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slaysksmska · 6 months ago

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The river and the princess (chapter 2)

part one

(Go to part one for all of the chapters)

Word count: 2700

Chapter two

NYLA’S POV:

I walked to the school after getting off the bus, with my friends, Noreen, Maria, Samara, and Aleena. Many think that I'm lucky since Eshaan asked me out, but it's far from the truth. He’s lucky to have me. He doesn't have the good looks or the brains to back up his popularity. Truth be told, I think the only reason that he is popular is because he’s good at sports, considering he was in the volleyball team and is definitely going to make it for basketball. Unlike him, I actually have the looks and the talent. I’m provincial 1st for track, at my age range and I'm a shoe-in for team captain for basketball, not to brag or anything. Suddenly, there was a pair of fingers snapped in my face.

“Hello? Nyla, are you okay?” Noreen said, eyeing me suspiciously.

“Yeah, yeah, just thinking about things” I sputtered out frantically, trying to get away from the questions.

As we entered history class, we sat down at our respective seats and took out our notebooks. Mr. Lloyd usually likes to give us pop quizzes on Mondays, so it’s important to be taking notes. I only share this class with Maria and Samara as opposed to my homeroom with Ms. Piacere. All of my friends are in that class, but it has that stupid bitch, Nina Smith, and her ugly ass friends, May, Zoe, and Niyyah in it. Since I’m a grade 7 and she’s a grade 6, we shouldn’t be in the same class but unluckily enough, we’re in a split class, made up of the two grades. I zoned back in when I heard a textbook cover smash close.

“I’d like to introduce you to our new student, Hannah. She’s a transfer from Savanna Public School, our hometown rivals. Since we have a new student and I don’t want to scare her with a pop quiz today, we won’t be having one. You’re all lucky, considering I know that more than half of you didn’t do the weekly reading!” Mr. Lloyd said to us, while the class erupted with cheers and applause at the mention of no pop quiz.

Mr. Lloyd just playfully rolled his eyes at the cheers as he made his way slowly back to his desk, uncovering the writing in a faint red marker on the whiteboard.

Get into partners for the new project

I quickly turned my gaze back to my two friends and as if reading my mind, Mr. Lloyd shook his head in my direction.

“The board says partners not groups of three, girls” He stated slightly irritated by my persistence

“Figure it out,” he said before turning his gaze back down to the papers on his desk

Old prude, I muttered to myself as I looked over at my friends and saw Maria had already beat Samara in what I guessed was Rock, Paper, Scissors meaning that I had to beat Samara to work with Maria. I looked around the room to see if the person the loser had to work with would be tolerable and then I spotted her, Niyyah already staring in my direction. I forced myself not to cringe as I turned back to Samara, lifting up my fist to see who had to work with her.

“How about the loser has to work with Niyyah?” I said with a grin on my face as if I knew I wouldn’t lose

3…

2…

1…

I played rock and when I looked over to Samara’s hand my eyes narrowed and I groaned in annoyance. She had played paper, meaning I had to work with… Niyyah. I gave them a slight frown as I took my chair over to her desk where unsurprisingly, no other group was. Just get this over with, I told myself while I plastered a smile over my face as if I had hoped to be in her group. I dreadfully sat in my seat next to her as I leaned forward onto the desk letting my elbows rest there for now. “Do you have a plan in mind?” I asked her as I twirled my shoulder-length, shiny, wavy, black hair. I at least had to try being respectful. She gave me a small shrug as she turned to face me. “I'm kinda lost, I was hoping you had one” She gave me a shy smile and mirrored my hair twirling.

I quickly stopped letting my hair drop down to its original length. She smiled at me tilting her head slightly playfully as if it was straight from a cringy rom-com movie from 2014. I forced myself not to gag at her efforts and just swallowed my pride. I couldn’t tell if she was trying to be polite or something more than that. Either way, I didn’t want to be friends with her and I definitely wouldn’t want to be more than friends with her. I guess I’d just have to suck it up and deal with it for the sake of this project.

“Well, I don’t have one either, so start making one,” I replied, rudely

“I’m surprised you don’t have one, you're really smart.” She said, while still twirling her light brown, dead, and frizzy hair.

‘Was she really flirting with me?’ I asked myself. How is she not embarrassed? It’s fucking pathetic and she stinks like shit. Was she working out before this? It’s not likely and you can tell by looking at her. She’s a bit on the heavier side, but there's no other explanation for how much she's sweating.

“Yeah, well I don’t have one so if you could hurry up and do the work, that’d be great.” I suddenly snapped at her, annoyed by her desperation.

