#he moved to the other side of the river when he went red in LL he got reincarnated into empires and fell in love with a fish guy

[desolationcleo]

listening to What The Water Gave Me by florence + the machine on loop vividly imagining a Scott animatic

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Escape

Summary: The Red Room haunts you, from the moment you stepped foot inside to long after you’ve left. Truth is, you don’t think there is any escaping it.

Warnings: 18+ Violence, Depression, Mentions of Death, Smut. Also this is long! I’d gotten so carried away writing it that I didn’t notice till it was all done.

Chapter 14

******  Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you listen to your babies heartbeat through the machine.

Natasha’s hand grips yours as a tear slides down her cheek. She had chosen to wait for you to do an ultrasound and she’s glad she did.

Sharing this pivotal moment with you makes her heart soar. She genuinely can’t get over how happy you are about this. 

With the time travel plan in full swing, minus the briefing for the stones, everyone was given a break. Tony went back home to Pepper and Morgan, everyone else went off to shower and get rest, and you and Natasha, after getting clean, came to see the doctor. 

The woman repeated things to you that she had to Natasha, telling you about the baby's development, and letting you know what to expect with Natasha. Your wife is to experience periodic sickness, pain in her back as well as headaches, and she admonishes that Natasha exercise, keep warm but not hot, and that she be careful of how she moves, sits, and sleeps as it can determine how the baby shifts before birth.

Her words worried you. With the Time Heist definitely happening, you know things could get hectic for your wife and there’s no way Natasha would sit out. 

Looking at your growing baby, you’re determined to ensure Natasha takes it easy, especially while doing this mission. You take comfort in knowing that Clint and Tony know about the pregnancy and make it a point to have one of them with you and Natasha during this.

“I’m happy to inform you Misses Romanoff that you baby is very healthy and developing at the normal rate. Are there any questions you have for me?”

“When can we know the gender?” You immediately ask. 

It doesn’t matter to you too much but you’d really like to know. 

“At eighteen weeks normally, but on some occasions we can tell as early as fourteen weeks.” She smiles.

That being your only question, her having answered the others before the ultrasound, she doctor schedules another visit in four weeks, then tells you you can pick up your ultrasound pictures on the way out.

On the flight home you just stare at the ultrasound picture. 

It’s a little over an inch big, barely weighing anything. Comparatively the size of a plum. You’re just barely able to see the toes and fingers.

How could something so tiny change your life so quickly? Literally in seconds it’s- they’ve changed your life.

You remain in thought until the jet lands. Only being pulled out when Natasha stands in front of you. 

Gentle fingers run over your cheek and jaw and a soft smile meets your eyes.

“I love you.” You blurt honestly and randomly.

Natasha’s smile widens into a grin and she leans down to kiss you,“ I love you too, now let’s go restore the Universe.”

Little to no time later, everyone is gathered together, Steve and Tony resuming their leadership positions as if nothings changed. They walk you all through the point of this brainstorming session and that is to educate yourselves on and to find the Infinity Stones. 

With them being all over the universe at multiple times it’s going to take a lot of thinking and a lot of remembering to narrow down the perfect times and locations.

“Let's start with the Aether. Thor, what do you know?”

All eyes follow his line of sight when silence settles, landing on the pudgy God in the corner. He doesn’t seem to be moving but the beer can in his hand hasn’t tipped.

“Is he asleep?” Natasha asks from beside you.

Rhodey scoffs,“ no, I'm pretty sure he's dead.”

You go over and pluck the beer can from his hand, causing him to lurch up from his seat, snatch it back, and move to the front of the room.

As he speaks you find yourself more confused than you’d ever been. He’d managed to tell you exactly what you need to know but mixed it into things you weren’t sure you wanted to know. By the time he’s finished and on the verge of breaking down, Tony butts in. 

With Thor obviously needing food, you all order Chinese take out and gather at the table to eat and continue talking.

Your wife kicks her feet into your lap as she starts to eat. You send a playful glare her way and she winks in response.

Rocket hops on to the table to give you all the information you need about the Power Stone, mocking Bruce and Scott along the way. From there you all clean up when you’re done, and move to the couches where Nebula talks about Vormir and the Soul Stone.

Majority of the group decides to take a break, leaving Natasha, Tony, and Bruce to discuss the Time Stone. You were simply walking around picking up the books they’d scattered all over the floor as you listened.

“That Time Stone guy,” Natasha trails off.

“Doctor Strange.” Bruce informs.

“Yeah, what kind of doctor was he?”

Tony pipes up,“ ear-nose-throat meets rabbit from a hat.” Its clear he isn’t joking but you all get the gist. 

After a brief discussion of where he lived, your brilliant wife points out that three stones were in New York all at the same time. It leaves both men shocked, realizing that she’s right. Feeling proud to be married to the intelligent woman, you comment on her being your girl as you wink at her, a blush coating her cheeks.

The four of you reconvene with the team to discuss the new found information and a short recap reveals that you all know exactly where to go and when.

It all comes together from there. You’re assigned to go with Natasha and Clint to Vormir to collect the Soul Stone, the three of you are to travel to Morag with Rhodey and Nebula and from there you take Rocket’s ship to Vormir.

You grab everyone’s suits from the lab and hand them out, each of you dispersing to change.

In your room, you can’t help but watch Natasha. 

Worry fills your mind at the ‘what if’s. 

You know you’re going to do absolutely everything in your power to protect your wife and unborn child. Even if it means giving your own life to ensure they keep theirs. 

“This is going to work.” Natasha speaks up, noticing your concerned silence.

E/c eyes meet forest green, and you take a deep breath. Pulling her in front of you, you press your foreheads together.

Refraining from sharing your morbid fears with her, you instead press a kiss to her lips. You pour every ounce of passion you have into this kiss. Through it, you instill in Natasha just how much you love her. If anything is to happen, you need her to know how much she means to you. 

And Natasha knows that’s what this is. The second you’d kissed her she knew it was a goodbye, just in case. But she’s just as determined to return home with you as you are to keep her safe.

With your promise of eternal love sealed in one kiss, you both leave out, hand in hand. 

Gathered on the platform, you all give undivided attention to Steve.

“Five years ago, we lost. All of us. We lost friends. We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams, you know your missions. Get the stones, get them back. One round trip each. No mistakes. No do-overs. Most of us are going somewhere we know. But it doesn't mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives.” You and Tony share impressed looks.“ And we're gonna win. Whatever it takes. Good luck.”

Rocket breaks the serious tension with his comment,“ he's pretty good at that.”

“Right?” Scott chuckles. 

Tony looks over to Bruce,“ all right. You heard the man. Stroke those keys, jolly green.

“Tractors engaged.” He calls.

Rocket watches Clint, who holds his shrunken space ship,“ you promise to bring that back in one piece, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay. I'll do my best.”

You laugh at the man beside your wife, shaking your head at his half assed promise. Rocket comments on that very thing.

Natasha looks at you with an excited grin, then to Steve,“ see you in a minute.” She sways, making you smile at her enthusiasm.

It’s a rush, going through the Quantum realm. All the lights and the speed you’re going at does in fact leave you disoriented when you pop up on Morag. 

Blinking through your daze, you rest your hand on your wife’s back. You rub soothing circles over her back until she’s breathing evenly and standing up straight.

“Everything alright?” Rhodey asks as Nebula and Clint resize the space ship.

You give a thumbs up with a reassuring smile.

As Nebula gets into the space ship, you, Clint, and Natasha stand off to the side while Rhodey directs her to drop the extra pod. 

“Ew.” Natasha mumbles, kicking away a wrinkling, hairless, rat thing. 

Clint urges them to hurry up, you and Tasha backing up his sentiment. Only for you all to laugh at Rhodey’s reply.

Short ‘see you later’s are exchanged and your admonished to watch each others backs. With coordinates set for Vormir, you all sit back.

A light conversation flows freely between the three of you. Clint having already given you his approval makes the atmosphere tensionless. 

You can honestly say you expected more of Vormir. Why? You don’t know, but a desolate river filled planet is not what you were hoping for.

Even worse is the creepy cloaked man waiting for you at the top of the long ass staircase.

He greets you all with the names of your parents. Shocking both you and Natasha as neither of you knew of your parents. When he guides you to the edge of the cliff he explains the terms needed to retrieve the stone.

Safe to say, none of you are happy about what he has to say.

Natasha moves to sit on a boulder, instantly slipping into her own headspace, while Clint sends glances to the red guy.

Your eyes focus on your wife. For the seemingly billionth time you repeat in your head that she’s pregnant.

The love of your life is going to birth your child in seven short months. Hearing the amount of time could very well make you panic as it isn’t much at all but it’s equally as exciting.

And suddenly you’re reminded of what the red man just said. You must lose that which you love.

You love her. She’s the one thing you’d never sacrifice.

You watch as Clint sits beside Natasha, his hand coming up to gently run over her back.

She just got him back. He’s her brother. Losing him would break her heart and then the hearts of his family when they return to that news. That’s not an option either.

Your thoughts stop. A solution fixes itself at the fore front of your mind.

It’s not the only way but it’s the only option you have, minus one other fail safe. With a mental nod of affirmation, you set to it.

“So Mister Ominous, Cursed with Cosmic Knowledge Man,” you walk over to the red guy,“ I just want to make sure I understand. You’re essentially telling us that if I throw myself off this cliff, I’m supposed to trust you to give my friends the soul stone, just like that.”

His reply is monotonous,“ it’s not I you trust. It is the Universe that will bless your sacrifice. And eternal exchange.”

“Right, see, about that,” you smack your lips,“ the universe hasn’t exactly done any of us any favors. In fact the universe has managed to completely screw us over. So instead of relying on our trust in the universe, how about we test yours.”

What would be an eyebrow, raises on his face just before you kick into his chest sending him stumbling over the edge.

“Y/N!” Natasha and Clint call your name as they rush over and you all look over the edge, your arm protectively sticking out in front of Natasha.

Part of you expects him to fly back up but he doesn’t. He just hits the ground and bleeds out. Guess he wasn’t floating after all.

“What were you thinking?” Clint snaps at you.

“I was just trusting the universe. He said a soul for a soul, he didn’t say who’s soul.” You partly explain your decision.

You’re silently praying that the universe does you this one solid and that this works, that you don’t actually have to sacrifice something you love and that it’s all bullshit. If not you’re going over the edge yourself but you hope it doesn’t come to that, so you wait.

Natasha frowns at you, your eyes never leaving the bottom of the cliff,“ and how do you know you didn’t just kill someone for no reason? He said we had to give up what we love.”

“Right cause I was just going to take the word of some glorified gate keeper and sacrifice you and our child or your best friend for the stone, not a chance. Beside, I’m pretty sure it worked.”

Her green eyes narrow at you,“ how would you know?”

“Cause of that.” You point to the light that shines from the man’s lifeless body at the bottom of the cliff.

Clint and Natasha look as well, only for all of you to start squinting as the light becomes too bright. You end up shutting your eyes.

And when they open again, you find yourself sitting in a shallow river. Clint and Natasha sit up at your sides, looking around before their gazes shift to your hand.

Opening your fist reveals the orange Soul stone sitting in your palm.

You sigh in relief, before you stand, securing the stone in your utility belt, and turning to your wife.

“I demand an apology.” You half joke, offering her your hand.

Accepting it, she rolls her eyes, and lets you pull her up. You then offer Clint a hand.

Once he’s standing, he places a hand on your shoulder,“ great thinking. Now let’s get the stone back.”

The three of you go back to the ship, shrinking it again so Clint can pocket it, then syncing up and shrinking down. You shoot through the Quantum Realm, squinting against the flashing lights, before popping back up in the compound.

Looking around you at everyone. They’re all back and with additional objects, meaning you got all the stones.

“Did we get them all?” Bruce asks disbelieving.

Rhodey chuckles, equally as shocked,“ you tellin me this’ll actually work?”

With everyone standing on this platform, perfectly in tact with the stones, you let a small smile cover your lips.

One look at your wife reveals her smile, a tad more excited than yours. It grows when her eyes lock with yours.

“Alright, let’s get to work.” Tony claps his hands together.

You follow after him and Bruce, handing off the Soul Stone, before leaving the lab.

Despite your scientific knowledge, you’d rather not be in the way while they work with the fate of the universe. Instead you go to yours and Natasha’s room, finding your wife lying down.

For a moment you watch her. The way her hand rests on her abdomen, literally an inch or two above where your baby is growing.

