sideways into the house and angrily grabbed Dr. Lu, who was about to run. "What happened to your face? Who hit you?"
Dr. Lu, who was black and blue, covered his face and refused to let him see it. Qi Leren pulled him up like a carrot and angrily demanded, "Look, I'm still alive! Come on, who bullied you?!”
Because Dr. Lu looked young, Qi Leren never regarded him as his senior. He usually took special care of him when doing tasks together. Now, he had been bullied like this in the few days that he couldn’t see him, which made him angry.
Dr. Lu completely ignored the second half of his sentence, stared at him for a moment, and then rushed to touch his neck.
It was warm and had a pulse. Dr. Lu cried with a "wow", hugging Qi Leren to death with a strength that he didn’t know he had. Qi Leren was scared by him and wanted to throw him off, but when he heard him cry he became heartbroken and softened, standing patiently as he waited for him to calm down.
When Dr. Lu finished crying, Qi Leren's shirt was soaked, and he wondered where he’d gotten so many tears.
"I saw your body with my own eyes," Dr. Lu said with a stuffed up voice, his nose and eyes still red.
On the contrary, Qi Leren poured water on him like a master: "I was dead, but I had a resurrection item that allowed me to come back after seven days. I didn't say anything about this, and I made a mess."
Dr. Lu complained bitterly: "Do you know how long I cried?! I cry when I think of it. I'm so sad. I also wanted to clean up your things for you, but there was no key to your house and the door couldn't be opened. I had to cry and go home, I was so ashamed."
Although he has known Qi Leren for a short time, it was a friendship established in a dangerous and terrifying world. Seeing his best friend die, Dr. Lu, who was already full of feelings, was very sad. After the completion of the task in the Holy City, he had followed Ning Zhou to evacuate the residents, and the Holy See’s staff took the living residents away from their hometown. He and Ning Zhou had returned to the Village of Dusk. Ning Zhou was in a bad state along the way. Dr. Lu didn’t dare to cry. When he got home, he had seen the training menu Qi Leren had before, and then got into bed and cried for a long time.
He didn't really feel the deaths he had experienced before. He only felt as if he was playing a game that was too realistic. It wasn't until he saw Qi Leren no longer breathing as he was buried in the tree tomb that Dr. Lu had realized the cruelty of the world.
"Well, don't be sad. You haven't said what happened to your face?" Qi Leren looked at Dr. Lu's face carefully. Dr. Lu's forehead was swollen and covered with an ointment, and his mouth and chin were cracked. It looked miserable.
"I... I fell..." Dr. Lu whispered.
Where would Qi Leren believe this: "You fell all over your face?"
"Really." Dr. Lu showed him his sleeves and bruises on his elbows. "I was born with an uncoordinated cerebellum, poor balance, easy to fall when running, and failed in all sports."
Qi Leren remembered that Dr. Lu mentioned it to him before. At that time, he didn't care. He thought it was an excuse to be lazy.
"Can this be cured?" Qi Leren asked seriously.
"Ah, I’ve been treated? I can just use [Doctor’s Orders], it doesn't hurt anymore, that is, the bruises haven’t returned," Dr. Lu said after a pause.
Qi Leren was distressed yet amused: "I mean, can you cure your coordination problem?"
"No, but more exercise will still improve it some... I’ve also been exercising recently, that is, the training regimen you gave me before... I just always fall, but now I’ve thought of a solution of wearing more clothes when I go running, so when I fall it doesn’t hurt. It's just too tiring, I’ve never been so active in my life," Dr. Lu complained, and secretly glanced at Qi Leren. "Anyway, I’ll work hard and won't hold you back. Oh, my [Doctor’s Orders] have also been upgraded. Now the treatment effect is better. I’ll still milk you in the future. Tanks like you who die particularly easily need a reliable healer like me."
Knowing the cause and effect, Qi Leren was really angry and amused, and lastly he was a little touched. For a long time, he had positioned Dr. Lu's role as a healer who could find 100% of the task items and counterbalance his own luck value, so he didn't expect him to help in battle. Now it seemed that his death had had such a big impact on Dr. Lu. In fact, Dr. Lu had grown a lot more than before.
The two chatted for a long time, and Dr. Lu also carefully told Qi Leren what happened after his death, especially about Ning Zhou. Dr. Lu was very happy to learn that Ning Zhou could come back in a month at most. He accepted the fact that his best friend was gay and he was eager to teach him prostate massage skills that could make even straight men fly up. After being shot down by Qi Leren, Dr. Lu gave him a look of "peerless martial arts will be lost".
Qi Leren was hungry, too. He pilfered the delicious cupcakes Dr. Lu hoarded and ate his meal under Dr. Lu's resentful gaze.
"Those are my favorite ones... I waited in line for three hours to buy them." Dr. Lu wanted to cry.
"I just died and you were in the mood to line up to buy cupcakes, confiscated!" Qi Leren ate two of them and thought they tasted really good. No wonder they were so popular.
Dr. Lu looked at the cakes with a flat mouth amid his grief: "I was going to take them to your grave to offer them to you."
"Oh, I'll take them." Qi Leren smiled and smashed half a cupcake, stuffing it into Dr. Lu's mouth. "Well, you eat it too. It tastes really good."
Dr. Lu, who is good at buying, said happily, "As long as you don't die, I’ll buy it for you every day."
"Bah, don’t say something so unlucky! I don't want to die again," Qi Leren said.
"But you always die when you use S/L Data," Dr. Lu poked a knife in his sore spot.
“……”
The two men hurt each other for a while, and Qi Leren became tired. Because Dr. Lu had no extra bed at home, he ruthlessly robbed Dr. Lu of his bed. Heedless of the fact that Dr. Lu, who had been robbed of the bed, was whining off to the side, he fell asleep rolled up in the blanket.
He had another nightmare.
In his dream, he returned to the church at the top of the old site of the Vatican and stopped in front of the huge stone door.
He held out his hand to push the door open, and his remaining reason screamed at the top of its lungs telling him to stop, but in his dream he was ignorant and fearless and bravely pushed open the door.
The deceiver is watching him with a charming smile.
Blinded by shock at that moment, Qi Leren had no time to take in the smile on Su He's face. He actually laughed with no malice, only a hint of ponder and ridicule, just like a human watching crickets fighting to the death in a jar, watching quietly, wondering which one would win.
Once upon a time, Qi Leren didn't quite understand why Su He always had a calm and casual attitude, as was the case when he first met him. While he and Dr. Lu were extremely nervous, Su He remained composed. Because for him, this was just a cricket game. How could a chess player who could overturn the chessboard at any time be afraid because of the thrills on the chessboard?
Qi Leren dreamed of his death again.
His throat’s trachea was cut, and the pain of suffocation and the weakness from blood loss brought back to him with the dream. He crawled desperately on the cold ground, every inch of distance exhausting him, and his will constantly collapsed as he was tortured by death. He couldn't persist and gave up...
"Qi Leren, Qi Leren wake up!"
Qi Leren suddenly sat up, short of breath and in a cold sweat. Dr. Lu sat by the bed and looked at him anxiously: "You asked me to wake you up at this time... You seemed to be having a nightmare."
"...I'm fine." Qi Leren wiped the cold sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. "Is there any water?"
Dr. Lu poured him a glass of water.
Qi Leren gulped, slow to come over from the nightmare. This dream reminded him that Su He might already know about his resurrection, and he might make another action. He had to be careful that Du Yue wouldn’t leak the Nightmare Game. At the end of the day, this was actually his fault. If he was making the arrangements now, his first choice would be to ask Chen Baiqi that if anything happened to him, she should give his letter to the Courthouse’s Prophet.
It was a pity that when he wrote the letter, it was during the time when he accepted the role of "Red". At that time, he and Chen Baiqi weren’t very familiar with each other, and he didn't like the Court, and he didn't even know about the Prophet. Naturally, he couldn't be as thoughtful as he was now.
He could only mend things by getting a contract from Chen Baiqi for Du Yue to sign, swearing that he would keep this secret.
His appointed time with Chen Baiqi was coming. Qi Leren got up, put himself together, and walked towards Chen Baiqi's home.