She was clearly shocked at this, considering her eyes widened and she stopped twirling her hair. I didn’t have to be that mean, but she pushed me to that point. Also, I just really love putting people in their place. She deserved it for flirting with me and knowing I would never like her, not if she was the last person on earth, and not in a million years. But, that got her to shut up and continue working, which is something I was extremely thankful for. She ended up doing all of it, but I couldn’t care less. I wasn’t going to try if someone else could try for me, instead. The bell rang abruptly, so that meant we were going to our homeroom with Ms. Piacere. That meant I’d be with all my friends and someone…else.

As Samara, Maria, and I exit the class, we meet up with the rest of our friends and walk to our lockers. Mine is right next to Aleena’s, and she’s a decent locker buddy. Other than the fact that she puts all of her stuff in my way, whenever I need to get it. I get all of my books from there and head right in, sitting at my desk. There’s usually an assigned seating plan and I got so unlucky, ending up sitting next to Zoe on one side and Noreen on the other. At least I have Noreen, though. Zoe is usually reserved and quiet, so it’s better to be sitting next to her than to be sitting with either May and Nina.

Ms. Piacere isn’t here yet, so I get up from my seat and sit next to Eshaan. He was talking to one of his friends but quickly brought all of his attention upon me. ‘Cute’, I thought. At least he’s attentive, unlike some of my past boyfriends.

“Hi. I saw the note you left at my locker yesterday. Do you really like me like that? I thought it was cute.” I said, almost sarcastically.

I was interested in him, I just didn’t want him to know that. He can’t be too confident. Give boys an inch, they’ll take a mile.

“Uh…note? Yeah, I did ask you out. Are you interested in me?” He stuttered out.

Weird. I get the ick when boys start acting all nervous and shy around me. Why was he stuttering? I’m not even that intimidating.

“Yeah, do you want to hang out after school? We can go to the ice cream place down by the street. Roly Poly Cow? It sells rolled ice cream.” I told him

“Yeah, sure. That works with me. At 4?” He asked.

I nodded and walked away waving. That was the most awkward conversation ever. I know he’s good looking but I still need someone that I can talk to. I’ll have to see if he was still going to be this much of a wreck at the ice cream parlour. I then saw that Ms. Piacere had walked in, so I knew I needed to sit down in my original seat. Noreen came in and Zoe was already sitting down, while reading some romance book. Never knew she was into those, I thought she’d always been more on the tame side of books. We all sat down at our seats and waited for the instructions from Ms. Piacere to follow.

“As you all know, on the 1st of every month, we change our seating plan and that’s exactly what we will be doing today. Just explaining it so the new student, Hannah can get accustomed to the way our classroom works.” Ms. Piacere explained, while maintaining eye contact with Hannah.

She then started to draw the seating plan on the whiteboard for everyone to see. That’s odd, usually we pick sticks with numbers on them from a cup and have to sit at the assigned desk. As she was writing away, I decided to start collecting my things from my desk so I could move to my new spot, easier. When I finally looked up, I was pissed. All my friends were sitting next to each other and I was in the corner sitting next to some weird guy called Aksel and the quiet girl named Ruby. I haven’t even ever spoken to them before, why would she do this? I understand I might be a bit of a chatterbox, but I shouldn’t be punished for it. It’s not my fault I’m social.

Oh well, I guess it’s not the worst seat ever. Maybe they won’t talk to me and everything will be fine. I walked to my new seat and set my books down with my water bottle. The two were already there, so I greeted them politely. Ms. Piacere assigned an individual maths sheet for us to do, so most of the class was silent. Except for my friends laughing with each other and another group. I turn around and see Eshaan and Nina sitting with each other.

This teacher really has it out for me. Why would she sit them together? I know Ms. Piacere hates my guts, but to put my date with that bitch? That definitely crossed a line in my book, first she puts all my friends together WITHOUT me, then she puts me with the “weird kids” and finally if all that wasn’t enough, she puts MY date with that pathetic loser.

“You’re Eshaan, right? Don’t think we have talked before.” I heard Nina ask him.

He smiled, nodding silently

“I guess we’re table mates until next month,” She said with a welcoming grin on her face causing him to chuckle.

“Looking forward to it” He replied a bit more enthusiastically than I would like.