Walking over, you squat beside the bed and rest your hand over hers.

It’s clear she knew you were there as she barely reacts, at first. She does look over at you though, hypnotizing green eyes boring into yours.

“Am I crazy for being more terrified of the child growing inside you than I’ve ever been of anything in my life?”

She shakes her head,“ no you aren’t. And you have no reason to be scared of the baby.”

“Tasha I’m not scared of the baby. I’m scared of fucking up.”

Her hand raises, caressing your cheek,“ you’re going to be an incredible parent.”

Conviction and honesty lace her words. How can she be so sure of you?

“I have no experience with children.”

With an eye roll, she sits up,“ that’s not true at all. You are so good with Morgan. She loves you. I know you’re going to be great with our kid.”

You surge forward, kissing her with as much passion as you can muster.

Her faith in you will never not amaze you. More than anything you hope that you can live up to it.

“We should shower. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to keep smelling like a lake.”

She laughs, but agrees nonetheless.

After showering together and resisting the temptation to do anything. The two of you suit back up.

“Woah hey,” you stop Natasha,“ you’re forgetting your accent piece.”

She raises an eyebrow and you simply hold the Black Widow belt out closer to her. With a sigh, she secures it around the waist of her suit.

Right on time, F.R.I.D.A.Y calls for your presence in the lab.

Knowing that this means the gauntlet is ready, you grab Natasha’s hand, squeezing it to ground you, before heading out.

******

Taglist : @thelastavenger-3000 @aaron-despair @messuhp @izalesbean @bvb-bk @username23345 @sighsam @confusinggemini612 @natasha-danvers @rileigh519 @higherfurther-romanova @dynnealberto

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The Death of the Doctor Chapter 27

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The Death of the Doctor Chapter 27 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 27/? SUMMARY:  The Doctor’s death is looming on the horizon and Elise is growing every  day. What the Doctor doesn’t know is that he has 200 years to teach  Elise all he knows. Amy, Rory, and River let Elise in on their secret,  because River knows she will keep it. What will Elise do when he’s gone?

“Apalapucia,” the Doctor said, dancing around the console. He was still wearing that long green coat that Elise didn’t care for.

“Say it again?” Amy asked.

“Apalapucia.”

“Apalapu…”

“Chia.”

“Apalapucia,” Rory said, giving it go. He got it right on the first try.

“Apalapucia,” the Doctor said.

“Apalapucia,” Amy said, finally getting it, “What a beautiful word.”

“Beautiful word, beautiful world. Apalapucia! Voted number two planet in the Top Ten Greatest Destinations for the Discerning Intergalactic Traveler.”

“Why couldn't we go to number one?” Rory asked.

“It's hideous. Everyone goes to number one. Planet of the coffee shops. Apalapucia. I give you sunsets, spires, soaring silver colonnades.”

They all ran for the TARDIS doors.

“I give you…” The Doctor threw open the doors and there was nothing except a set of doors across from them.

“Doors,” Rory said.

“Doors. Yes. I give you doors. But on the other side of those doors, I give you sunsets, spires, soaring silver colonnades.”

“Have you seen my phone?” Amy asked.

“Your phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Your mobile telephone? I bring you to a paradise planet, two billion light years from Earth, and you want to update Twitter.”

“Sunsets, spires, soaring silver colonnades. It's a camera phone.”

“On the counter, by the DVDs.”

“Thank you.” Amy disappeared back into the TARDIS to get her phone. “

How do we get in?” Rory asked.

“I don't know. Push a button,” the Doctor told him.

Rory pressed the Green Anchor and they went inside the room. The door closed behind them.

“Okay, so rain check on the soaring silver colonnades,” the Doctor said.

Elise patted him on the back.

“Yeah,” Rory said.

There was a magnifying glass in the middle of a table.

“Hey? Hey, it's locked,” Amy told them from outside the room.

“Yeah, push the button,” Rory said.

They assumed that the doors would just open and Amy would be standing there, but nothing happened.

“Come on, Amy,” Rory muttered. He walked over to the door and pressed the button.

The doors opened, but no one was standing there.

“Where is she? Where on wherever we are is my wife?” Rory asked.

The Doctor sat down in one of the chairs and pressed the green button on the magnifying glass stand.

Amy appeared.

“Rory, I think I've found her,” the Doctor said.

“What do you mean you've found her?” Rory walked over to them and jumped when he saw Amy. “Whoa.” He ran around to the other side of the magnifying glass. “No, but, she's not, she's not here. I can see her, but she’s not here.”

“It’s like a mirror,” Elise said.

“Where am I? In fact, where are you?” Amy asked.

A white robot entered the room with them. It didn’t have a face and was holding up a hand.

“Hands. Hello, hands. Robot with hands, Rory,” the Doctor said.

“Welcome to the Twostreams facility. Will you be visiting long?” the robot asked.

“Er, Doctor, something's happening,” Amy said.

The image in the glass started to waver.

“Er, Amy? Stay calm. Stay still,” the Doctor told her. He took out his sonic screwdriver and soniced the glass. “Ah, time's gone wobbly. I hate it when it does that.”

“Will you be visiting long?” the robot asked.

Rory backed away from the robot. “Good question. Bit sinister. What's the answer to not get us killed?”

Elise stood in front of Rory, between him and the robot. At least if something happened to her, she could regenerate.

“It's okay, I've got you, you're fine,” the Doctor told her.

“Will you be visiting long?” the robot asked again.

“A little help, Doctor,” Rory said.

“And where have you been?” Amy asked.

“Dad! What do tell it? There’s got to be a way to turn it off!” Elise snapped.

“I've been here a week.”

“A week?” the Doctor asked Amy, “A week? I'm so sorry. Ah-ha. Same room, different times. Two different time streams running parallel but at different speeds. Amy, you're in a faster time stream.”

“Doctor, it's going again!”

“Doctor!” Rory yelled.

Elise had her screwdriver out and pointed at the robot, but it wasn’t doing anything. The robot was almost touching them. Elise knew something would happen, but she wasn’t interested in finding out what.

“Amy!” the Doctor yelled.

“Doctor!”

The Doctor soniced the glass again. “Come on. Gotcha. There. Stabilized, settled, shush.”

“Why has this got hands?” Rory asked.

“Organic skin. Ultimate universal interface, grown and grafted, not born. I mean, it's actually seeing with its fingers, scanning the room,” the Doctor explained, “But why not just give it eyes?”

“Will you be visiting long?” the robot asked.

“As long as it takes.” The Doctor walked back over to the glass. “Amy, what exactly did you do?”

“I just, I came in and I pressed the door button.”

“Oh! Amy, there are two buttons. The green anchor and the red waterfall,” Rory told her, “Which one did you push?”

“I pushed the red waterfall.”

“Great.” Rory left the room and came back a minute later. “I pressed Red Waterfall, and she wasn't there!”

“Okay, so you can't follow her directly. No, it's never simple. Did you hear that, Handbot? She pressed the wrong button, that's all. We're aliens, we didn't know.”

“Statement rejected,” the Handbot said, “Apalapucia is under planet-wide quarantine. This is a kindness facility for those infected with Gen-7.”

The Doctor covered his mouth and nose with his coat. “What?”

Rory did the same and walked over to him. “Gen-7?”

“The one day plague.”

“What, you get it for a day?”

“No, you get it, and you die in a day.”

“There are 40,000 residents in the Twostreams Facility. Please remain in the sterile areas. Visiting hours are now,” the Handbot said before it beamed out of the room.

“Sterile area. I'm safe,” the Doctor said. He walked over to Elise and kissed her forehead, smoothing a hand over her hair. “We’re safe.”

“What about me?” Amy asked.

“Gen-7 only affects two-hearted races like Apalapucians.”

“And Time Lords,” Elise said, realizing why the Doctor had been reassuring her.

“Yeah, like us. Walk into that facility, we’re dead in a day. Time moves faster on Amy's side of the glass. Amy, you said you'd been here a week. What did you eat?”

“Nothing. I wasn't hungry.”

“No, because that Red Waterfall time is compressed. That's the point. The Time Glass syncs up the two time streams for visits. You could be in here for a day, and watch them live out their entire lives.”

“And watch them grow old in front of your eyes?” Rory asked.

“That’s awful,” Elise said, her blue eyes filling with tears. Were they going to have to watch Amy age and die?

The Doctor put a hand on her shoulder. “No, it's kind. You've got a choice. Sit by their bedside for twenty four hours and watch them die, or sit in here for twenty four hours and watch them live. Which would you choose?” The Doctor pulled the Time Glass off the table.

“Doctor!” Amy cried out.

The Doctor moved and placed the glass where Amy would be sitting. “I'm here, Amy. I'm right here.”

“Where are you? Am I looking at you?”

“Turn left just a fraction.”

Amy did as he said.

“Bit more. Stop. That's it.”

“Eye to eye?” Amy asked him.

“Eye to eye.”

“Hello.” Rory told her.

“Amy, I'm taking the Time Glass back to the TARDIS,” the Doctor said, “Like satnav, I'll use it to get a lock, then smash through using the TARDIS to get you out. Until then, you're on your own.” The Doctor soniced the glass.

“Er, what are you doing?” Rory asked

“Locking it on to Amy. Small act of vandalism. No one'll mind.”

An alarm started going off.

“Ah, that'll be the small act of vandalism alarm. Amy, I need you to go into the facility just for a bit. Find somewhere safe and leave me a sign. Remember, you're immune to Gen-7, but don't let them give you anything. They don't know you're alien. Their kindness will kill you. Now go.”

Amy walked over to the other set of doors and pressed the button. She turned back to them before she entered the facility. “Rory, I love you. Now save me. Go on.”

The now trio headed back to the TARDIS.

“Are you sure this going to work?” Elise asked her father.

“This is locked onto Amy permanently.” He placed the Time Glass onto the console. “Play the signal into the console, the TARDIS'll follow it.”

The Doctor pulled out a tool box and started rummaging through it. “Now then, I know you're in here. Er, er, ha ha!” He turned around with a pair of thick rimmed glasses on his face. “How do I look?”

“Ridiculous,” Rory told him.

Elise would have said cute if the Doctor wasn’t her adoptive father.

“Glasses are cool, see?” He put them on Rory. “Oh, yes. Hello, handsome man.”

“Oh, hello.”

Elise giggled.

“Hello, Rory-cam,” the Doctor said.

“Huh?” Rory turned around and saw the Doctor on the monitor. “Oh, you can see what I see.”

“You’re breaking into Twostreams. Now, I can't go in there. The Gen-7'll kill me and Elise, no regeneration. You will be our eyes and ears.”

“Rory-cam. Rescue Amy. Got it.”

“That's the spirit. Now, smashing through a timewall could get a bit hairy.”

“Is it safe?”

“Don't know. Never tried. Best hold onto something.”

Elise grabbed onto the railing as the TARDIS started wheezing.

[maxineswritingcenter]

An Unlikely Friend

@toxicskullxxx said: Y/n the youngest Archangel that shakres similar abilities with god in creating things and she made an after life with their creations and her personal heaven called Purgatory. Y/n is know as a Goddess among supernatural beings, but she's a myth in heaven having fallen/disappeared before Lucifer fell. She comes out of hiding to help save Castiel when he prayed for help and she gladly came. Winchester's were wary of her since she created the creature's they hunt, but started to warm up especially Dean.

Alright, first request let's DO THIS! The setting in this fic will be season 8 because I thought it related to the Purgatory aspect.

-------------------------------------------------

After Dick exploded, the force of it blew Dean and Castiel into Purgatory with him. After meeting a vampire, Benny, and finding Castiel, they had to make a plan to get out. Castiel was sitting by the river, staring into the water.

Dean stared at him and groaned, "Hey! Are you just going to sit there all day?" Castiel looked back at him, then back to the water.

Benny leaned over to whisper to Dean, "Is he uh... righ' in the head?" He used the tip of his knife to tap his hat. Suddenly, the ground began to shake and the familiar sound of angel speak filled their ears. Dean and Benny covered their ears, trying to block out the ear piercing sound. Castiel's face fell slack. After the noice ended and the ground was stable, Dean grabbed Castiel's coat and jerked him to his feet.

"Hey! Snap out of it. What the hell was that?" Dean asked, motioning to their surroundings.

"I apoplogize for that. My voice drives them away. I thought it would be safer." They all turned to face their new arrival. Dean and Benny brought out their weapons. Castiel put a hand out.