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Editor’s Notes: I love Dr. Lu so much 😭😭😭 He’s like an awkward parent who texts you about a cute cashier that he thinks is gay after you come out to him because he’s trying too hard to show that he’s supportive
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whatifxwereyou · 3 years ago
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Ashes Chapter 9: City Lights
Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader
A good night, for the most part. You search for peace amongst the stars but you find something else instead. I hate writing summaries. Lol.
A/N: Hope you're all doing well. Thanks for reading! I'll be busy on Sunday because it's my birthday, but I will still be updating~
First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index
Afternoon became an evening spent with Cole, Allison, and Emily. You ate an early dinner, returned to the hotel, and found one of Johnny Cage’s movies to watch. You mostly laughed at it. “Gist of My Fist’ was a terrible name for a movie and the movie itself, while it wasn’t the worst movie that you had ever watched, was pretty up there. You had no qualms with bad movies. Watching it had at least prepared you for tomorrow if you had to use your arcana to persuade the actor into helping you.
When they were ordering room service and preparing another movie you said your farewells. It was late, you’d claimed, and you weren’t very hungry. You were socially exhausted, and you really weren’t hungry. So, it hadn’t exactly been a lie. It had been ages since you’d spent that much time with anyone outside of Kung Lao and Liu Kang in a social setting and it had drained you. You had forgotten how exhausting other people could be. They were incredibly nice, and you had become more comfortable around them, but you still needed to recharge your social battery.
That and you had to resist going to the bar for a drink.
Whiskey had been your lullaby nearly every night after Kung Lao had died.
Waking up next to Liu Kang had sobered you up but it had been days since then and your brain was so loud. A little drink would quiet it down. It was a bad idea, and you knew that but it didn’t mean you didn’t want to. The price of liquor at the hotel was enough to make you decide to think on it.
Instead, you decided to go to the roof where there was a garden setup for guests. At that late at night most people were leaving the garden, bothered by the nighttime bugs. You sat away from those who remained for some time, watching the world pass by below and the clouds moving over the ocean in the distance.
As time passed, you were left alone. You were both grateful for the silence and frustrated by the thoughts that immediately filled it. There had been a time where you’d been grateful to be alone and now it was torture. Raiden had been right to send Liu with you except that he was a big part of the reason that your thoughts were torture.
A pretty substantial part of why your thoughts were torture, actually.
What did anything mean anymore? You didn’t know.
Seated on one of the garden benches, you stayed silent for a long time. Once certain you were alone, you dared to do something that you hadn’t done since he’d died.
You drew Kung Lao.
He stood before you, tall, with a permanent look of smug satisfaction on his face. You walked around him and admired the details in his clothing right down to the misplaced thread on his favorite shirt. Then you stood beside him and watched the night sky. The stars were few and far between. There were too many lights in that part of the world to see the majesty of the night sky that you had admired only nights before alongside Liu Kang.
“I miss you.” You knew that the drawing couldn’t respond. It wasn’t real. Kung Lao was gone. You were alone. “I wish that I could talk to you. I wish I could tell you all the things that I made you wait to hear.” All you’d wanted was a conversation. A real conversation about what he thought marriage meant, about the fighting you’d done in the past few months. A moment for you to be honest about your history with Liu Kang.
Instead, he’d died and you’d never gotten the chance to say yes. You’d never gotten to understand what any of it had meant. You should have just said yes, damnit.
Liu Kang’s words were eating you alive.
Had your connection to him made you hesitate? He’d broken your heart and you’d gotten over him, sort of. You’d distanced yourself, at least. Now you were tearing yourself apart from the inside out because you were afraid it was true. What did it matter if it was? You would never know. Even so, you fixated next to the carefully crafted apparition of a man that you’d loved with your whole heart.
Nothing about this was healthy.
You were exhausted.
Stepping back from the drawing of Kung Lao, you lowered into a ready position. When you’d been angry with each other, bored, or you were frustrated, Kung Lao would spar with you. It usually ended up with you wrestling around laughing or in bed. Sometimes both. The drawing of Kung Lao did as you asked. It fought you and for a time it was soothing to keep up the action of something that you were good at.
You lost your balance on the stone and the ink caught you, wrapping its arms around you, and pulling you close against it. You admired his face and he smiled. He smiled because you wanted him to smile. Just the way that he used to. His hand cupped your cheek and you leaned into it, resting your hand over his.
Your eyes misted with tears. “I’m sorry, Kung Lao.” Time was supposed to heal all things but you weren’t sure that anything could do away with the guilt you felt. Closing your eyes, you tried to pretend that the hand wasn’t cold, dark ink. It was his warm and comforting hand. He would be there smiling down at you, telling you that you’d worried over nothing. You’d overthought it.
Then you were falling, your footing completely lost. Water pulled back from the shore, moving further and further away. It would come back tall and angry; it was a pattern you recognized. It meant you had to run but you couldn’t move. Hadn’t you been on the roof? The sand was hot beneath your toes and you were stuck. Your body was rooted firmly in place beyond your control.
The water rose in a wild roar, obscuring the sky with a sun that burned a brilliant red. You tried to scream, to warn others who might be in danger but there was no one. The air was suffocatingly hot, scorching. But as the wave grew closer, your stomach dropped into a tremendous pit and you felt sick. The air stunk of death and a wave of bodies soared toward you, towering high above. Winged creatures like giant bugs flew overhead through the dark skies. They were massive and you tried to get a better look, but the sun was so bright you couldn’t make out much of their features.
A dark figure stood before the wave of bodies surrounded by the roaring of souls. A hand grabbed your arm and turned you around swiftly.
Kung Lao.
Your heart stopped.
“You have to run, Y/N,” he whispered with such urgency that you swore it was really him. There was no way. It wasn’t possible! Before your eyes, his skin became sallow and sickly, deteriorating and rotting, cracked and filled with green mist. You fought his grip in a panic and pulled back. “Y/N…”
Your feet unstuck from the sand and you gasped, falling backwards. You braced yourself for the fall but instead you were saved by a pair of strong, inky arms. You grasped desperately onto the form and caught your breath. Your lungs ached as though they were being crushed.
The drawing of Kung Lao had caught you.
You buried yourself against the drawing’s chest and sobbed as you caught your breath.
This was not Kung Lao. Your grasp on the drawing tightened.
It was Liu Kang.
Panicked, you dropped the magic and collapsed to your knees out of breath and trembling from head to toe. You were clammy and dripping with sweat. Cursing under your breath you held your head in your hands. That hadn’t been a dream. The other night hadn’t been either. You should have known better. What did it mean? And what were you going to do about it? You had to talk to Raiden. He would know what to do.
This was the last thing that you needed right now.
Stumbling to your feet you made your way back to the garden bench just as the door opened behind you. Resting your elbows on your knees, you fanned your face and tried to will away the nausea left behind by the vision. It was already disappearing from your memory. You’d never been good at interpreting what your visions meant. They’d mostly made you sick.
Liu Kang stopped on the other side of the garden bench and avoided your eyes. “Oh.”
“I can go.” You needed a minute to be steady on your feet, but you’d had your time on the roof with the few stars.
“You don’t have to. I just wanted to see the stars.” He folded his arms over his chest.
“Too much light pollution. You can’t see much.” You pushed your hair away from your face and rested your hands on your knees afterwards. The world was still spinning. Liu was watching you and then sat next to you on the bench.
“Are you okay?” He made to rest a hand on your back but stopped himself.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re gray.”
“I’m tired. That’s all.”
“I haven’t seen you this gray since you first came to the temple, and you had…” He drifted off as if realizing exactly why you were that gray. You wanted to deny it until you could talk to Raiden, but your body betrayed you. You were too tired to fake it. Your fingers were tingling with numbness, and you were nauseous.
“Yeah.” You sighed. “I’m fine.”
“If you had a vision, you would tell me, right?”
“I’m not in the mood for this.”
“Y/N, don’t be unreasonable.”
“Do you have a reason to still be talking to me? Or are you just here to make tonight harder?” You didn’t mean to snap at him and immediately regretted it. You were feeling sick and defensive. Also, you had accidentally made him out of ink for the first time in years and wondered what that meant for your subconscious.