"Stop!" He said, staring in awe. The figure before them was a woman. She had long white hair and a flowing white dress but she was young and beautiful.

"(Y/N)... You do exist..." Castiel took a step forward.

The woman grinned, her smile was bright and warm, "Indeed. It has been so long since anyone has called upon me." She walked forward and hugged Castiel, "Thank you, Castiel."

"Excuse me." Dean cleared his throat, the woman pulled away from Castiel and looked at Benny and Dean. The smile on her face falling.

"You're human... what are you doing here?" She asked, her chest rising and falling quickly.

"Listen, how about before we start asking questions you explain who you are." Dean said, still wary of the new arrival.

"Right... I apologize. I am (Y/N), creator of Supernatural Creatures." She said simply.

"Come again?" Benny asked, not believing his ears.

"So you're like Eve?" Dean asked.

"Oh no." (Y/N) laughed, "Eve was my sister." Dean coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, "Uh... Sorry about that."

(Y/N) looked down sadly and sighed, "You did what you had to. I understand. My sister sought to destroy with the creatures we made. I wanted everyone to live together in harmony." She motioned to Dean and Benny, "Like this. Human and Vampire working together." Dean and Benny looked at each other.

"Well," Benny began, "It's more of an arrangement." She stared for a moment and smirked.

"You're going to use him as a vessel." She said, "I'm glad it works."

"You made that?" Benny asked.

"Benjamin, I believe in second chances. The vessel system works to provide that. It is a bond formed by trust." She clasped her hands together.

"Now I do believe it's my turn to ask a question. How did you get here?" Her eyes met Dean's. He stared into them for a minute. Their color seemed to change from one color to the next.

"Dean?" Benny broke his train of thought

"Uh," Dean cleared his throat. He then explained the Leviathan outbreak and then killing Dick.

"Dick exploded?" (Y/N) asked, her head tilted to the side.

Dean coughed to hide the laugh, "Yeah. Then we showed up here. We've been walking around for a while, killing everything that attacks us. We just found Cas two days ago."

"We're trying to get the portal." Castiel said, "Can you help us?" (Y/N) looked at him. They both knew well that the portal only worked for humans. And Dean couldn't carry both.

She nodded, "Follow me. And keep close. My children only know and agree with my sister. Even the Leviathans will not listen to me anymore. Their hearts grew as black as their blood." She turned and began to walk into the forest. Dean watched her, she walked like she had no care in the world. She was even barefoot. The men quickly followed.

-

They walked for days. Weeks even. Purgatory was vast and easy to get lost in. Dean began to grow closer to (Y/N). His favorite thing was making her laugh. She had this unearthly, musical laugh that made his heart leap.

(Y/N) had never met a human. They were as interesting as she had heard. From the stories she heard from former humans who had come to her realm, she didn't gather much. But Dean was a true person. He fought for good, wanting nothing in return but the knowledge of safety for others. He fought the creatures her sister had poisoned with her intent. But monsters like Benny who tried again, those were (Y/N)'s. Dean was special. She knew what his destiny had been chosen to become. That her father would force her brothers to fight and fall. Then to force innocents to fight in their name again was wrong. And she was cast out for it, kept here until the end of time.

They were walking through the woods, Benny, Castiel and Dean followed behind (Y/N).

"Are we close?" Castiel asked. (Y/N) only kept humming her strange song.

"Come on, angel, aren't you all about faith?" Benny asked.

"Not particularly." Castiel replied as they all came to a halt. They all looked down and watched as a leaf float up off the ground. They watched as it flew up and into the blue portal just up ahead.

"Oh ye of little faith." Benny said, watching the portal.

"The hell?" Dean stared into it. It reminded him of the looking up at the surface from beneath the water.

"There it is. It's reacting to you." (Y/N) had moved to Dean's side, placing her hand on his shoulder. He sighed and started to roll up his sleeve.

"Alright? You ready? Just like we talked about." Dean cut open his arm and looked up at Benny.

"Lotta trust in you, brotha." Benny said.

"You earned it." Dean said. (Y/N) smiled at the two, happy that a deep friendship was forming between man and creature. Benny cut his arm and then they both grasped each other's forearms.

"I'll see you on the otha side." Benny said. Dean nodded and then recited the incantation. They watched as Benny turned bright red smoke and flew into Dean's open wound. Dean gasped at the pain, lowering his sleeve. He took (Y/N)'s hand and looked at Castiel.

"Let's go." He said and they all started the trek up the hill. They moved quickly over rocks and through branches. Near the top, Castiel stopped.

"Wait." He yelled. Just then two balls of smoke landed in front of them. The black substance soon morphed into two Leviathans.

(Y/N) stepped forward, the Leviathans didn't look her in the eye but they didn't back away.

"Let us pass." She commanded, "He doesn't belong here."

"We don't take orders from some prissy bitch." The male Leviathan said.

"Eve is our mother. Not you." The woman said. They lunged forward. Dean swung his weapon but was shoved down a hill. Castiel went to attack the man, but was teamed up on by the woman. (Y/N) went to Dean helping him up. They made it back up just in time to kill the male, who was about to make Castiel's head a meal. Castiel punched the woman in the gut, then Dean cut her head off as well.

Dean helped Castiel to his feet, "We gotta move!" He shouted over the sound of the portal, "The portal's closing!" The trio climbed their way up, the force of the wind from the portal was hard to fight again. (Y/N) slipped, but Dean held her steady. Dean was the first to the portal, Castiel and (Y/N) behind him.

"Dammit come on!" Dean shouted again. His words were like a whisper compared to the portal. Dean stepped through the portal, holding out his arm for Castiel. They grabbed arms.

"Come on!" He shouted again, "I got you, hold on. (Y/N) grabbed onto Castiel's jacket. Castiel looked back at (Y/N) who only looked at him sadly, then looking back at Dean.

"Dean!" Castiel shouted.

"Hold on!"

"Dean!" Castiel said again, throwing away Dean's arm. Dean looked at him shocked and confused. His attention was brought to (Y/N) who had tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Go!" Castiel said, standing.

"You have to go, Dean!" (Y/N) shouted, her voice was shaking, "You can't be here!" Before he could reply, Dean was sucked into the portal.

-

Dean had come back, and after releasing Benny, he went to find Sam. It had been a whole year since he had been gone. It was hard adjusting at first. Not only because he had been killing his way through purgatory, but because he lost two people. Castiel, his best friend. And (Y/N), someone he had dreamed about. She was kind and strong. Didn't take anybody's crap either. He had been seeing them, both of them together. Whether it was on the side of the road or in his room. One minute there, the next gone.

Dean was staring at himself in the mirror, thinking about his friends. He leaned down in the sink to run cold water over his face and when he looked up, Castiel was behind him. Looking as disheveled and dirty as he had been in purgatory.

"Hello Dean." Castiel said, as he usually would.

"Dean!" Sam called from the other room. When he opened the door he saw Sam who was up from his chair at the table and staring at a white haired woman. She turned to face Dean and his heart almost stopped.

"Dean!" She grinned, running and throwing her arms around his neck. He chuckled nervously, looking back at Cas and then at Sam as he wrapped his arms around (Y/N).

-------------------------------------------------

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[imaginingmyforest]

Safe For Cinderella

Fandom:  Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Character:  Credence Barebone

Notes:  Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Character Death (Not Reader or Credence), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Murder, Blasphemy, Religious Guilt, Religious Conflict, Panic Attacks, Vomiting (mentioned), Guilt, Running Away (mentioned), Dissociation

It's not safe to be out on one's own on the streets of New York.  Of course you carried a weapon.  Of course you would use it to defend the man you loved.  It wasn’t intentional.  You hadn’t planned it beforehand.

Can they really still call it murder, just because she hadn't touched YOU?  Just because it’d taken so long to fight back after everything she’d done to HIM?

Isn't it just another part of the Cinderella story?  Blood and ashes, ashes and blood …

It’s quick.  The realization that this argument is over, pointless.  The knowledge that nothing will ever change, and it’s time.  Your stomach plummets, your guts threaten to choke you, but it’s as though a switch has been thrown; it’s time, it’s time, so it must be done.  Your body moves because the decision was made long before, and it has to be done now.  It’s time.

Closing the distance and just--It’s done.  Just like that. (It already was, after all; hadn’t you just thought so?)

(The movements hadn’t changed that, not really.)

Everything is tight, heavy in the air, frozen in a moment that seems to linger impossibly as you take it in.  Your fingers flex, muscles mimic them, and you gasp. (It occurs to you that those fingers you’re looking at are your fingers, oddly.)

It’s instantaneous.  Everything drops, relaxes, your whole body coming down from this intensity that just melts away like being doused in water.  Fuck, it feels good.

Tears stream down.  Why, from where, you don’t know.  You feel so … relieved.  Like this is it, it’s over.  Done.  Finished.  Complete. Accomplished.

She’s staring at you, eyes wide and angry but more shocked, stunned, still trying to figure it all out, comprehend just what has happened.  Her mouth is open, slack, and sound gurgles within.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her, something between a laugh and a sob following up the words.  You blink the tears away rapidly, do your best to smile, and try to tighten your grip again.  It’s difficult.  Your fingers are slick, the wetness warm.  (Are those really your fingers?  They must be.)  “I really, really am, that it had to come to this.  That you just wouldn’t listen.”

Your whole body shakes with the word, the handle twists, and her head snaps to the side, as though belatedly trying to stop what has happened.  It makes the rivers run faster, color glisten on her pale skin.  (Hadn’t even been a river there a moment ago.  Things are moving so fast, despite the fact that they don’t feel like they’re moving at all.)

You hold your chin up high.  

“But you will never--” It jerks, so does she.  “--hurt Credence again.  And for that, I am not sorry.”

You bring up your free hand to cup her face (a sick resemblance of all the times you’ve held him in much the same way), wiping away tears, soothing down sobs.  And you twist (it feels like the thing to do, next), just like that, and she sucks in a breath that doesn’t make it down her throat, comes back up and sprays you in the face.  

It’s warm.  You blink it away, brow furrowed.  Your chest heaves a bit, breathing is getting a bit difficult.  Burns.

For good measure, you tug towards yourself with one hand, grip on her face with the other holding her in place, dragging through skin and muscle and whatever else is in there.  You think the tip catches on something.  The momentum stops even though your entire shoulder still wants to move.  

It doesn’t matter.  This is enough, isn’t it?

You pull the knife out.  It just … slides free, easy as it went in. (You aren’t actually sure it went in easy; it was so fast, you used so much force ...) Your heart pounds so loud you can’t even hear the sounds she’s making.  She just … crumples.  Forward, into you, your chest, grabbing, grabbing.

She’s heavy.  Slick, growing more and more slick.  Eyes wide, staring up at you desperate but angry but desperate again.  (Disgusting gross wrong wrong why can’t you breathe?) You swallow, take one step back.  Another.

She can’t hold herself.  She loses her grip on you.  Slides down.  Hits the floor.

A few twitches, mostly in the chest, as her body fights to live and only pumps more and more blood from the gash you’ve left in her neck.  It’s so large.  Almost back to front.  God, it’s ugly. Disgusting.  The light bounces off the jagged strips of meat that are visible amid the waves.  (Your chest heaves with effort; God you should feel something why can’t you feel something?)

She’s so quickly laying in a pool that it’s mesmerizing to watch.  The red grows, spreads, reflects the derelict room around you.  She twitches in it, spreading it like thin paint.

The smell is overpowering.  You take a long drag of it, sputter a laugh. (Breathe, breathe, breathe--)

At least she’s not loud.  No one has come to check on you from upstairs, despite how heated your argument had been.  They know better by now, surely.  Better than to interrupt her.

The twitching slows.  A small jerk here or there.  A bubble pops from her lips, tiny, and the rest just dribbles out, no fight left.  Her eyes are wide, on you, but you don’t think they see you.  Not anymore.  

Is she gone yet?  (Does it matter?) Best not to wait.  Something must be done with the body, before the others see.

They’ve been through enough.  They don’t need to see this.

God, no, they can’t see this.  It’s dirty.  Too ugly.  Not for them. Not Credence, who’s seen enough already in this wretched world. Not Modesty, who still has hope, can still move on.  Not even Chastity, who’s clung to a lifeline of obedience behind masked fear.

Children. Children.

You wipe your knife clean on the hem of her dress, then peel the clothes off her as inspiration strikes.  (Your hands are shaking; breathing is more like sobbing, but sobbing is something you do with emotion so that can’t be right, can it?  Your face is making the right expressions for it, though, so maybe it knows something you don’t.) You do your best to use it to soak up some of the blood, tear off a bit to wrap around her neck so she doesn’t drip as much while you drag her to the back door.  You scour the kitchen for accelerants, grab dirty towels for the rest of the puddle, and have the fire roaring in a trash bin behind the church and the floor scrubbed before the sound of footsteps on the stairs has you looking up.

Your heart hasn’t settled down yet.  Nothing feels real.  You’re walking in a dream.

A wet, crimson dream, but your beautiful, glorious Credence is descending the stairs like Cinderella arriving at the Royal Ball, fearful glances being shot around for his wicked mother, head dipped and shoulders hunched but for the first time, free. Safe.

He doesn’t know it yet.  Your heart leaps for him.

Everything hurts and you’re gonna be sick (oh, that’s what that is) but it’s worth it, so fucking worth it because she’ll never fucking touch him again, never.

Your head is swimming.  Credence turns his eyes to you, slowly, after sweeping the room, and his nose wrinkles.

“I came to check if she... are you alright?”  He’s so quiet.  Such a pretty, deep voice, hidden behind fear.  “Where is she?”

You can’t take your eyes off of him.

She’s burning, you want to laugh.  She’ll burn forever in the Hell she preached now,if it exists.  Like she deserves.

Your throat is tight.  You can’t breathe again.  Instead, you turn and force yourself to look away.  To look at the doors that stand between you and the fire.

The blazes lick around the bundle there like hundreds of tiny, fiery hands grabbing, grabbing.  Like the hands of the children who’d come to her, begging food.  Like she grabbed at you. Drag her down.  Drag her to Hell.  Make her suffer, please.  Suffer for every mark on his skin, every time he’s ever flinched, every unkind word he’s ever heard.  Fucking burn.

The chanting sounds ... gleeful, in your head.  (But also angry?  So, so angry.)

The girls, too.  Burn for them.  Every child who has seen themselves in her hurtful words and evil pamphlets, who’s been forced to stomach her for a morsel of food on the streets, every adult who’s listened and agreed and had their hearts tainted and went on to be just as evil, as cruel--

(The glee is gone.  It’s just the anger now, but sadness feels like a small child tucked behind Anger’s heels, watching.)

But so much for him, for him, because I love him so damn much and he cries, he’s cried, he’s been hurt and he’ll never be quite who he could have been without her he’ll never know that Credence and fuck her for taking that from him, damn her for the memory of her he’ll always carry.

It’s too much.  You’re on your knees, and Credence is there, and you’re crying again, you don’t know what the fuck this is, what the hell is happening, what you even feel (but it is feeling, at least you think, and it’s so sudden it feels like an attack from no where). It’s all too much.

But it’s over.  He’ll never come to you crying again, bleeding and scared and confused and hurting inside and out.  Safe, Credence is safe and fuck the damage this has done to your soul or whatever it is that people worry about when you take a life.  It seems like such a small price to pay for this.  For him.

(It was so easy.  So quick.  And she deserved it.  Deserved death, and so much more.  Hell, maybe it was too quick.  But at least it’s over.)

Dust to dust, you sneer at the door, tucked into Credence’s arms, the floor still wet beneath the two of you from your scrubbing, from her blood.  (Where is it all coming from?  One after another, they bombard you, and you hate them all—these feelings.)

Your devil god didn’t save you, monster woman.  No god saved Credence, either, unless that salvation was in sending me, and if that’s so, what took so fucking long?

God themself better come down and apologize to Credence if that time comes, or you won’t fucking accept heaven.  And if hell awaits, well then, to hell you go--you still wouldn’t change a thing. (Except maybe, if you could do it earlier) And it’s another chance to see Mary-Lou again, isn’t it?  You won’t say no to another chance to fuck her up.

Seems like you just did whatever god exists a service, ridding the world of her. (Should have done it themself, shouldn’t they?  Did them a favor.  Slacker. Can’t be worth serving, then.)

“Breathe, Y/N.”  Credence’s voice urges you.  “Breathe.”

You suck in at his command.  It’s more difficult than it should be. Doesn’t work right, stops in the middle.  Reflex has you trying again, but there’s no making it work and you choke on whatever’s blocking the way.

Cough after cough tries to fix your throat, and you suppose it’s working since everything burns but your chest is moving with much more gusto than usual.  You’re gripping Credence much too tightly; you’ll leave marks.

The thought slaps you, and the instantaneous release of your hands throws off your balance.  An elbow slams into the floor.  Credence grabs you full around the waist to pull you back into his lap.  The wet floorboards are tinting your clean clothes pink.

She’d soiled herself in death.  You’d vomited into the bin while trying to start the fire.  (These are things you know, not things you remember.)

Your soaked clothes burn with her.  So do the rags you’d cleaned with. You need to watch the fire, make sure no one tries to sneak into the yard to use it to warm themselves.  The bones must be dealt with when the flames die down.

Someone will notice she’s gone, eventually.  You have no money.  Neither does Credence, nor the girls.  Someone will try to take Modesty and Chastity.  Mary-Lou has not equipped Credence for life on his own.

You’ll need to be gone before they come.  Long gone.  All of you, if you want to stay together.  Chastity might fight you.  She’d accepted her fate under Mary-Lou, learned to think it was a fair trade-off, a roof and clothes and food under a tyrant.  She’d adapted to it to survive, emmulated her captor. She doesn’t know any better, won’t know what to do without Mary-Lou to tell her.

Modesty will want to go home.  Her real home.  Her family, her parents and all nine siblings.  And they won’t be able to support her any better now than before, and someone will come take her again, and who knows where she’ll end up.  If she’ll be cared for; if she’ll be loved.

You won’t leave Credence.  You’d die first.

Will he want you in his life, once he knows what you’ve done?  

You’ll tell him, of course.  You have to.  You could never lie to Credence, never keep a secret from him.

Not on purpose, at least.

(That he doesn’t already know you love him baffles you.  It’s clear as day.)

(Mary-Lou had known.  She’d said you’d burn in hell for it.  Called you perverse.  Called him worse, and damned you for loving him.)

(Chastity knows.  Had glared at you, warned you off before you made his life harder than it already was, dragged him further into sin.)

(Modesty knows.  She’d smiled and giggled and whispered that when the two of you were together, it was the only time she really saw Credence smile.)

(Maybe he does know.  Maybe he pretends not to.  Maybe it has just been too dangerous to do otherwise.)

“Y/N?” His voice is still so quiet dispite being absolutely drenched in worry.  It soaks his words as he speaks, afraid for one of the few good things he’s found in this life.  (Good. He thinks you’re good.  Are you good?  What is good?  Does it matter, if there is no god?) “Where?  I’ve got some bandages hid upstairs, if she’s gone ...”

Bandages? Your wipe at your eyes roughly with a dry bit of your sleeve, desperately trying to clear your vision enough to see him, look him over.  “Why do you need bandages?  Are you hurt?  Did she do something before I got here?”

He pauses a moment, then shakes his head minutely.  “No, for you, I mean.  I was asking ... where, if you’re hurt, if she hit you or--”

His eyes flick over you in sections, checking for something Mary-Lou doesn’t usually leave to be seen so easily.  (Except on Credence. She always hated him special.)

(Hated. Not hates.  There’s a perverse glee in that thought.  Hell, it is.)

“She didn’t hit me, Credence.”  You reach up a hand to his face, and stop.  The sleeve is pink.  (His lips are pinker.)  “But I ... I hurt her.”

The hand falls and you watch his eyes, waiting for judgement.

Those pools of brown are surrounded by white that only grows wider.  He cups his hands around yours and half rises to his feet, tugging you after him.  “You should go, you have to go.  She’ll be mad, you have to get away before she--”

You wobble up, but pull him right back, not letting him guide you to the door as he half turns, trying just that.  “She won’t hurt me, Credence.  She can’t.”

His eyes dart around, searching for her in every corner, and you wonder if he even hears you through the panic.  (Will he always search for her?)

He reminds you of a rabbit.  Scared, tense, vigilent, waiting to be devoured.

“She isn’t here.  And she’s not coming back.”

(I killed her I killed her I killed her I’m a murderer Credence a murderer shouldn’t touch you with my dirty hands but oh she deserved it she fucking did so is it wrong is it really wrong it can’t be bad if it was for you I’d do it again I’d do anything to save you)

A face without expression jerks slightly, telling you, no, she always comes back.

He doesn’t understand the extent of your words.  Doesn’t believe. (He can’t.  The fear is stronger, a life of abuse leaving instincts stronger than any words.)  His hands shake—just a bit—around yours.  You wiggle a thumb free and wrap it around to rub soothingly at the base of his knuckles.

You have to say it.  He won’t understand.  He’ll never be free; without the words.  It has to be said.

“I-I killed her.”

It seems wrong to touch him so gently when you say such words.

He blinks.  Once.  Twice.  His face turns in a few successive, slow ... almost spasms.  His brows twist in confusion.  You swallow.  (It’s difficult.  You have to try twice.) Your vision swims again.

This time, it’s a whisper.

“I killed her.”

The house is so silent.  The streets outside are louder than anything in the building; you’d never know two girls were upstairs.  (They know to be quiet when Mary-Lou sends them away.)

There’re voices and feet shuffling and life carrying on, business as usual, and all you can think about is if you’re about to lose the most important person in your life.  (What’s happening, what’s happening, the pressure is building again, the feeling isn’t a feeling but you feel it--)

“I made a choice,” you tell the silence as you stare at him and touch him so slightly and he fades in and out of focus.  “God help me, I made a choice.  And it’s done.”

Help me. The words linger.  Help me.

I don’t regret. A deed doesn’t change who you are, because the person you are still got you there, was there longer than the time it took to make one act.  Nothing is, intrinsically, different.

(I don’t regret.  She deserved what she got.  I’d do it again.  Who can judge me?)

Still. You did something difficult, something emotionally taxing, devestating, even.  There’s so much inside, screaming, roilling, barely able to fathom, to cope.  It was done, and it was done by you, and now ...

Now, you live.

(Shit shit shit)

“No you didn’t.”  His eyes drift down, unfocused, like he can’t understand it, can’t fathom it.  Back, forth, back again, he searches inside, and you wonder what’s in there.  Time flew by getting rid of her; almost like it wasn’t you, you weren’t there. Now, time thrums in your head like a shove with every heartbeat in your chest.  “You couldn’t.  She c-can’t.”

(Evil can’t die.  Can’t be escaped.  Can’t be beaten.  He can’t believe.)

He blinks, blinks again, and then brings his eyes back up to yours. Seeing.

(Can’t believe he could have been saved.)

“Y-you—A-are you ok-kay?”  Oh, god damn him.  He looks so scared.  So shocked. He’s already looked you over, you know he means inside as he meets your eyes and his hands tremble as they rest timidly against your knees.  One hand raises, falls back just as quickly.  His eyes are so wide; so impossibly wide.

“I’ll deal with it later,” you tell him, smiling.  (You are smiling, right?  This is a smile?  You need to smile for him, but you can’t feel--) “You need to go.  You need to get the girls and just ... get out of here.  Find a life; a real one.”

His brow furrows.  “S-she--where--”

He looks around, like he expects to see it; as if you’d just leave it there for him or the girls to come down and find. (He doesn’t know what it is to be loved.  Not yet.)

“I took care of it.”  Looking over at the doors, you correct yourself. “I’m taking care of it.”

He follows your line of sight.  You can hear the crackling of the fire, so he must as well.

Bones don’t burn.  You wonder if he knows that.  “I’ll dump the rest in the sewers.  But there’s no telling how long before someone notices she isn’t around anymore.  A believer, or even just someone she’s pestered inquiring after the quiet.  If you don’t want the girls taken, you all have to go together.  You’ll have to convince them.”  

(You don’t know how your voice is so ... normal.  What a pleasant day. It might rain later.  Got to toss the body, you know how it is. How’s your mother?)

(That thought was almost funny.  You might scream.)

He’s staring at the doors still.  His mind must be going, working, thinking.  

He doesn’t seem bothered by his hand still on your knee, wrapped in yours.  Your closeness.  

(Your both practically sitting in her blood—no no it’s gone, you cleaned it up it’s fine--)

Everything just fucking hurts, your eyes burn, chest too, feet ache, you’re tired.  So fucking tired.

He doesn’t move when your head gently rests against his collarbone. Your eyes close.  His hand squeezes a little tighter.  You feel the brush of his chin against the top of your head as he turns back your way.