He smiled. You turned away and pouted. “I thought you’d been lying about having a temper to make me feel better.” You puffed up your cheeks in frustration. “I owe you another apology, I think.” He counted on his fingers, and you turned back to watch him. “That’s the third one this week, right?”
“You probably owe me more than one apology at this point.”
“Yeah, but how many times can I apologize before it becomes meaningless?” He was trying to joke with you, and you needed to try and unclench. It was bad timing, all of it. “I am though. Sorry, that is. Not about last night, well maybe about pushing you so hard but… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take any of this out on you.”
“I know.” Perhaps that was part of why it had hurt so badly. None of it had ever felt like your Liu Kang. “I’m sorry too. I handled it poorly.”
“I’ve been told that we’re grieving.” He clasped his hands before him.
“Yeah, that’s what we keep saying.”
“I had an idea.”
“Is this idea going to make us yell at each other? Because if it is then I would very much like the chance to reschedule.”
“I honestly don’t know. I don’t think it will.” His brow furrowed into a line.
“Well, go for it, I guess. Idea away.”
“I’m grieving in my own way.” He shrugged but he looked weighed down and you felt guilty again. “Not well, obviously. And you’re grieving in your own way too. Also, poorly I might add.”
“I thought you said that you weren’t picking a fight.”
“I’m not.” He reassured you. “I thought that maybe we could try grieving together.” He was staring at you again, and you sighed heavily.
“I don’t know, Liu.” You could think of a dozen reasons why that was a bad idea and wouldn’t work off the top of your head. But it was the first non-confrontational thing he’d done in days. “He was your brother. You lost something like a limb. I love Kung Lao but what we had was different. Our grief is not the same.”
“Your grief is no less significant than mine, Y/N.”
“It is, Liu. You lost more than I did. I know what I lost. But it’s different. You lost so much more.” Your eyes were burning again. God, you were so frustrated with your emotions.
“And now I’m losing you too.” Liu spoke with a bite of frustration and then looked as if it was taking all his focus not to lash out. “I don’t want to lose you, Y/N.”
“I can’t fill the void that Lao left behind.”
“I don’t want you to. I don’t even want you to fill the void that you left behind.” He held his head in his hands. You wanted to say you didn’t do that, he had pushed you away, but you also knew why he’d done it. This was a terrible mixed bag of emotions. If you said that then you would definitely end up fighting again. You held your tongue. “I miss you. I don’t need you to fill a void. I just need you.”
“Liu…” You hesitated and felt the guilt in the pit of your stomach again. But he was asking for something for himself, and you couldn’t tell him no. He never asked for anything for himself. He picked up your hand like it were something delicate and you felt your heart just aching. What would Kung Lao do if he could see you now? In your mind’s eye you could see him resting his hands on your shoulders and telling you it was okay. But that was just what you wanted to see.
“Don’t do that, Y/N.” Liu’s eyes were glassy too and he turned away. “You’re allowed to have feelings.”
“Isn’t this part of why we keep fighting?” You sniffled but didn’t pull your hand away from his. “You keep making assumptions about what I’m feeling. Saying things without thinking first. You have no idea what’s going on in my head, Liu Kang.”
“I’m not trying to start a fight, I promise.” Liu closed his eyes as if to try and recite what he would say so it wouldn’t come out wrong. He used to be so thoughtful. This really was taking a toll on you both. “I just know you well enough, or I think I do, to see that you’re beating yourself up for things that are beyond your control.”
“I…” You hesitated and then pulled your hand back. “Kung Lao…”
“Kung Lao loved you, Y/N.” Liu Kang said with a huff. Did he resent that he had? “He wanted you to be happy. It would crush him to see you now.”
“I know that, Liu. I know and… he would have wanted that for you too. You always put your needs beneath his and he let you without realizing, I think and…” You didn’t mean to say that, and Liu was staring at you in surprise as if he hadn’t realized that he’d been doing that either. When you caught his gaze, he turned to avoid you. You were playing an extremely dangerous game of cat and mouse. “It’s impossible to know what might have been, Liu Kang. To know how it would have turned out. What he would have wanted. No matter how I spin it in my head there is nothing to be done that can change the truth that he’s gone.” You spoke slowly and carefully, not wanting to escalate the sudden tension further if you could help it. It only ended one of two ways and both of those were destructive. “No matter what I tell myself… it doesn’t ease my guilt.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” Liu was sounding bitter again and you held your head in your hands once more. You were still nauseous. This was the worst.
“I don’t have it in me to fight with you tonight, Liu,” you whispered. “I just don’t. Give me a day or two and we can be at each other’s throats again.”
“I don’t want to fight with you, Y/N.” He turned to you again. “We need to talk.”
“I know but I’m not sure we can do that without fighting.” You closed your eyes. You sat in uncomfortable silence, a now common occurrence. Your stomach was in knots.
“Are you sick because you had a vision? Or are you sick with grief, Y/N?” His tone was soft as if he were trying to ask a hard question without making it sound like a confrontation. You whined.
“I had a vision, okay?” You confessed. “I don’t know what it means. I need to talk to Raiden. It’s already almost gone. I remember a beach. I remember… being stuck and then I fell and…” The details were like drops of soap in water. Impossible to catch once they’d been mixed in. “I’ll be fine. It had just happened when you got here.”
“Have you eaten?”
“I had dinner with Cole and his family.” You decided to turn the tables on him. “Have you eaten?” He looked affronted.
“I… no… ummm…”
“Pot, kettle, black.” You poked his shoulder, and he smiled a little. “Stop worrying about me. Don’t fixate on it. I’m fine. Raiden will figure it out when we get back.” You reassured him and then sat there together quietly again, unsure what to say. You did know one thing, at least. “You need to eat.”
“I ate earlier, just been since this morning.”
“I stand by what I said.”
“I’ll eat if you come with me.” He suggested. “We can grab a drink in Kung Lao’s honor and reminisce. Try that grieving thing together.”
“That’s a terrible idea.” You laughed as he looked instantly insulted. “Liu, us and liquor? Historically? Not good.” Liquor made the consequences seem less significant. It made you care less about what went wrong. It clearly made him a little bolder, too.
“Oh, yeah, I didn’t think about that.” He smiled a little. “No alcohol then. I just thought that it might make it easier to talk about the things that we are finding difficult to talk about if we had a drink.”
“Well, it would make some things easier but who knows how we’d feel about that tomorrow.” You wished, just for a brief second, that you remembered the night you’d had. You got all the trouble without any of the fun! You were sure that you’d had fun, but you couldn’t remember it, dammit.
“How about it, Y/N? We go downstairs to the bar, grab some food, no alcohol… we just… talk. Grieve.”
You considered it. You weren’t sure how that was going to work. You were in a place where the slightest thing could turn your conversation into an argument at the drop of a hat. But if you could find common ground to stand on then maybe it might make the rest of what you needed to say less painful.
“Okay.” You finally replied and Liu Kang seemed genuinely surprised.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. The truth is, Liu, that I miss you. This has been so incredibly trying and difficult for so many reasons. I swear though, if you make me cry again? I am going to punch you. No more slapping. Big ol’ punch. You will have a black eye to explain.” You didn’t think you’d actually punch him, but the threat was a little funny.
“Honestly, I am impressed that you haven’t yet.” Liu Kang stood and offered you his hand. “I stand by most of what I said though, even if I apologized.” He shrugged and you ran your tongue over your teeth and narrowed your eyes at him.
“Don’t start, Liu.”
Next Chapter >>
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myfeetkeepdancing · 4 years ago
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A Devil’s Toy  |  Arvin Russell x Male!Reader
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Request: Crossover where Arvin gets connected with the symbiote? Because Spidey!Arvin seems silly and unfitting but Venom!Arvin is kind of 😳😳😳
Words: 3694
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The town you lived in was always quiet. The birds chirped happily in the tree, nature at it's best. Cars approaching from the forest road were easily heard from miles away. Sorting the groceries you just brought home, a distant sound shakes you from your thought. Fast-paced footsteps approach your house from the treeline. They certainly were running. Before you were able to shove the curtain aside, you hear a voice call out your name. Repeatedly.
"Arvin?" You speed to the door, opening it for him. "What happened?" Eyeing the dirty cloth wrapped around his lower right arm. As you looked closer, it covered most of his lower arm. You couldn't see his hand nor wrist. His eyes were narrow, heaving for air, as he clutched his other hand tightly on the cloth. This wasn't the first time Arvin came in like this. In all those years you'd known him, he got in a lot of fights, with the necessary injuries. He won most of them, but some… He knew he was outmatched, yet it is as if he didn't care. As if the greater the challenge, the bigger the appeal.
"G-Get… me… a... k-...k-knife." He stuttered through the heaving breaths, unwrapping the cloth from his arm. You seat him down at the kitchen table and quickly bring him a large knife. For what was the question right now, but you never questioned Arvin. And if you did, most of the time, he didn't answer. At first, you didn't notice any blood as the cloth opened up. His denim jacket still in good shape. You notice how nervous and anxious he is. Eyeing his surroundings constantly. Trust was something Arvin didn't have. At least in most people. You always managed with him. But something was off about Arvin. He kept everything in check. As if he was expecting something or someone.
"Help me (Y/N)-..." He snarled while ripping the last the piece of cloth from his hand. "-get this off me." Struck by fear, revolt, and sheer terror, you jolt back a few steps. Covering your mouth with one hand.
"W-Wha… What is that?!" Arvin's hand was completely black, not from sickness. As far as you knew from a first glance. Because it moved. Your bowels churned in revolt. Feeling your earlier snack rise in distaste. The tar-like ooze moved and pulsated around his hand and lower arm.
"I DON'T KNOW!" He screamed, grabbing the knife. "I don't know! Just get it off me!" Trying to scrape it off with the sharp end. He shook all over, struggling to place the blade against the moving substance. From both angles, it was impossible to decide if he was going to strike the goo or his own skin. His hesitation held the blade at bay. "Goddammit! Help me (Y/N)!" He angrily shot at you.
"C-Can you move your hand?"
"Eh… Yes... "He said, seeing them move shakingly. "I can feel it..."
"Alright… Alright…." Grabbing his coat. "Take it off." You command, pulling him onto his feet. "We have to know how far it's-…"
"(Y/N)?" He asked with widening eyes. Seeing the fear struck in your eyes. "What's-…"
Step by step, you back up from Arvin. Feeling the trembles take over your body as the level of eye contact with him slowly rises. This had to be a nightmare. What Arvin's legs once were, wrapped in jeans, were now encased in the same black ooze from earlier. Forming a new pair of legs for him. And rapidly consuming the rest of his frame. The stuff that ate away at Arvin had towered over you faster than you could believe. Slowly stepping your way. Only Arvin's face now left. You wanted to scream out your lungs, call for Arvin. Wanted to help him. But all sense had left you. Terror had overcome you. Especially when you saw the rows of gigantuous, white razor-sharp teeth erupt out from the black being's skin. Engulfing Arvin's face from its forehead and chin. In a matter of seconds, Arvin had disappeared completely. Taken by the black pulsating goo that stood before you. A pair of white oval eyes stared at you as the jawline with long teeth stretched into what could be described as a smile.
With your back against the wall, the only response you could muster was throwing the closest thing beside you at it. A cup. It did nothing. The black mass towered over you as your legs buckled and crashed to the floor. "A-A...A-...Arvin...??"
"Well hello…" The creature spoke with a haunting voice. "Arvin is currently occupied... elsewhere." Chuckling to himself. As its jaws opened, your nightmare was complete. A red, ribbed, slimy tentacle of a tongue stretched outwards. Licking its so-called teeth. "He'll be fine, though." Approaching you, as you tried to crawl away. "I promise." It smiled; the drips of slime dangled from its teeth. "For now, I am hungry..."
"P-P-Please… I…" You pleaded, covering your eyes with your arms. Shielding you from the horror that was in front of you. The tears finally showing. Its arms were massive, bulking masses of muscles. It claws with sharp talons close to striking distance.
"Ooooow." It arched back up. "I see... "Nodding in sudden amusement at your shuddering frame, held in a fetus position. "Now, I get it." It chuckled. "I get it." Looking around the room. "I can't touch your lover." You notice the innards of the black ooze struggle and fight.
"A-Arvin's still in there…?"
"Oh, Yes." It said before the black ooze curled back from Arvin's face. Revealing him alive, and surprisingly well.
"I'm sorry (Y/N)!" He said. "There was this truck-" And as Arvin was telling his story, you notice the body language of the thing. Mimicking Arvin's way of speaking. As if Arvin was controlling the black ooze. But somehow was also… alive? Sentient? The story was impossible to follow as you watch the movements, streamlined with Arvin's. This was impossible. But you were glad Arvin was alive.
"Wh-... What was that about-... about...?" You shook your head, conflicted by so many things. "I have so many questions."
There was little time for Arvin to react as the ooze slipped back over his face. He protested; you could see the struggle. But somehow, the ooze retook control. "Sorry lovey-doveys… But it's time. Allow me to introduce myself." Bowing before you. "I'm Venom, and Arvin here-..." Tapping its belly. "-...is my new host." Laughing amusingly. "Together, we're going to have so much fun."
It's pale white eyes stared at you, as if it was expecting something from you. "And you are?" It asked. "It's customary to introduce yourself to newcomers."
"(Y/N)." You said in a shaken voice. "I'm (Y/N)."
"Well, I already knew that." It looked back up again. "I played along, out of kindness." Giving you a nod and a smile. Before turning its attention back to its surroundings. "Anyway. I hear them." It stopped, eyeing the direction the sound came from. It doesn't take much for your trained ears to hear the footsteps in the distance. The rushed, fast-paced ones. Cracking leaves and branches as they approached. Some walked with a determined stride. But they were with many.
"I thought it was you at first." It quipped back, showing you a sort of smile. "But I was wrong. Sorry!" The smile was highly uncomfortable to watch, the rows of teeth showing high and wide. The stench was something that came second. But not any better.
"I… I don't know what you're talking about." Keeping your eyes on the lumbering figure standing in the room. It somehow had a muscular physique to it, despite the otherwordly colors. Black and rippled with some sort of veins protruding from its so-called skin. It's highly disturbing to look at.
"Little Arvin and I will explain later." Moving its arm towards you. Every movement made you jump. Especially this, seeing its talons close in. "Don't worry." It smiled, seeing you repulse from fear, with your back against the wall. "I won't hurt you." It said, but its tone was more taunting than comfortable at this point.
"Take this." Opening his black oozing hand to you. The skin bubbled and moved as something began to emerge. From the torso, something slid underneath the skin towards the hand. The happening alone made you sick. "Arvin won't need it." Revealing the gun, you knew Arvin carried with him from time to time. "He has a better weapon now." He grinned, tossing it in your lap as it looked for the newcomers.
"W-Wh… What do I do?" You've had practice with a gun. That was a fact. Arvin had shown you, taught you. But at this point. You were completely blank—pulling at the magazine. Trying to get the damn mechanism to work. But your shaking hands struggle to make anything work right now.
 "You phew phew that thingie-... "Pointing at the gun with its talons. "-at any one of those outside." It said while watching you struggle. "Plenty of targets."
 "I… I… don't…" You stammer, dropping it to the floor. "Fuck…!" Cursing more under your breath while you clammy hands struggle to pick it up.
You recoil back against the wall, not that you could go further. The oozes torso ripple and move as you saw Arvin reach out. His entire upper torso revealing from the black ooze. "Come 'ere." He said while handling the gun. Cocking and reloading it. It surprised you to see Arvin this relaxed. Normally his anger would have surfaced and lost control over the situation. But now, he seemed convinced about what was about to happen.
You jump scare a little as a magazine for the gun popped into your lap. "Found this in his back pocket." Venom said as the hole in his shoulder closed.
He took your one hand, his grip firm and reassuring, warm to the touch, to the point of bolstering your confidence. For a moment, you're lost in each other eyes, feeling a sense of humanity return. Bringing you back as he helped to put your fingers on the gun. Closing your second hand around the other. "Use it if you have to." He said. "Stay safe."