“We s-should take Modesty back to her real home,” he whispers.  “If w-we can f-find where s-she kept her money, Modesty can take it.”

He swallows.  You feel the bob of his throat pressed to your forehead. You nuzzle into it.  (He feels alive.)

“Charity ... Charity will stay.  She’ll want to.  She’ll keep the kitchen going, for the kids.  Th-the church.”

It’s what she knows.  What works, in her world.

“I’ll tell her I did it,” you whisper back.  “So no one blames you or her.  She can tell the cops, if she wants.”

One of his hands pulls away, and everything stops.  Stops existing, stops meaning, oh god, oh god oh god--

He just brings it around, tentatively, and makes the unofficial embrace the two of you have created into the real thing.  He’s actively holding you close now, and damn it all, it rises up your throat from deep inside and just keens out, a sob like the world’s quietest scream, and you can Feel.

You feel All.  (Whatever it all is, whatever All means.  You feel it. It’s unpleasant, for certain.  But Credence is holding you, and that is everything Good, so what does All matter, in comparison?)

“We should ... take a train, m-maybe,” he says.  (The “we” echoes in your mind like a church choir) “St-stow away, like they say vagrants do.  Ride.  F-far.”

You hiccup, and nod against his chest.  “A train s-sound nice.”

(Anything sounds nice, if it’s still “we.”)

“You don’t have t-to go with me.”  (You have to say it, make it clear. He has to know he doesn’t have to do this.  You did it.  Just you) “You’re free, Credence.”

His fingers spread out across your back, start rubbing haltingly, like he knows the motion is supposed to soothe, but he’s never done it before, never had it done to him, doesn’t know if he’s doing it right.  (An angel, your angel.)

“You didn’t have to hate her.”  (You’ve had this conversation with him before.  He knows why you stayed around, even if he doesn’t know.)  “It was about me.”

When he says this, the fact that his head has shifted just a bit, that his lips are pressing into your hair as he speaks, drags a stuttering breath out of you.  You feel trembly, weak.

“I made a choice.  I’ll live with that.  You--”

“I don’t want to be without you.”

His whisper cracks, just a little bit.

And that’s everything

[ash818]

Oh that’s so sadistic: Jon having to watch his parents be near-caricatures of themselves. And the whole LL shtick... I can only imagine him wondering how. Or why. You know, after he’s chucked up his lunch. Welp. Abby. Nothing is written? Well, you have her name carved into stone at some point and weirdly, I thought: Oscars! But I wondered if you would. I'll have to think about that one. Actress, writer, singer...

Actually, I did kind of start writing some Legacy time travel shenanigans...

Kinda like so:

Turns out, it doesn’t hurt to get shoved the wrong way through a hole in the space-time continuum. It’s more like an unbearably intense cosmic tickle. Undignified, verging on pain, but you’d feel like an asshole if you complained too loud.

No, what hurt was falling four feet and landing in a wasteland of crumbled concrete and broken glass.

Next to me, Tish materialized in a crackle of blue fire six inches above the ground. Then she thudded onto the debris-strewn asphalt with a yelp, half pain and half terror.

“Tish!” I yelled, or tried to. What came out was more like a croak. The fall had knocked the wind out of me.

A cloud of choking gray dust surrounded us, and I couldn’t see farther than a few feet. Somewhere above us, glass shattered. I scrambled to wrap myself around Tish, and what felt like little needles rained down on my back. Glass tinkled onto the sidewalk all around us.

“What’s happening?” she gasped under me.

“Fuck if I know!”

Then the ground began to rumble and shake under us.

Someone grabbed my shoulder - a college-age kid with dark hair buzzed short, wearing jeans and a red hoodie. Our eyes met, and I knew him. It was a face I hadn’t seen in years, and never like this.

“Uncle Roy?” I half-whispered.

He didn't even hear me. He was attempting to drag me to my feet, but as I outweighed him by twenty pounds and I was clinging hard to Tish, it wasn’t going very well for him.

“Come on!” he yelled over the screech of metal and the screams echoing up and down the city street. “Let’s go!”

Tish scrambled up with me, and we followed him to a little square of green half a block away. With a jolt, I recognized it as Washington Square Park, on the east side of the Glades. But it was surrounded on all four sides by hulking public housing projects, which couldn’t be right. A strip mall bordered Washington Square. There was an Ethiopian restaurant in it.

Then the earth shook beneath us again, and all three of us crumpled. I covered Tish’s head and as much of the rest of her as I could, and we pulled up handfuls of grass, clinging desperately to the heaving ground.

When the tremors finally stopped, the first to his feet was Uncle - no, not Uncle Roy.

This guy was not my Uncle Roy, though he would be someday. This was Roy Harper.

He found a patch of my shoulder that didn’t have glass embedded in it, and he laid his hand there. “Hey, you’re kind of cut up.”

God, he even sounded different. I remembered his voice a whole octave deeper.

Sitting up next to me, Tish stared at him.

He knit his brows at her. “You all right?”

She nodded mutely, and I was grateful for her silence. My brain was whirring a thousand miles an hour, and we didn’t need to say the wrong thing before we understood the situation.

“You caught some glass too,” Roy said, frowning and reaching for her left arm. All along the back of it, where I had left her uncovered, her skin was studded with red. He mustered up a smile for her, and it was startling how soft it made him look. “I guess he missed a spot.”

The viscerally terrifying rumble had been replaced by the wail of sirens, and the night was bright with firelight and flashing blue reflected off columns of smoke. I cleared my throat. “We need to get out of here.”

“The New Basin Canal bridge is closest,” he said, turning on the spot to orient himself. It was difficult in the wreckage. With every other building half-crumbled in the streets, nothing looked familiar.

“Yeah. If it’s damaged, we move on to Almonaster.”

Roy gave me a strange look, but wordlessly he helped us to our feet. The skin of my back pulled, and the fabric of my shirt pulled harder. It felt like getting stung by a bunch of wasps all at once.

It was not a long walk to the New Basin Canal through the roiling dust, but it took a subjective eternity. Twice we rerouted around blocked streets, and three times we stopped at the sight of a hand or a pair of shoes in the rubble. Dug them out. Couldn’t do anything for them.

So it was almost a nice change to hear someone yelling for help.

There was no discussion. Roy didn’t ask us to follow him to the half-collapsed corner store. He just veered right and gave us a purposeful look. We went to work clearing debris from one window, and our hands were scraped raw by the time the owner and her two grown sons crawled out. All of them were bleeding from somewhere, and the shorter guy had a concussion, but at least they were walking wounded.

Dazed, they fell into Roy’s wake just as Tish and I had.

At a shelter hastily thrown together in a high school gymnasium just across the river in Gentilly Terrace, we caught our first glimpse of the news coverage. They replayed Moira Dearden Queen’s warning at least a dozen times.

“May 15, 2013,” Tish said quietly, sitting cross-legged behind me on a cot, waiting for EMS to get around to us. “That would make it thirty years to the day. Do you think the - the metahuman planned it that way?”

“Don’t know, baby.”

“If he could throw us this far back, there must be a way to throw us forward again.”

“We’re going to figure it out,” I said rotely. “Can you at least get the big chunks?”

She picked glass from my back, and all around us it continued to be, bizarrely and depressingly enough, the fifteenth of May, 2013.

It was eerie, the way the details of the world were subtly off. Our phones didn’t work, and when we asked to borrow a stranger’s, he handed us an ancient iPhone. Every cell number I had memorized reached an error message. The streets were full of old model cars, emergency services’ equipment was decades out of date, and SCPD’s uniforms didn’t look quite right to me.

Eventually someone came along with tweezers, sutures, and sticky bandages to take care of my back and her arm.

Our first night in the past was spent on the gym floor in donated sleeping bags, alongside several hundred other newly homeless Starlingers. Between us, all we had in the world was whatever cash we happened to be carrying, four utterly useless credit cards, and the torn-up, bloodstained clothes on our backs.

“We could go to your parents,” Tish whispered to me, lying on her side with me practically nose to nose. “Or Mr. Diggle. They’ve seen enough weird. They might believe us.”

From what I’d learned of this night in our family’s collective memory, no one we knew was likely to be accessible. Either Dad was still kneeling next to his best friend’s dead body, or he was passed out from blood loss while Dig worked on the arrow wound that had completely perforated his shoulder. Mom was probably frantically googling his symptoms, holding the sterile instruments, or silently praying he wouldn’t die. Aunt Thea’s mother was just dragged away in handcuffs. And Captain Lance - holy shit.

Here in 2013, Captain Lance was alive. He was somewhere out there in the city, probably directing survivors to shelters at that very moment.

“Not tonight,” I murmured, squeezing both her hands. “Maybe not for a little while. None of them are going to have the bandwidth for a couple of strangers claiming to be their relatives from the future.”

“I suppose I wouldn’t, if I were them. So we just make it through the next few days, and we figure out what’s going on here. Then we go to them and...” She sighed. “This is not going to be any fun at all, is it?”

No.

No, it was not.

[ultraviolettae]

Up and down

⇲ Pairing: Yoongi x reader

⇲ Summary: It´s a hot summer day on set and Yoongi can´t handle watching you lick a popsicle without wanting to fulfill his fantasies.

⇲ Word count: 4.326

⇲ Genre: Smut

⇲ Warnings: graphic smut.

⇲ Author´s note: This was on private but I´ve arranged it so that I can  repost it since I had to correct a few things.

It´s smutty and I´m not ashamed lol

You hadn´t planned this at all. You were supposed to be in your apartment, probably taking a nap or watching one of those movies that made you cry rivers even if you couldn´t relate to the character´s love life in any way possible. Yet when you had received a rushed and frantic call from your boss saying they needed you for today´s shoot, you had submitted to readjusting your plans and had driven all the way up to a forest in the middle of nowhere after cursing in three different languages. And now, there you were, almost whining at the lost of your day off.

On top of that, it was bloody hot. You squinted your eyes trying to block the sun as you made your way through the crowd, cameras already placed all over and staff members running across the set almost bumping into you and barely muttering an apology. There were various insects in the air that added up to the dry ambient and the fact that there wasn´t a single tree near enough to shelter under its shadow didn´t help at all. Your hands worked with a hair tie tying all the strands into a bun in an attempt to cool off and, slapping a mosquito that you had caught trying to suck your blood, a heavy sigh escaped your lips. Coming here - you could´ve rejected it, but it would only make you feel more miserable.

“Hey, you look pissed as fuck”

When you had agreed to come you hadn´t even thought about what exactly did they needed you for, but when you turned around to find Seokjin shyly smiling at you there wasn´t anything left to wonder. They wanted you to dance. Great.

“Having trouble with the choreography?”

You tried sounding as relaxed as possible. Above everything, you loved your job, no matter the circumstances. And as much as the day wasn´t going as you´d like to, Seokjin didn´t deserve your grumpiness, no less knowing how insecure he felt about his dancing skills.

“The other boys are busy having their pictures taken. I´m sorry they dragged you over here just to bare with my clumsiness”

One of your hands was placed on his shoulder and you gave him a reassuring smile. You´d sure prefer to be sprawled across your bed sipping on some kind of alcohol but, this was better for your health, you guessed. Besides, it wasn´t the first time something like this happened. Several times had you gotten your plans cancelled because the company needed some last second help.

“It´s no big deal. Let´s just find a spot where we won´t get burned by the sun and I´ll help you”

It turned out teaching the steps to Seokjin was quite fun. He had trouble with the body rolls and some of the footwork, but he knew how to laugh at himself when he made a mistake. He also had an easy way to make giggles escape your mouth, imitating the birds that were happily singing behind the branches or telling one of his dad jokes. He was about to finish one when someone appeared next to the pair of you.

“You still look like a spastic worm while dancing. Doesn´t he?”

You had been so caught up in your annoyance and in Seokjin that the thought of the other members hadn´t even crossed your mind. So, when you were met with Yoongi giving you an inquisitive look, you blinked twice. There was always something intimidating about his presence, no matter how many interactions there had been between the two of you already. The way his eyes were always dark, the slight poisonous tone of his voice, it all made it hard to be around him sometimes.

“Don´t be so harsh”

You sounded out of breath, but determined, and managed to look him in the eyes. Seokjin, for his own sake, decided to ignore Yoongi´s comment, which you were grateful for. The last thing you needed was to be included in a fight between these two, specially if you were on Jin´s side.