"Arvin… How do we know if they're-" Your voice was cut off. The air knocked from your lungs. As the world around you was reduced to splinters, smoke, and glass. Eardeafening explosions shook you to the very bone. It all happened so fast. In that split second, the door at the other end of the room was reduced to mere splinters. Chunks of wood scattered across the floor and dug itself into softer material than itself. A loud ring sounded in your ears as you lost your bearings completely. Your vision had doubled, twice, or thrice—more than enough to see Venom move away from you. Through the whirling dust and flying wood splinters, you see it darting across the floor. The room wasn't that big, but in an instance, it sat upon the figure standing in the doorframe. Its scream didn't reach your ear because it didn't have time to. You shouldn't have blinked, but your ramshackle mind had too. Before you had any further chance to see what was happening. The figure had disappeared. Leaving Venom standing there, licking its teeth with that weird-looking tongue.
You jolt back into life as you feel the air coming back into your lungs. Coughing the dust and dirt up from your windpipe, it had forced itself in. A shock racked your frame as an object hit your foot. "Keep that safe." Venom's voice called out, noticing the large shotgun in front of you. Before you looked up and responded to him. Venom was already gone. Luckily your vision had begun to come back. To your shock, around you was a circle of splinters and fragments of other metal embedded deep into the wall. Struck by panic again, you check yourself. Hands, legs, arms. A relieved smile cracked your lips. You weren't hurt. Venom and Arvin had most certainly protected you from the blast. Seeing the damage all around you. It was one mass of destruction. With your courage gathered, and like any natural instinct kicking in, you try to get up on your legs. Water. You needed water. And eye the sink.
Shards of glass shatter across the counter as you duck back to the floor. You try to stay low, hunched as the sound of gunshots increased. The automatic fire increased as voices called out. Unfamiliar and loud. Commands were given. Screaming, yelling. They must have seen you as the bullets tore through the windows. The impact clearly seen on the walls. Ripping and tearing through every inch of the house. You duck lower to the ground. Terrified to the bone. Frames falling from the wall, and shelves coming loose. Everything went flying as the bullets tore it all apart. You didn't dare to look up. Broken glass and furniture flew through the air. Nothing was safe. Feeling the chances of survival slim by every passing moment.
Outside was this constant carnage, ripped screams. Trees being felled and branches snapping like twigs in a storm. It was a warzone outside. You could hear it, feel it—the tearing of limbs and flesh. The cries of the injured were short-lived. If there were any at all. With the sense of time and place lost in the heat of battle. The sound of battle and slowly began dying down. Less and less guns were being fired. Arvin better returns in one piece; you prayed to the Lord. In a moment like this, faith was a scapegoat option. Because you felt helpless and prayed for a good outcome.
The sound of someone approaching across the porch nailed you to the floor. Once the bullets had started tearing through the walls, surely targeting you, you had fallen to the floor. Flat on your stomach in the dirt and debris. Praying for your life. And now you lay there, with the gun in reach of you. You frantically crawl towards it, realizing too late that you were trudging through the glass splinters. But the adrenaline kept you going. Your fingers shuddered across the cold metal of the gun. Struggling to get a grip on it again.
As the heavy treads of boots stamped across the porch towards the already blasted open door. The voice of a man, different than Arvin's. Talking to someone. Tears had already flooded your vision as you brought the iron sights up along your eyesight. Clouding your vision. The gun shook terribly in your hand, as you crawled back up against the wall where you sat earlier. Countless holes had penetrated through the wall, now shafts of light shining through. It's mystical to see the dust flying around in the sudden silence. Only focused on the impending footsteps.
You squinted your eyes, trying to avoid the look on the person's face once you had pulled the trigger. You knew the mechanism; it was rough. Requiring a strong pull on the trigger to fire. "ARVIN!" You screamed from the top of your lungs. Crying out for help. "VENOM!" Tears rolled down your cheeks as your gaze swept to the other end size. The backdoor flew open with force.
"Son of a bitch is here!" Another voice called from the back. Taking steps into the house. Hearing the floor creak under the weight. You swing the gun back and forth. Not sure who was going to show up first. Either way, they were closing in on you. You knew the layout better than the intruders. You knew where the backdoor was, and how he had to walk down the hallway into the kitchen. You swing back to the front door. The one in the back had to be a few footsteps away from you.
The flash blinded you for a moment, rocking your entire frame as the gun fired its bullet down the barrel. Smashing through the wooden wall into the hallway. Splintering chunks of wood across the floor and into the hallway. A hushed curse came from the hallway. Your eyes catch movement at the front door. Everything went so fast. The man appeared in the doorway, almost in a veil-like light, holding a rifle. When a tentacle of blackness shot up into its side. Gurgled screams shot up from its shuddering frame. His arms go limb as the rifle hits the floor, and disappears as fast as he appeared. Not a scream, nothing. Just gone. A glimpse of white eyes and teeth are more than enough to reassure Venom and Arvin were there. A relief. Seeing the black mass surge past the doorframe off the hallway. A short burst of automatic fire forced you back into that scared fetal position as it connected with all sorts of pottery in the kitchen beside you. Piercing through the wall, shattering plates, pans, and cups. But silenced with a gurgle of blood and air, followed by a hard thud on the floor. The only thing you could hear was your own ragged breath and spend cartridges rolling on the floor.
 "(Y/N)?" Arvin sped around the corner, seeing the last of Venom's skin disappear behind him. "You alright?" You nodded as you caught your breath, slowly sitting yourself back up again. Arvin didn't need an answer. He saw the small cuts and splinters in your forearm. He looked around through the destruction, searching that familiar cabinet that now had fallen to the floor. Kicking the broken pieces away with his feet. Fishing the first aid out. By now, he knew quite well where to find it. Approaching you with a caring look on his face, yet also a smile. A rare smile for Arvin. "You look like shit." He said, looking down at you with that same taunting smile.
"T-That's..." You laughed but was interrupted by a rough coughing fit. "T-That's my line."
 "Not today." Handing you a bottle of liquor, he found lying on the floor, surprising intact. "Just like old times. But this time…" He kneeled in front of you, brushing the dust from your lips with his other hand. "I'll help you." Cupping your cheeks in his hands. Your heart already raced from earlier. But in that split second, it skipped several. So it was true what Venom said; that was the last thing that crossed your mind. Before his lips connected with yours. Kissing you with great care and precision. The world had already fallen silent, but now there was nothing more but you and Arvin. "Thank you." You mumbled into the slowly sloppier kiss.
"No problem." Venom responded in his dark voice before Arvin could. The silence was broken by the two of you chuckling softly in each others' embrace. It was true. Venom had done so much for the two of you. He was the reason you both were alive. And together. Finally.
"You still have a lot to learn, Arvin." You groan, locking your jaw as you observe him struggle with the pincers. Trying to remove the last shards and splinters of glass and wood from your arm.
"Sit still." He leaned upwards, giving you a kiss. "I need to concentrate." Ticking the bottle with his pincers, as a sign of telling you to drink.
"How can I... when you kiss me like that." Arvin's proud glance at you said more than enough. With his other hand, he guided the bottle upwards to your lip. He knew how much pain you were having. The adrenaline had worn off quicker than you expected. Arvin knew that all too well. "The preacher won't approve of us." You sighed, rolling your head back against the wall. The liquor slowly numbing your senses.
 "And he ain't a good one, you know that." Arvin hissed. The rest of his muttering was impossible to hear. And it might be for the better. From day one, Arvin didn't have a good hunch about that preacher. But he was shut up by his sister. She believed in him, like so many others.
"Ow, I want to pay him a visit." Venom said, emerging on a string of gooiness beside Arvin's head. "Let's have some fun with him." He smiled viciously. "I can read your mind, Arvin. You hate him. All the more reason to."
"Won't hurt to teach him a lesson…?" Arvin looked at you for approval. As if he needed that from you. You and Arvin were on the same level on so many things. The preacher was one of them. You also didn't go to church for the longest time. To the disapproval of many in the town. But it made the Sunday morning one hell of a good morning. Arvin stopped going too and came around your place at that every Sunday morning.
"You know how I think about him." You grinned. "But what about all this?" Eyeing the interior of your house. "It's ruined." The destruction all around was immense. Bullets had torn everything apart. The table and chairs, reduced to chunks of wood. Large shotgun shells had blasted holes through the walls and wreaked havoc on the interior. It's a wonder the walls were still standing. "I can't live here anymore…"
"I don't know…" Arvin looked around, raking his fingers through his brown curls, lost in his thoughts.
"And how about all those bodies?" The thought had just crossed your mind. You hadn't seen one, but there had to be at least ten of them scattered around your house and littering the forest.
"I'm still hungry…" Venom said, showing its row of teeth, smiling very broadly.
"He ate most of them…" Arvin said, as if that was giving any comfort.
"And then...Arvin? What's next?"
Arvin's gaze was locked elsewhere, thoughts far beyond the room, but said nothing. He hunched on his knees, turned around, and sat himself down beside you. "I don't know…" He sighed, resting his head against the wall. "But we'll figure something out." Putting his arm around you. Resting your head against one another, watching the dust dance in the air through the beams of sunlight, shining through the bullets holes. "Together."
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backtothestart02 · 4 years ago
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Don’t Give Up On Me - 2/? | westallen fanfiction
A/N: Sooo...I’ve decided to make this fic a little longer than initially anticipated. Prob just 3 or 4 chaps instead of 2, but I just couldn’t bring myself to force an ending by the time I got to 2k in this one, so here you go. I hope you enjoy it. More angst with a glimmer of hope at the end.
...
Chapter 2 -
The next morning Iris woke up to the sun shining down upon her face. She moaned softly and stretched her arm across the bed, expecting to feel Barry’s warmth beside her. It was Sunday, after all. Neither of them had to go to work. They could just lie around and-
What, Iris?
Her eyes flickered open as the realization of where they were hit her once again – and the fact that there was no Barry in bed beside her. The warmth from his body was gone as well. Lukewarm sheets greeted her, telling her that he’d been gone for a while.
She frowned and sat up in bed, looking around the room.
“Barry?” she called out wonderingly, but there was no response.
She pulled the covers back and stared down at her legs, which were covered in pajama bottoms, same as the top half of her. Her brows furrowed in confusion. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn these pajamas. These were no-sex pajamas. These were ‘I’m dead to the world, let me sleep’ pajamas. These were when she was mad at Barry for trying to seduce her when she’d made it clear she didn’t want that pajamas. And her next dawning realization was that she hadn’t been the one to put them on.
Barry had.
That broke her heart.
The night flashed before her eyes with blinding certainty. She and Barry had spent the day mostly apart. Again. He’d gone on a late afternoon run in the rain. Which mystified her still. Then she’d ordered take-out for them when he went to take a shower, and… fallen asleep. She fell asleep!
What a terrible day. And poor Barry!
She wouldn’t blame him if he ate all the food himself!
But something in her gut told her he hadn’t eaten a thing. For the same reason he’d gone for a run in the rain, looked like a poor soaked, abandoned puppy when he returned, and hadn’t woken her when the food arrived.
They were growing apart, and he blamed himself.
Well, it is his faul-
She tried to be honest with herself. But she knew it wasn’t the truth. She was to blame too. She might be struggling to come to terms with what happened between her husband and her evil doppleganger, but refusing to talk about it directly with Barry was driving them apart. He was overcompensating for her silence by giving her space, by not trying to coerce kissing or sex out of her, by not complaining, but hell, he had to be torturing himself on the inside.
If she knew Barry, and she did, that was exactly what he was doing.
She hadn’t even been able to read his love letters he left her anymore – the only proof that he was still the old Barry she knew, and everything was right with them in some way. She tucked the new letters away in a drawer in her desk, telling her she’d read them when she was ready, when they were okay again. But there was no way he hadn’t caught on to her not mentioning them when she came home from work these past two weeks. Not when the week before them she’d been unable to stop gushing.
Damn, what had happened?
When did she go from not being able to be separate from him for more than a few minutes to needing a six feet separation at almost all times – and not for the reason the rest of the world was doing it?
She missed his presence now. Not just missed it but craved it.
She had to get past what happened with Mirror Iris, and she knew she wouldn’t until she’d had an honest discussion with Barry. She just didn’t want to have it.
God, she missed them so much she could hardly breathe.
She wanted desperately to go back to the time before the mirrorverse. To that first week after Crisis when they hadn’t been able to get enough of each other, because Barry was alive. She no longer had to worry about Nora growing up without father or herself being widowed at such a young age. They had their whole lives ahead of them now. Nothing could keep them apart.
Until it did.
Shivering somehow from her dark thoughts, she slipped into her fuzzy slippers and made her way down the stairs – after quick popping in the bathroom to see if Barry was there…nope. Maybe he was in the kitchen making breakfast? Not there either. She spotted breakfast though. Pancakes and sausage and bacon and eggs. And orange juice.
She bristled suddenly, wondering if he’d used the expensive juicer Mirror Iris had bought to make him that fancy breakfast that tasted better than hers ever would, and now if she did really try and make something good for him, it would remind him of her copy self. She couldn’t even win that way. She couldn’t win at all.
But Barry’s note next to the food made her eat, reminded her she was hungry, and that even if he wasn’t here, he could maybe see when he returned that she’d eaten his food, that she was grateful. Because she had a husband who cared. Who was trying desperately to make up for something that he had no control over and had been blind to.
But he shouldn’t have been.
She forced her fingers to relax on her fork and read the note again.
Good morning,
Sorry I wasn’t here when you got up. Went for a run.
Enjoy breakfast!
I love you.
Barry
Tears filled her eyes, a few trickling down her cheeks.
How in the world could she hate this man? How could anyone?
And she didn’t hate him, she realized, not for the first time. She convinced herself she did, and that’s why she was so afraid to be honest with him, really honest. She didn’t want to push him away. He was the love of her life. She needed him desperately, even if she hadn’t been acting like it the last couple weeks.
But if she didn’t hate him, then what was holding her back from putting the incident behind her? Was it Mirror Iris she hated? She could understand that. She couldn’t put all her hatred on someone that was quite literally a pile of glass now, so she put it on Barry who had been a willing participant, even though he hadn’t understood the situation for what it was. The true culprit here was Eva McCulloch. She’d started everything by pulling her into the Mirrorverse and creating her doppleganger at the same time. Eva was defeated now. Not dead but driven mad, a fate worse than death as far as Iris was concerned. So who was there left to hate?
Herself?
She swallowed.
She’d gone alone in the middle of the night to Eva McCulloch’s old office. She’d thought she’d find something vital and ended up being the damsel in distress she swore she wasn’t anymore. She’d gotten herself out eventually – and Kamilla and Singh with her, but… At what cost?
Did Barry see her evil doppleganger every time he looked at her?
She shook her head and put away her dishes and the remaining food. She didn’t know where Barry was, but she knew they needed to talk. She needed to be open and honest with him, really honest. She needed to tell him that she didn’t know where her emotions lie exactly but that she didn’t hate him. What she hated was the distance between them. She wasn’t blind to it. It was impossible to ignore.
She licked her lips and retrieved her phone to text him. He was probably still on his run, or maybe he’d gotten swept away with Flash business. Either way, she knew he’d come to her as soon as he could.
That was just the kind of husband he was – devoted, selfless, generous, unrelenting in his love for her.
But just as she was about to open her latest message from him to type a new one, a gust of wind blew around her followed by a brief flash of light. By the time everything settled, Barry was before her – a little out of breath, a little sweaty, but gorgeous and reassuring and safe for her.
Probably not expecting her to be so near when he came in the door, Barry stopped suddenly.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” she said timidly, swallowing again.
His brows furrowed instantly.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yeah,” she lied. “I mean, I was just about to text you…to see when you were coming back. I…missed you.”
A heavy weight seemed to have been lifted from his shoulders. She realized it had been a while since she’d said anything remotely close to that to him. She scolded herself inwardly.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” he said, his eyes shifting to the floor. “You were sleeping so peacefully.”
She heard the unspoken words behind the thoughtfulness. No nightmares, no tossing and turning, no crying out in her sleep. Her PTSD from the Mirrorverse came in many forms. Difficulty sleeping was the most common and most intense.