“Actually, Y/n´s help has done wonders. I´ll go get dressed, we´re starting in five minutes”

After thanking you one last time, he left both of you not knowing what to do as the uncomfortable silence was becoming unbearable. You were always unsure about how to act in front of him, his behavior always unpredictable. In all the years you had known the boys, he might be the one whom you had spent the less time with. The one that was less friendly, less open to establish conversation with you even when you were alone. Despite of that, you knew he didn´t dislike you. It was countless times that you had caught him staring at your body. That one time you bent over a desk to plug in your phone and you had caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror wall, his eyes glued to the rear of your ass. Or that day you wore a blouse with a bit of cleavage and had found yourself intensely blushing because of his persistent staring at your exposed skin. Each and every time a smirk on his face. You hated to admit that, even if he was just physically attracted to you, it made you feel some type of way.

But none of that mattered, of course.

He had never done anything that could make you push yourself into suppressing the crescent feelings you liked to think weren´t even there, neither had he done anything that could make you stop it. Either way, you tried not to think too much about it.

“I´ll go too. Will you be watching?”

The question caught you off guard. You fingered the bracelet around your wrist nervously, trying to find an excuse to avoid his eyes. Maybe his words were just casual, but he seemed to have an ulterior motive for them.

“Sure”

Despite the hot weather, a shiver went down your spine and you hoped he wasn´t seeing the way your cheeks were reddening.

“Good. I´ll be watching you, too”

His words pulled you out of your thoughts so rapidly your heart jumped against your chest. You could have sworn - you were sure this time - that there had been something predatory behind his words, something that you had never sensed before. As you watched him go to have his makeup retouched, you tried to brush it off. It sure had meant nothing.

Later on, you found yourself actually paying much more attention than you expected. You had seen the boys performing several times, but you had never seen them acting or behind a camera. It was quite the process, though, having to repeat the choreography numerous times until they all got it right at the same time. From the distance, you gave them some tips about how to get in sync, and you couldn´t say your eyes hadn´t drifted to Yoongi much more than they should have, your mind constantly pulled to thoughts of him. You hadn´t dared to look him in the eyes yet, but you had granted yourself a position in which you could see him up close. Letting yourself fantasize a bit, you observed the sunlight reflecting on the smooth skin of his collarbones, the mint locks of hair bouncing over his forehead. The others looked incredibly good as well, and you also directed short glances at them from time to time, admiring how graceful they all looked. And before you knew it, you were clapping along with everyone else and smiling at the thought of how good the result was going to be.

“Everyone! We´ve brought some ice cream!”

Your attention was quickly drowned to the cold treats that a manager was distributing, your mouth already watering at the sight. Taehyung approached you, holding two fruity popsicles that looked delicious.

“Here, Y/n. You´ve also worked hard”

You accepted it and a boxy grin appeared on his face, instantly lighting up yours as well. It was just ce cream, right?

“Oh, thanks”

You mumbled and nodded with a small smile, unwrapping the packaging. As you placed your tongue on the tip a smile appeared on your face. It was strawberry flavored, your favorite. When you were going to lick again, you noticed a pair of eyes boring into you. Yoongi.

You hadn´t taken what he had said seriously, until now. It was clear that he was watching you, some kind of desire written all over his eyes. You hugged yourself in discomfort, your arms pressed below your breasts unknowingly pushing them up. When his stare met them, when a smirk appeared on his face, it all made sense. He was getting turned on. Min Yoongi, out of all people you were surrounded by, was getting all riled up at the sight of you sucking on a popsicle. You decided to be brave for once. If he was going to stare, you might as well let him enjoy it.

The top part of your pink wet tongue met the ice again, flattening against it. You licked it once, twice without breaking eye contact. You continued doing that for a while, enjoying the taste as if you were eating it the traditional way. Then, you took as much of it as you could in your mouth to immediately take it out, slowly, your lips getting plumper because of the cold. All through it, staring at each other. Your mouth wrapped around the popsicle several times, your cheeks hollowing, swirling your tongue teasingly, all done at a slow pace. When the size of it had gone thinner, you concentrated on melting it, so that the liquid would spill down your fingers. After you had looked around enough times to see that no one was paying attention to the little interaction between the two of you, your fingers scooped some of the pink substance and you introduced them in your mouth, sucking it off with a gesture that clearly had a sexual nature. You stayed in that position for as long as you could, making the most out of it. And then, you removed them with a loud plop.

Whatever had gotten into you, you  liked it. It was fun to see him so stiff, his fists balled up and his lips parted in surprise. It was as if the thought of you being in control of Yoongi thrilled you, making you want more. You proudly smiled to yourself as you watched him finally move from his spot, his face as red as a tomato. After all, he kind of deserved it after all the times he had made you feel small under his hungry stare.

The events of the afternoon had completely extinguished your bad mood and you stretched your arms after having helped clean up the place. The sun was setting, there were only a few boxes left to put inside the vans and you were already fantasizing about arriving home to enjoy what was left of your day off when a member of the staff approached you.

“Y/n, have you brought your car?”

You gestured toward your black Volkswagen, nodding with your head and fearing where the conversation was going.

“Yeah, is anything wrong?”

He smiled at you as if he was already thanking you, even though he was aware of you not knowing what he wanted.

“We don´t have room in our cars for everyone, we´re missing one seat. Would you mind driving him home?”

That implied you arriving to your apartment later than expected and missing the first episode of your favorite drama, but, if you were in the situation, you´d like someone to do you the favor.

“Sure, and who will that person be?”

Before the staff member could say anything, someone appeared next to him and you didn´t need to look to know who it was.

“Me. That will be me”

Yoongi, again. His lips were curled up in a smirk and you wished you could smack it off his face. Suddenly you didn´t feel so good about the little display of pent up frustration you had made earlier, and blood crept to your cheeks. Why was it that as soon as he came close to you your whole body felt defenseless?

“Perfect! Then let´s get going”

You watchedthe staff member disappear and once again, you were left alone with Yoongi. Except that this time, you felt trapped under his stare, his black orbs not living your face.

Every single car left, the place now looking empty and showing its true nature without all the technological devices and human bodies that had been there just moments ago. All you wanted was to run away or climb up a tree, anything that meant not being in his presence. You were even tempted to run to your car and dump him right then and there so that the wolves could eat him in the middle of the night. But if that happened, they´ll probably sue you and you´d lose your job.

You inhaled deeply. You weren´t even making sense. It was just Yoongi. The fact that he had been able to get you turned on just because you had sucked off a piece of ice while looking at him didn´t mean anything.

“M-my car is over there”

He followed you, and his silence was only making you more uncomfortable. You wanted to fill it, but at the same time you were unable to articulate a single word.

By the time you had started the car, your hands were trembling. All the time you were driving he kept staring at you, even if the view behind his side window was breathtaking. You lowered your head avoiding a sun ray and your eyes met his momentarily before focusing on the road again.

“Can you stop looking at me? It´s making me nervous”

The words escaped your mouth before you could stop them and regret instantly swept over you. Even though you couldn´t directly see it, you knew he´s head was tilted to the side, that lopsided smile you hated so much plastered on his face.

“You didn´t seem so eager about it earlier”

An involuntary gasp left your mouth and your eyes widened. You hadn´t expected him to bring it up that way or being honest, to bring it up at all.

“What do you mean?”

Then, he placed a hand on your thigh, his slender fingers resting against your smooth skin as if that was the most natural thing to do. Your grip on the steering wheel tightened with strength you didn´t even knew you had in the first place. You regretted wearing a dress, you regretted what you had done earlier and you regretted that you secretly loved the way his hand brushed against your skin.

“Tell me” His voice had turned huskier that you were willing to admit and you tried to think about driving and nothing else “Do you think it´s alright to do that in front of me” The hand he had placed on your leg was moving up your thigh at a dangerous speed, now playing with the hem of your dress “and not expect a punishment?”

As much as you tried, there was nothing you could do to deny the heat that was growing in your core. You bit on your bottom lip. Focus on the road. Focus on the road.

The tip of his thumb met your lacy underwear and started massaging the spot. You reprimanded yourself for not having bought a car with seats five meter away from each other. Fuck. Those didn´t even exist.

“Y/n. Tell me if you want me to stop”

Hell no. The last thing you wanted was the warmth of his finger ,now brushing against your clothed clit, massaging it in slow circles, to leave you. You jumped in your seat, too startled by his touch and you had to suppress a tiny moan. As an incentive, you shook your head. You didn´t want him to stop. Not at all. This kind of situation would probably make you wake up tomorrow regretting life in general but, you were getting carried away. It was as if Yoongi had some kind of mind control over you. And the fac that he was asking for consent, it made your insides turn. Yoongi never worried about what you thought or, in that case, might want.

“Good girl. I´m sure that by now, you are aware of how much I want you”

You had to remind yourself how to breath, and this time you couldn´t control your whining. A moan left your lips, and he had done nothing but speed his movements against your now swollen bud. Yooongi, who gave you dirty looks all the time during dance practice when you corrected him, who always ignored you was suddenly teling you he wanted you. But, in which way?

“And by how wet you already are, I bet you want me to”

That was it. It was as if days, months of supressing your needs had been suddenly removed. You wanted him, right then and there. If he could make you feel that way only by rubbing your womanhood, fuck, you didn´t even want to imagine what having him inside you would feel like. Almost against your will, you parked the car literally in the middle of nowhere and you turned to face him. His hand was still buried between your folds, and you arched your back when a particularly strong stroke met your clit.

“Why are we stopping?”

You knew he knew the answer and you knew he wanted to hear it from your mouth. A wave of pleasure was sent through your core, and you tried to act composed and oblivious to it.

“Because” You tried not to moan again “If we are going to do this” He sped up his pace even more “I-I´d rather not die in a car accident while orgasming”

He let out a chuckle and his hand stopped moving. It was the first time you had made him laugh - that you knew about - and for a moment you regretted it had to be in an atmosphere like that.

“No problem, then. I can think of another million ways to punish you”

And before you knew it, your body moved automatically, awkwardly shifting between the seats and the numerous gadgets placed between them. As if he had been waiting for you, his hands immediately met your waist to help you accommodate on top of him, his hands hiking up your dress leaving your blue underwear exposed.

“If I knew you´d be this obedient, I would´ve done this way earlier”

Everything he said was a turn on. You liked his voice, the slightly seductive edge that had appeared only for you. His fingers dug into your ass, grabbing the flesh and cupping it roughly.

“I love your ass”

He almost moaned it, and you bucked your hips into his growing erection. The sudden compliment made your heart swell with pride, and you had to remind yourself that what he felt for you was pure sexual attraction.

“By all the times you had openly stared at it, it´s no surprise”

His eyes were darker than ever, his hands fidgeting with the fabric of the dress revealing more and more of your body while he was still fuly dressed.

“I wasn´t trying to be discrete”

You noticed his bulge pressed against you, and you rubbed your core against it. At this point, discrection was the last thing you needed.

“Don´t be”

The words seemed to have an impact on him, and he hungrily attacked your lips. He tasted good, making you want more even though you had just started. It took you a while to realize that it was the first time you were kissing him, his lips feeling as if they had been made specifically for you, as if you had already kissed before and you knew exactly what to do.

You separated to breathe and you spotted a protuberant vein on his neck, not hesitating a single second before burying your head in it and starting peppering kisses along his jaw line. You started rocking your hips against him, anxiously wanting to feel some type of release.

“Fuck. Keep doing that”

For once you were the one to smirk, the desperate tone of his voice activating something inside you. You wanted to kiss his neck again but, as you were about to place your lips on his skin, he pulled you back by your wrists.

“What’s wrong?”

Truly concerned about having done something unpleasant to him you furrowed your brows, but the amused expression on his face was telling you otherwise. He had something in mind.

“Ever heard of dry humping?”

You blinked, not expecting to hear that term at all. You had never thought about Yoongi being into that. Well, not that you had ever thought about Yoongi’s kinks.

“Yeah. Is that what you like?”

He lifted an eyebrow, a playful gesture that made him look oddly cute for the situation.

“Usually not” He found the zipper of your dress and he deliberately pulled it down along with the straps “But, it’s your punishment. I had to watch you sucking on that stupid popsicle” Your bra was now completely visible and he unclasped it without difficulty , your flesh meeting the fresh air. You didn’t complain, your eyes locked with his “Imagining it was my cock inside that pretty mouth of yours. You kept tempting me, and I couldn’t do anything. You got me so hard I thought my balls would explode”

One of his hands started massaging your breasts, the tips of his fingers pressing against your hardening nipples. His words only turned you on more, he didn’t have to swear he had been, and was, rock hard. You could feel it for yourself.

“Rub your pussy against me until you come”

Your mouth hanged open at his request and when you saw him place his arms on his sides, completely away from your body, you understood he was serious. You hesitated at first, but the way his eyes were roaming over your body encouraged you to do it. Your hips moved against the fabric of his pants, the friction causing you to get even more aroused. As you noticed his body relaxing under yours you sped up, alternating between thrusting and moving your hips in circles. His head fell backwards and he moaned, guttural grunts repeatedly delighting you ears. Your hand reached for your clit seeking for more pleasure, but once again, he stopped you.

“Play with your breasts instead”

At that point, you would’ve done anything he said. You cupped both your breasts as tight as you could, your hand reaching for your pussy wetting them with your juices only to spread them across you nipples. His dick twitched inside his pants, and you weren’t going to last much longer if you kept rubbing against it so hard. You kept repeating the same action, coating two or three fingers in your drenching core and rubbing the hot liquid all over your breasts while moaning loudly. Apparently, it turned him on beyond belief.

“Fuck Y/n. Now I want to come all over them”

His words were exactly what you needed to reach your orgasm, and you grabbed the sides of his jacket as your body convulsed, the pressure that had been built up in your lower stomach suddenly exploding. He obliged to touch you again, holding your waist to steady you between shaky breaths.

“That was fucking hot”

Your head rested against his shoulders, and you were not sure about what was going to happen next. You wanted him to touch you, to feel your body as he had done before, but all you got was his right hand lightly slapping your ass.

“You did great. But we’re not finished. You still owe me”

He signaled you to move back to the driver’s seat and you obeyed. Your legs were still trembling a bit because you just came, hard enough to make you feel dizzy.

“I don’t like the idea of your lips wrapped around something that isn’t my dick”

Even though you were aware about what you had just done and you yourself were naked, you blushed when he unzipped his pants, lowering them past his knees followed by his boxers. His erect member was now proudly standing in front of you, the tip redden and covered with precum. You could tell he wouldn´t be able to last much longer, and you wanted to help him. There was nothing preventing you from touching it.

“Go ahead. Suck me off”

You didn’t hesitate to spit on your hands before wrapping them around his length. He hissed, his thighs tightening and flexing at your touch. You gifted him a kitten lick before taking the whole thing in your mouth, your lips stretched to make sure you properly tasted his cock.

“Keep going like that and I´ll come soon”

He grabbed the hair on the top of your head and pulled you back, so that he could have a better view. In no moment did his eyes leave yours, as if he wanted to remember every single moment of him entering you for the first time. When you realized he was so worked up he had started doing his part of the job, your hands left his dick to rest on your thighs. He didn´t stop pushing inside of you until his tip met your throat, your voice muffled by him repeating the movement. You took every inch as best as you could, breathing through your nose, too caught up in the thought of you giving him pleasure to care about the pain. The only thing audible was the lewd sound of his skin hitting the back of your throat and some moans occasionally coming from him. His fingers dug harder into your scalp, making tears appear on the corner of your eyes that were going wider with every moment that passed, lust torturing them with each glance he directed at you.

“Fuck. I´m going to come…”

He suddenly pulled out of you and as he held his dick with one hand you saw him shoot his release, the hot liquid landing mainly on your breasts and some of it on your mouth. The sight turned you on even if you had just come.

Finally, he removed the cum from your lip, gently, and held it up for you to see.

“Open up”

Your mouth followed his command and you immediately swallowed, too fascinated by his bluntness. You watched him collapse against his seat as he put back his clothes and removed the sweat that had appeared on his forehead. With him fully dressed you suddenly felt too exposed and quickly reached for your clothes. Once you were back in your dress and you had brushed your fingers through your hair, you realized you didn´t know what to say. It was as if after both of you had fulfilled your fantasies about the other there was nothing left, nothing tangible to hold onto between the two of you. You should´ve had known that the fact that you had just had sex with Yoongi wouldn´t change anything, and it didn´t have to.Your lips were parted, your cheeks flushed, and your heart beating faster than usual. Yoongi had just given you the best orgasm ever, he had told you he wanted you...why did something feel so wrong then?

“That was great. I´ll take you home now”

If your smile had looked as forced as it had felt, he didn´t acknowledge it. Except for the reddened tone of his cheeks there was nothing that could hint that the two of you had just done something that intimate. The ride was short and silent, and he barely muttered a goodbye before exiting your car.

Back in the road, you wanted to hit yourself for being so stupid. He hadn´t even kissed you, or touched you the way you had dreamt about,  how it was supposed to be after you slept with someone. He hadn´t even thanked you. You sighed. It was just sex. Pure physical attraction. After today, Yoongi had made it clear: that was all he felt for you.

[thebugheadendgame-blog]

21 Questions - The Second Question

This part will have more of the scenes in the series to put a little back story and things into perspective. Very minimal changes were made in the dialogues.

When the news broke out that Cheryl Blossom was found at Sweetwater River, soaking wet and without her beloved twin brother Jason Blossom by her side, everyone was beyond shocked. What first started as a simple outing between two siblings ended tragically at the demise of Riverdale’s golden boy. The town once innocent has been overshadowed by the mystery of the missing boy’s body who was presumed to have drowned and whose body was brought along by the river.

As if that wasn't shock enough, on the evening of Riverdale High’s homecoming dance, an event to commemorate Jason Blossom, the said boy’s body was discovered by the Sheriff’s son Kevin Keller. The town would have continued to mourn the tragic accident had it been not for the bullet wound found piercing Jason’s forehead. The case had been reopened and was now considered a homicide – if not murder.

Buzz Buzz

Betty glanced at her phone. She was busy readying herself for school, her mind set on putting what happened at the Homecoming and After Party at the back of her mind. She even planned on going to Archie’s house so they could walk together despite her mom’s reminder this morning of how Veronica and Archie had already shown their ‘true colors’. She admits, it was hard to forget how Archie’s face looked when she mentioned them being the power couple.

Jughead: Did you hear about Golden Boy?

Betty: I know. Crazy right? I'm gonna ask Kevin later about it. Wanna come?

Jughead: I'll pass.

Betty frowned at Jughead’s message. A part of her felt sad that Jughead wanted to be alone and far from their circle of friends. Another part felt lonely as she wanted to have someone back her up given the situation she got herself into with Archie and Veronica. She knew she could count on Kevin but then again, she didn't want to burden any more people with what she's facing.

A few minutes later, Betty found herself knocking on the Andrews’ door, her heart banging against her ribcage.

“You can do this Betty. I know you can.” She breathed heavily and looked straight on. As if on cue, her ginger friend had opened the door, clearly surprised to find her there.

“Walk me to school?” She asked casually. She saw the look of relief on Archie’s face as he nodded. There was still a pinch in her heart from remembering how Archie had turned down her proposition of being a couple but as the saying goes, life must go on.

“Betty, about last night –” he started.

“How about we agree not to talk about it Archie? It would save us all the trouble. I mean, I think we could agree that our friendship is on top of everything. At least we'll be on the same page about that.” She felt a lump in hear throat as she tried to bury whatever feelings she had for her friend at the back of everything. It's hard trying to be bigger than the problem but she's gotta try right?

“Okay, I understand.” He said, dropping whatever he intended on saying.

Betty was thankful and at the same time slightly disappointed that he didn't fight to talk about what happened. It clearly shows that he stood by his answer last night and that sleeping on it didn't change the fact that they were just friends.

Upon arriving in school, Betty was greeted by Kevin who looked unshaken by the recent events. For someone who tripped on Jason’s dead body, he was taking it calmly.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Betty said while walking in the school corridors with her friend.

“What, about finding the body? Creeped out to say in the least Betty. But I'm also frustrated at a certain Bulldog whose name rhymes with Goose.” He said rolling his eyes.

Betty's eyebrows knotted in confusion. “You mean Moose—”

“Shhh! Don't say his name out loud. I swear that boy can hear like a mile away.”

“So what's up with you and Goose?” She said awkwardly which earned another eye roll.

“He's just like any typical boy who’s going through a confused phase in his life. And I'm just a guy who's got spare time to entertain such. It's nothing serious. After all, he is dating Midge.” He said nonchalantly.

Betty admired how her friend was able to handle this head on. She somehow wished she could be just like everyone else who can shrug a heartbreak in a blink of an eye. .

She was supposed to ask him more about it but both their attention was taken aback by the bouquet of yellow roses on top of Betty's table at the student center.

“Oh my God, those are gorgeous. Are those for Betty, Mrs. Philips?” Kevin said before picking up the card.

“That's why I called her.” The secretary said in a irritated voice, clearly annoyed with the students and their drama.

“Who is it from?” Kevin opened the card and read it's content but Betty already had an idea of who gave it to her.

“It's probably from V—” she started but was cut off by the blue jasmine herself.

“—Veronica. The yellow is for friendship.” She said coming in with a smile and another peace offering in her hands. “It's magnolia cupcakes straight from New York. As like what my mom used to say, there's no wrong that can't be corrected by the right cupcake.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow at Veronica and cast a glance at Betty, as if saying Was she serious?

Betty shrugged her shoulders and just smiled. “I swear B, I'm so sorry for what happened the other night. It was clearly a bitch move. I have no excuse for what I did.”

For some reason, Betty saw and heard the sincerity in Veronica’s apology. She just nodded and Veronica looked pleased.

“I promise I'll make it up to you. I booked us a mani pedi at Hers & Hers, we can go there after school?” She had a hopeful look in her face.

“Sure.” Betty answered. Veronica squealed in joy and hugged her before linking arms with her and pulling her towards their usual place.

She saw the look Kevin gave her but she just shrugged and allowed Veronica to pull her away.

When they arrived, Betty saw Archie with his guitar on hand, strumming a few notes.

“Anything new for us today Archiekins?” Veronica asked trying to keep things casual.

“Nothing finished. It's still in the works.” He said.

“Let’s hear it.” Kevin prompted. He looked from Kevin to Veronica who both signaled that he should do it to avoid any tension.

“I'd love to hear it Arch.” Betty said in a soft voice.

Archie nodded and started playing.

As if her mind were playing tricks on her, memories of her and Archie dancing flashed in her mind followed by the look on his face when she mentioned about being together. She saw how Veronica and Archie entered Cheryl’s closet, not once casting a glance at their hurting friend.

She felt her chest constrict at the pain it caused and looked away from her best friend. Her once safe place was now tainted by the unrequited feelings and rejection.

“Betty? You okay?” She hadn't noticed that he stopped playing and was now looking at her with concern in his eyes.

“I'm supposed to say yes, being the nice girl but I can't.” Her voice broke as tears formed in her eyes. She stood quickly and ran off far from the gang only to be followed by Archie.

“Betty wait!” He pulled her arm causing her to face him.

“I'm sorry Archie. I thought I could pretend that everything is okay but it's not. When I think of a safe and happy place, I think of us in a booth at Pop’s or at the homecoming dancing together. But then I'll always be reminded of the way you looked when I told you I loved you and it's not the same anymore.” The tears she had tried her best to hold escaped from her eyes.

“I love you too Betty. You know that. But just not the way that you want me to. You're the perfect girl. But I'm not sure I deserve someone like you.” His eyes were pleading but the case was long gone. For the second time in two days, Betty’s heart was crushed by the person she trusted the most.

She pulled her hand from his and ran towards the school, far from the person who caused her pain. Far from Archie Andrews, the guy who used to make her feel giddy but now tore everything to pieces. She knew this would happen. She just didn't expect it to hurt this much.

Her feet brought her to the dusty Blue and Gold office. She sat in front of the computer and placed her head in her hands. She finally let herself cry for the loss of a once innocent love, a love doomed to be unrequited.

She stayed in that place for an hour or so, missing her class. Betty wasn't one to skip lessons but she figured, this was better than looking like a horrible monster with puffy and bloodshot eyes.

She looked around the office after she was done crying. She saw the old articles once published by the Blue and Gold paper. They used to take pride in print journalism before everything went digital. She felt an idea coming to her and immediately texted the perfect person who would consider doing it with her.

She pocketed her phone and went on to the gym for the River vixen’s practice. Her teachers might be forgiving if she missed out on a class but she doubted Cheryl would be. Especially now after what they all found out about Jason. She was definitely on boss level bitch mode.