“Well, thanks for breakfast. It was delicious.” She took a step towards him and tried for flirtatious when she said, “The note was really sweet too.” Her eyes sparkled.
Barry didn’t quite know what to make of her behavior. A smile tugged at his lips, but he wasn’t sure whether to believe what was spilling out of her mouth or try to come up with an ulterior motive explaining it.
He went with option two.
“Iris…”
“Yeah?”
“What’s going on?”
Sometimes she really hated how he saw right through her. In an effort to dissuade him and approach the issue on her own terms, she lunged forward, clasped her hands around his face, and pulled him down to kiss him.
He reciprocated at first, drinking her in, starved for her it seemed like. She felt electricity spark up and down her spine and wondered if they’d gone into Flashtime, or if the speed force was getting just as excited as the two of them.
But then Barry pulled back, panting.
“What?” she asked, frowning. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to kiss me?”
He leaned his forehead against hers and tried to regain his breath.
“Of course I want to kiss you. It’s been so long, since…” He glanced down at her attire and recalled that he’d been the one to put it there. “Nice pajamas.”
Her lips thinned. “You would know.”
He pulled back entirely but couldn’t make his hands leave hers. He needed to touch her. After so long they’d kissed. They’d held each other. They were so close to regaining ground. He couldn’t lose it completely now.
“Barry…”
He lifted his head to look into her eyes.
“Do you think I’m mad at you?”
He gulped.
“No…” She raised an eyebrow. “Yes…I don’t know.” He shook his head.
“Oh, baby.” She tugged him closer again and pressed their foreheads together once more. “I think we need to talk. Really talk.”
He groaned but not in displeasure.
“I would really love that.”
“Yeah?” she asked, no flirting this time, just sincerity.
He nodded. “I’ve been going out of my mind, Iris. Up all hours of the night, running all hours of the day. Blaming myself for anything that could make you sad or upset. If it’s right for me to do that, I need to know. If it’s not-”
“It’s not,” she said.
“No?”
She shook her head.
“But I’m still confused myself, so I think I better just…” She sighed. “…tell you how I feel.”
He pressed a kiss to the side of her face and intertwined their fingers, leading her to the nearest couch.
When they were both settled, Barry took a breath and prompted her.
“Okay. Tell me.”
 ...
*will be posted on AO3 and FFnet when beta’d.
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annakie · 3 years ago
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Bright eyes to bat and hide behind
It’s been several months, so here’s a life and pet update.
I’ve been more or less off tumblr for the last few months, needed a break, let the queue almost run out.  I’m checking in every few days now.
But the last things I personal-posted were mostly about my cats.
Leela, who has kidney failure, has been thriving for six months now.  Honestly, she’s been more energetic, eating more, expressing herself even more now than she had been for the last year or two before the hospitalization.  Every morning she enthusiastically screams at me for food.  I’ve kept feeding her and keeping water next to her bed here on the office desk.  She’ll tell me when she’s hungry and she gets whatever she wants whenever she wants.  She’s back to her “normal” weight, which is still like, five pounds, but it’s fine for her.  She’s sometimes quite playful, which is so great to see for a sixteen and a half year old cat.  I don’t mind when she screams for food, her having hunger is always good news.  I don’t mind it when she spends 30 minutes in the morning running around and screaming at the top of her lungs, it means she’s alive and has extra energy and that’s fine with me. 
I’ve got some PTO coming in December, so I’m thinking I’m going to take her to the vet for a checkup then, just so she can be looked over.  But honestly, she’s doing great.
Patchy has Lymphoma, diagnosed at the end of June.  I’m happy to report that Patchy, likewise, has been doing well!  The very first day she had to take medicine I researched to make sure it’d be OK to give it to her mixed in with food, and it was, and then I called and confirmed with the vet the next day, and he also agreed.  So her medicine gets mixed in with a small pouch of food that is basically just shredded chicken in broth, and she licks the bowl clean every day.  Two hours later, she gets “real” dinner.
I took her in for her first checkup a few weeks after she went on the medicine and the vet was very pleased with how much better her digestive tract was.  It was evident in the ultrasound he took, and she didn’t throw up at all that month.  So we went another 6 weeks, and again, no throwing up and an even better ultrasound.
In the middle of September I woke up in the middle of a Saturday night to Patchy throwing up.  I... did not take it well.  But she ate fine the rest of the weekend.  I was supposed to take her in that Friday anyway, so I just moved up her appointment to the first vet appointment I could at 8am Tuesday, almost ready for a terrible report.  Instead, the doctor was like “We almost can’t see the lymphoma at all anymore.  She probably had a very normal upset stomach.  She’s doing great.  Keep doing what you’re doing, here’s more medicine, come back in three months or if she throws up like, multiple days in a row.”
So it’s been over four months since the original diagnosis. Her next appointment is at the end of December.  She did throw up one more time a few days ago, but not since, and she’s still eating like a little horse, maybe even starting to gain more weight than she should. 
It’s been a great reprieve.
I don’t take a single day with either of them for granted.
The worst part is looking at both of them and always being on that edge.  Are they eating okay today?  Are they behaving normally?  Drinking enough?  Looking for abnormal pukes.  That knowing that it’s only a matter of time until something goes wrong.  That part sucks.
And I’ve been saving extra the last few months knowing that new bills are incoming (and every ultrasound+medicine visit for Patchy is already kinda hefty!)  Hoping there’s gonna be enough, if bad things hit for both of them at the same time.
Mostly grateful for this extra time, though, with both of them feeling well and happy.  Trying to make sure they both get extra love (while making sure Fry and Pemily, both of whom are in great health, get their fill as well.)  Taking extra pictures, and implanting memories in my brain.  I don’t want to look back at these days when the worst happens sometime in the future and regret my time with either of them.
-----
So besides pets, what else is up?
Still social distancing mostly.  Have been out to eat a couple of times with my family, and once or twice with friends, but still preferring to eat in or takeout.  Also went to a movie (Venom 2) with a friend, but bought filler seats on either side of us and the theater wasn’t packed, either. Really, mostly socializing by going to friend’s house for D&D games.  My mom and aunt have come over here a few times, too.
I ran a Halloween-ish horror-themed oneshot for my RL friends, including my usual DM, two weekends ago at their place.  It was on a ship, it was a little gross and suspenseful, and ended in PVP as planned, so I hardly had to do anything in the final fight.  Everyone had a great time. Planning on doing another RL friend oneshot plus Christmas Feast in December.
Plus still got all the online gaming and hangouts going. Still loving running my Sunday night game for my RL ex-work friends from 2 jobs ago.  They’re level 11, kicking ass, and enjoying themselves.  We sometimes play their “B-Team” characters which are a lower-level party in the same world who go on sidequests or just have small random adventures when not everyone can attend a session but we want to still play.  They’re about to get into the real meat of the campaign story though, and I’m looking forward to amping everything up.
And right now I’m DMing my Wednesday night game.  Running Candlekeep Mysteries as a campaign, adding in this supplement that I love, Witch+Craft, which is a crafting system + location + magic items + mini-campaign that is all very chill and done in a Studio Ghibli-esque style.  I’m really enjoying running a low-stakes campaign which doesn’t take much prep work.  I bought Candlekeep Mysteries on Roll20 and after supplementing some prettier maps someone made and posted on Reddit, I mostly only have to read ahead on the next adventure, and do some loose storyboarding to draw the campaign together between sessions when we craft and work on smaller, personal character stories.  It’s nice.  The players are aware there will never be a world-ending type threat, they’re just enjoying the ride.
Speaking of virtual entertainment, I’m also loving that venues in other places are now so much better set up for streaming.  In the last two weeks I’ve gone to three virtual shows that probably would have never streamed pre-pandemic, plus several other monthly-or-there-abouts shows that have become staples for the last year+.
Getting my booster shot next weekend probably. 
I never made it past Virmire on my ME:LE playthrough because I wanted more sweet, sweet mods.  I know they’re cooking up some great things for N7 day so I think once all that work is released I may start back over and do the whole trilogy playthrough, even if the ending mods and the full EGM aren’t out yet.