She checked her eye in the mirror to see if the puffiness had died down. It was still red but at least it just looked like an allergy. Maybe Cheryl would stay away from her thinking it might be contagious. A girl could only hope.

“Betty, where have you been? You missed lab earlier.” Veronica cornered her when she arrived at practice.

“I lost track of time. I was going over something and the next thing I know, it's been an hour and classes were over.” She lied. She knew Veronica didn't buy it one bit but then again who was she to question Betty? After all, their friendship was walking on a thin line. Any wrong move and everything would be over.

“You didn't miss much anyway. Just Moose requesting to be partnered with Kevin. He looked dismayed.” She said trying to lighten up the mood.

“Is that so?” Betty answered with disinterest.

Veronica was about to say something when the queen vixen has arrived to start practice.

“Gather up ladies. Let's get the show started.” Cheryl clapped her hands signaling everyone to go to their places.

After a few shouts here and there, practice was declared over when Cheryl had a brilliant idea of inviting the Pussycats at the pep rally.

“I swear I'm gonna need that pedicure after this. You coming Betty?” She looked at Veronica and felt that these little small talks she was starting were starting to get tiresome.

“I have homework.” Shpreplied.

“You know Cheryl hosting a pep rally is really showing something about her coping mechanism. It's either she's brilliant or psychotic.” Her raven haired friend said while stretching her legs.

“At least she's not putting on an act. Pretending to be a butterfly when she's actually a wasp.” Betty retorted. The look on Veronica’s face says that she was through being the nice girl.

“For the record, the only reason I went in with Archie was to stop Cheryl from doing so. I did it for you.” She said sitting up and facing her head on.

“Oh you did it for me then? So what, I'm supposed to thank you Veronica? Can you look me in the eye and tell me nothing happened between you and Archie in those 7 minutes?” She stood up and looked down on her ‘friend’, their emotions spiraling out of control.

Veronica was about to come up with something but Betty cut her off. “I think not.”

“Hey don't blame me. It's not my fault Archie doesn't like you that way.” Veronica stood and crossed her arms.

“We were fine before you got here Veronica—”

“Oh by fine you mean you pinning after him and what? Waiting for him to catch on your feelings? Face it Betty. Whether I was here or not, it wouldn't have changed he fact that what Archie has for you is simply platonic. You can't blame him for that. Most of the time the people we like don't like us back. Romeo and Juliet are just an exception to that rule.” Veronica said, every word spoken struck Betty with so much intensity. She was right. But she wouldn't admit it to her friend.

“Great news ladies! The pussycats are in.” Cheryl chimed in. When she noticed the tension between the two, it's as if she felt happier. “Oh did I interrupt something?”

“Actually Cheryl yes—” Veronica started.

“No. We were done talking.” Betty said gaining a look from Veronica. “By the way, I have an extra gift certificate from Hers & Hers for a pedi, you wanna come with me?”

“Don't you dare.” Veronica warned.

“Back off closet monster. You had your chance. Let's go B.” She linked her arm to Betty’s and pulled her away. Betty gave one final look to Veronica before letting Cheryl drag her away.

Jughead fingers were on fire. He needed the distraction. He had finally found inspiration to write his novel with Riverdale’s very own In Cold Blood. He felt bad at some point for immortalizing Jason Blossom’s death on paper but the recent events have sparked something inside of him. Therefore taking out his deerstalker hat, he resolved to figure out who caused the golden boy’s demise. He could think of one person who would be perfect to be his John Watson. He took out his phone and was surprised to see a message was already waiting.

Betty: Meet me at the Blue and Gold tomorrow? I have a proposition.

Jughead: Me too. See you at 7?

Jughead smiled at Betty's attempt to bring back the lost time in summer. True to her word, she made sure that she would check on him once a day at a minimum. Jughead constantly had to remind himself that this was just Betty being the compassionate friend she is and nothing more left for a different interpretation. He knew he had to draw the line with the budding feeling he keeps on getting whenever he sees or talks to his blonde friend. It was a dangerous place to stay at after all.

When the door to Pop’s sounded, signaling the entrance of a customer, Jughead couldn't help but tear his gaze away from his laptop. He saw how the raven haired girl, who was causing the rift between his best friend and ex best friend, enter and talk to one of the staff at Pop’s. He was surprised that the girl who dressed like a rich girl called the waitress “Mom”. He wasn't one to judge so he knew there was more to this girl than just catching Archie’s interest.

He decided to leave Pop’s to visit his ‘friend’ and confront him about what he saw earlier at the school music room. It took him everything to restrain himself from telling Betty what he had witnessed earlier today. One, he didn't want to hurt Betty any more than she already is by telling her that her best friend slash love was screwing the music teacher. And two, he wanted to make sure of his facts before actually doing something about it. What better way to do it than to get the information directly from the horse’s mouth right?

So he waited. He waited for his ex-best friend to arrive. He sat on their porch and watched as the sun had gone down before the man of the night decided to show himself.

“Jughead, what are you doing here?” His ginger friend said in surprise.

“Well Archie, I came here to ask you about what I saw a while ago at school. In the music room. You and Ms. Grundy. Ring a bell?” He outright put his cards on the table. There was no need for some beating around the bush.

“Keep your voice down Jughead. My dad’s inside.” He stepped forward and lowered his voice.

“So you aren't denying it? Archie what are you thinking? Is she taking advantage of you?” Jughead felt a rise in his emotions.

“You don't have a right to say that. You don't know anything. What Geraldine and I have..”

“Oh so it's Geraldine?” He scoffed. “So I guess she's the reason why you were acting strange all summer?”

“One of them.” He looked down in embarrassment.

“One of them? There's more?”

“We were at the Sweetwater River on July 4th. We heard a gunshot.” He said.

The gears in Jughead's brain had started working and he found a new reason to hate on his best friend. “And you didn't think this information was vital to the investigation of Jason's murder? Just who are you protecting Archie?”

“Geraldine told me not to. If I come up to Sheriff Keller then we won't be together anymore.” He reasoned out.

Jughead wanted to tell him more things but decided against it. His friend was a lost cause. Trapped between the webs of Geraldine Grundy.

“You know what? The Archie I once knew would choose what is right than what is easy.” He said before walking away from his friend.

He badly wanted to go to Betty and let out his frustration on Archie but he knew he shouldn't add to her problems. He didn't want to. He decided to blow off steam at Pop’s and let his fingers work it's magic on his novel.

Buzz Buzz

Betty was getting ready for school when her phone lit up.

Jughead: Can we meet at B&G tom instead? I have some things to do.

Betty felt disheartened at her friend's last minute cancellation. She had a lot of things she wanted to talk about with him and she thought it was about time for their 2nd question.

She quickly replied an okay before heading off to school. She was looking forward to seeing Veronica as she had resolved that she would fix things with her.

Her time with Cheryl didn't end up well yesterday. It turns out, Cheryl was fishing for information on her sister Polly as she suspected her to be Jason's killer. Betty could be protective when it comes to Polly. It certainly was a sensitive issue for her.

Spotting her at the lockers, Betty grabbed her books and attempted to strike a conversation. “You were right.”

Veronica turned to look at her blonde friend and gave a little nod of acknowledgement.

“Those things you said about Archie. I guess you could say it's hard to admit things to yourself.” She said. “The boy I like doesn't like me back.”

“You know Archie may not be crushing on you, but he definitely loves you. And he's miserable without you.” Betty looked down and sighed. “My mom used to tell me, sometimes a friend is better than a boyfriend. Maybe this is one of those times.”

Betty nodded in agreement.

“Hey Betty you wanna hang out at the Lounge?” Kevin said. He was surprised to see Betty with Veronica, knowing about their small feud and all.

“Sure.” She said. She turned to look at Veronica “See you around.”

Kevin and Betty were discussing about the upcoming pep rally this afternoon when Reggie Mantle started spewing about his theories on who killed Jason Blossom. Betty felt anger bubble in her chest when Reggie implied that Jughead was the killer, being ‘dark and brooding’ all the time. He even suggested that the boy did things to the body after killing him.

“It's called necrophilia Reggie. Can you spell it?” Betty felt proud for her friend but it was short lived when Reggie tried to tackle Jughead. She felt her heart race when the angered teen almost hit her friend. She was thankful that Archie was there to stop him and all but it didn't help that Reggie insinuated that he was in on it with Jughead. Archie pushed him which caused a fight to break and ended up with Reggie landing a punch on the ginger, knocking him down.

Moose pulled his friend away from the scene and Veronica immediately ran to Archie's side to check on him. Betty was supposed to do the same when she noticed that her beanie wearing friend slipped out of the lounge. She opted to follow him instead given that Kevin and Veronica were already there to attend to her ginger friend.

“Juggie!” She called out, making him stop on his tracks and allowing her to catch up on him.

“I think you're mistaken Betts. Archie Andrews is still at the lounge. You might wanna go check on him.” He said, his stance indicated that he was prepared to leave so Betty held on to his arm.

“No Juggie. I came for you. I wanted to check on you.” She said softly.

“I wasn't the one who got punched but thank you for the concern. Can I go now?”

Betty felt hurt that Jughead was pushing her away. She felt genuine concern for him as he almost got hit by Reggie earlier. She didn't understand what's the reason behind his attitude so she thought of only one way to make him open up.

“I want my second question now.” She said with determination.

Jughead couldn't hide the surprise that registered on his face. He wasn't expecting Betty to pull her cards at the moment. He knew he could answer whatever she asked but he really wasn't in the mood. He feared that he will spill more than what he should reveal. But Jughead didn't want to use his pass card either.

He sighed in defeat and let his blonde friend have her way.

“Fine. Ask away.” He tried to be as nonchalant as possible but his heart was racing in his chest.

“Why are you running away from me?” He was caught off guard by her simple question. He expected her to ask why he bailed on her this morning or why he's pushing her towards Archie. Those questions, he could've given a simple answer. But then the question she threw at him was just too personal and close to what he wasn't prepared admit anytime soon.

“I'm not.” He tried to stall but the look on her face meant business. He gave out another sigh before deciding to tell the truth. “I didn't expect you to follow me Betts. I had my mind set on you going to Archie first and not me. I was just… surprised that's all. I didn't think you'd bother to check on me. After all, I wasn’t the one who got pummeled.”

Betty felt her chest constrict at how Jughead thought of himself as unimportant. She had wanted so much to make him feel that he was important to her and that he was not going to be a second thought to her. Not after their conversation the other day.

“Juggie… I worry about you. Regardless if you weren't hit, I was scared that you would've been hurt.” Jughead felt raw emotions overwhelm him and he almost couldn't stop his arms from pulling her into a tight embrace. But he knew better. He knew better than to show his intentions to Betty especially now when she was still moving on from Archie. He didn't plan on becoming a rebound after all. He will just have to wait things out.

“If you and Archie were on fine terms, would you have still come after me?” Betty was taken aback by his question.

“Is that your second question?” She clarified to which had earned her a nod.

“I…” she started.

In all honestly, Jughead prepared to hear a no. He knew that if things had been ok with Betty and Archie, she would've come to his side without a second glance at him. She may have even tried to stop Reggie from landing that punch and put herself in harm’s way. It’s trait of Betty's that Jughead was definitely not a fan of.

“To be honest? I think yes.” Jughead was surprised by her admission and was more surprised at how excited his heart had felt at her words. He was starting to find this heart beating wildly thing to be a tad too troublesome.

“I told you didn't I? I care about you Juggie. And being on good terms with Archie won't change that fact.” He could've opted to push her further to expound on her answer but decided against it. He wasn't sure if he was ready to hear her answer to what he had in mind. He could reserve that for a later time. He wasn't in a rush after all.

He nodded at her. He was about to ask something when she was called on by one of the River Vixens. Apparently, they had to do last minute practice before the pep rally.

“To be continued?” He said, stealing one of her lines. She laughed at it and nodded goodbye.

As Jughead stared at the retreating back of his best friend Betty Cooper, he could be certain of a few things:

One, he held a special place in her heart that he wasn't complaining about. Clearly she proved to him that she wasn't just doing it because she was on bad terms with Archie and he greatly appreciated that he finally had someone he can go to in times of need.

Two, Betty Cooper was the most compassionate girl he had ever met and he would make it as one of his life missions to ensure that she won't get hurt by anyone. He would protect her no matter what even if it meant him being hurt in the process.

And finally, three, he hated to admit it to himself but it seems that his buried feelings for his best friend has started to resurface and has come back with vengeance. It was like spring time after a long cold winter.

He would be so screwed if he doesn't keep things in check.