Work has been... hm.  I don’t want to say too much but my department has never been totally stable and I feel like since day 1 I’ve been working on an uphill climb.  Then there’s been more instability in my boss situation.  Technically, starting tomorrow, my immediate supervisor position is empty and the position’s supervisor’s position is empty.  In a fairly large company, I’m technically reporting two levels up for the foreseeable future.  It’s... not great news.  But I’m hanging in there for now.  :)  We are getting more help in at my level, at least.
Annnd... now I’m gonna go cuddle in bed with Patchy while reading a book. 
Oh, yeah, Star Trek friends?  If you hate the ending of Enterprise as much as I do, please read The Good That Men Do. It’s the beta canon retcon of the Enterprise ending done in a realistic and canon-friendly way.  I’m only like 75% through, but it is absolutely the canon ending in my brain forever and ever amen.  One of the better written Star Trek books, as well.  Highly recommended. 
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uwu-boll · 3 years ago
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Yesterday I consumed nearly 4 grams of mushrooms. Here is what that was like for me:
First, this isnt my first rodeo. I've consumed psychedelics a few times before; I wouldnt call myself necessarily experienced but I have an education background in psychopharmacology and I have a couple of trips under my belt already so I knew what to expect and how it was going to feel going into it. 2 months ago. my girlfriend and I purchased 7 grams of mushrooms to split for our anniversary weekend this past week. We purchased a hotel room - I wanted to avoid doing this at home due to a very stressful living situation - and situated our setting so as to be best prepared to go about our experience. This included water, music, videogames, some snacks, etc. The necessities.
Our day started following a night of several shared margaritas and burgers between us. We went swimming, had coffee and a light breakfast, went to therapy together, and then a healthy midday lunch. Following that, we gathered the supplies for the night and settled in at around 3pm. Starting then, I measured out the dosages for the both of us; 2.75g for her, 3.87g for me (the dosages were more or less arbitrary, but we had a ballpark of what kind of experience we were looking for). She ate hers straight up, while I prepared a 'lemon tek'; powdered shrooms soaked in lemon juice for some time. There is some science behind it, but the idea is to shorten the duration or the experience while making it more intense. This also helps with digestion to prevent nausea, although there will still be some present as your body tries to 'reject' the chemical.
My shrooms sat in lemon juice for 20 mins before I tossed them all in orange juice for me to take big gulps of. Disclaimer - I HATE the taste, smell, texture, EVERYTHING about mushrooms. This... isnt necessarily better, but it's the best way to consume them short of capsules, I've found.
3:25 PM: I start drinking my pulpy orange juice - mushroom cocktail. It tastes like sour orange juice, because of the lemon juice I added, but the thought of the mushrooms in there makes me gag before I even get the concoction in my mouth. I can already tell this is going to be an endeavour. I take one big swig, maybe a fifth of the bottle, and approximately a quarter of the dose. I wait about 5 mins before taking another swig
3:35: one more swig, followed by a dab, hoping that the weed will calm my tummy. It does, but not before I nearly puke coughing up a lung
3:45: I finish the cocktail. This whole time I'm watching my girlfriend - who is approximately 15 minutes ahead of me having already dosed - set up the Nintendo switch and design a character on Tony Hawks Pro Skater, the remastered edition. She finishes, we take a dab, and we start playing. We, for some reason, start with a VS game, first to 500,000 points. I dont know why we thought that was a good idea, but we did. From here on, times are approximate.
Approximately 3:50: We are mindlessly skating in complete silence, absolute fixated in this game. I'm pretty high from the dabs as it is, so I'm spacing out and having trouble coordinating.
Approximately 4:00: I'm focused entirely on how gross my stomach feels having drank the cocktail. My body feels heavy, and it's very difficult to coordinate in the game properly.
Approximately 4:15: We are probably 100,000 points into this game before we both realize how long it's going to take before anyone wins. Were both kinda over it, and clearly struggling with performing and we only know it's going to get worse. As the come up begins, I feel a profound sense of anxiety. Recognizing it as the comeup anxiety, I dismiss it, but it's quickly becoming pretty overwhelming. The lemon tek, in shortening and intensifying the experience, creates very powerful come ups. We stop playing THPS and switch to Super Mario 3D World, which makes me feel better
Approximately 4:30: We get through 2 levels before we stop playing for the night. We decide to cuddle and try to calm each other down. We put on Bo Burnham's 'Inside' to listen to while we come up, which was a great idea because we love him. Really got us talking about our pasts and the meanings behind each of his songs. My body is very heavy, but I feel at absolute peace within it - I'm not biting my nails compulsively or shaking my legs - despite the come up anxiety and the slight nausea. I feel attached to the bed, I didnt want to get up even if I had to. I am absolutely CHEESIN, smiling so hard my cheeks still hurt a day later.
Approximately 4:45: I am staring at the wall, looking at what appears to be a pattern overlaying the texture of the wall. I see the same pattern on the bathroom floor. I'm questioning as to whether or not it's really there. I quickly move to the ceiling - a popcorn ceiling - where I am blown away; the lighting in the room makes the ceiling look both purple and green. My pareidolia is going crazy and I see constantly shifting patterns in the white noise that is the popcorn ceiling. The crazy thing is knowing that there is no pattern to the nonsense I am seeing, but making out patterns regardless. I stare at this for awhile. The ceiling is flowing like water.
The exact order of events henceforth are kind of a blur. We lay in bed for the rest of the night, but the topics of discussion vary from point to point, mostly us complimenting each other and praising each other. At some point, Inside ended, and we listened to Hamilton. However, I hardly remember both the end of Inside nor the entirety of Hamilton, and so it's likely that around d approximately 5 oclock, began the Great Existential Breakdown (TM)
At approximately 5 oclock, I was peaking. Emotions were running high, and, in response to being hungry, I had a breakdown because I hated the fact that I was born into a world dominated by cruelty, inhumanity, and the insatiable drive for profit. I hated that I lived in a world where something as simple as hunger was a problem, and that food - a human right - is commodified. I hated that consumption was obligatory, and that to feed the endless gluttony that is the human need to consume, we exploit both our fellow humans, and the planet. I hated that in that obligatory need to consume, weve facilitated this social climate in which it's okay to pollute our world and exploit the human labor condition so as long as its convenient to the consumer and profitable to the corporation. (Now that I think about it, this may have been spurned by Bo Burnhams 'That Funny Feeling', which I feel like is his most powerful song on the album. ) This quickly evolved into how being born, and forced into a world without your consent where conditions like this exist in the first place is inherently a violent act, and that having children is immoral until we create an environment where those conditions are obsolete. Then to how bullshit it is that I am forced to take care of a meatsuit for the whole of my life, but I have to pay to upkeep all of it as if i had some choice in the matter. This lead to me talking about how I wanted to be a transient observer of the universe, untethered to any physical point in space. Not quite dead, not quite alive - still able to see things happen, but not be able to participate. I then went on to say how I didnt think suicide was the answer to my problems because that doesnt necessarily get rid of the conditions that lead to my despair, but rather creates new problems for my loved ones. I knew that the key was to live in despite of the despair and to continue on in search of my own personal meaning.
This breakdown lasted approximately 3 hours and was very emotional for both of us. We spent a lot of time crying and talking about stuff weve never spoken about before. The comedown was very gentle and helped me feel very cathartic and relaxed. Over the course of the comedown I took several dabs, a few of which brought me back to 'The Wonky Space' (TM). However, this was short lived. My girlfriend sat in the tub naked from the waist down, which quickly turned into a bath, and from there, after my breakdown, we started to relax, watch some Shameless, went downstairs, got some snacks, some drinks, and went to bed.
Before I fell asleep, and once I knew the experience was 100% over, I took some time to reflect and felt very satisfied with what happened. It wasnt at all what I expected the night to be, but I felt like I needed to do that, and experience that kind of existential pain. I felt very relaxed once I got control of my body again, and that peace - the general sense of wellbeing, happiness, lack of anxiety, connectivity to my partner and my fellow man - has persisted well into the next day, and will likely continue for at least the next week. 10/10 would do again.
Would I say I had a bad trip? No. Was it a good one? N...no. but I had a great time, it was fun, and enlightening, and helped me realize where I feel like I am struggling mentally.
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