‘Who was he taking out? Me or her?’ I thought, rolling my eyes just imagining him on a date with her. I laughed out loud though I quickly shut up once I saw strange looks, realising I must have looked crazy. I just had to endure this for the rest of class. I finished the maths sheet very easily since that’s another thing I’m good at, I’m a straight-A student. Honestly, I never thought I’d be as popular as I am, seeing as I’m a bit more on the masculine and sporty side, considering all the other things I participate in. Anyways, that's besides the point, he still asked me out, not her. I repeated that in my head as I saw her and him double over laughing over a stupid joke that I couldn't make out. I felt the heat rise in my face as I looked at the two of them.

“He’s not even that funny” I muttered to myself angrily.

I looked over at Ms. Piacere, who placed her hand on Nina’s empty maths sheet as she shook her head in disappointment as she kept a prominent frown on her face. Nina stiffened which caused me to snicker quietly as she nodded slowly. I looked over at Eshaan who had a small frown on his face. I couldn’t believe it as I did a double-take over at him, since that was the first time he had looked remotely sad around her. I’m surprised it isn’t all smiles and giggles, considering they looked so happy around each other.

The teacher then walked away and was doing rounds around the desks to check everyone’s work. I already knew that mine was perfect, so I just relaxed and closed my eyes until I heard her footsteps getting closer to me. First, she checked Ruby’s, which was average at best and then walked over to the kid named Aksel. His maths sheet wasn’t even finished and he would probably get around 30 percent for it. Weird that she skipped me, but she eventually came my way and when she checked mine, of course, it was all right and perfectly done. She seemed annoyed at this fact, but frankly, I couldn’t care less.

“Ms. Piacere, is it possible if I could sit with the rest of my friends, since I’ve finished the maths sheet?” I asked, politely

“No, they are still not done.” She quipped back

“I could help them if they are struggling, plus I have no more work from this class or the others to finish up.” I voiced

“If they need help, they can ask me. You sit here, and you will stay here for the rest of May. You have wonderful seating buddies, ask them if they need help. Don’t make me sit you right between May and Zoe. It is an open desk.” She said

I just nodded silently, far too gone in rage to be able to answer her.

“I’ll post some more worksheets online for you, which you can complete. Practice makes perfect.” She told me, smiling like crazy.

“But there’s only five minutes left of class, how could I finish them in this time?” I asked Ms. Piacere.

“And you will use this five minutes wisely, instead of wasting it while arguing with me! You can see your friends in five minutes during break time!” She yelled at me, causing everyone to look our way.

I nodded and she walked away to her desk, to post the maths sheet for me. What a bitch. I took out my notebook and started practicing some more questions in it, and before you knew it, class was over and it was time for break. I tried collecting my things as fast as I could, not wanting to be in there for a second longer. My friends met me outside, but just while we were going, I felt a hand pull me back. It was Eshaan.

“Hi?” I questioned. What did he want now?

“Hey, um, I just have something to tell you” He continued once he saw me nod.

“Um, that note that I wrote, yeah, that wasn’t me. I don’t know who put it in there, and I’m really sorry. I still like you, like a lot, I just didn’t want to go on a date without being honest about it first.” He stuttered out.

I was seeing red. I was going to kill someone. I quickly walked away and told him to never speak to me again, not in a sad way, but in an assertive way. I opened my locker and looked at the note. Of course, how could I not see this? No one curls all the ends of the letters and smashes them together like Nina Smith. Oh, she is going to fucking pay for messing with me.

#lesbian #lesbianism #fxf #fluff #light angst #saphic #pride #lgbtq #fanfiction #fanfic #enemies to lovers #toxic relationship

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thepaintedlady00 · 2 years ago

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The Sandman and the Girl Without Dreams

Chapter 6: Friends As Endless and Constantine As Mine

REPOSTING! Sorry all, my app is glitched to shit so I'm reposting to fix the missing read more issue! If you can just like and repost or something to boost this one I'd appreciate it since the other will be deleted! <3

TW: angst, depression, slight horror, slight blood, slight gore (sorry for the late posting, technical difficulties are a bitch) BUT here are all 13,039 (aka 34 pages) of chapter 6!

1934

I was floating in an endless sea of stars, the ebb and flow of cosmic waves wrapping me in an ethereal warmth. For the first time in a long time I felt free. I should have known it wouldn't last. The stars around me took shape, a hand cradling me within it as it lifted me upwards. The sea of stars pulled together, swirling around two glowing eyes until they formed the vague shape of a woman.

You do not belong in the Sunless Lands, not now, not ever.

The voice was all around me, made of the stars themselves. I didn't understand.

Two tethered stars cannot survive this world alone. One must have the other or chaos and ruin shall reign.

It didn't make sense, but I could feel the weight of impending cold beginning to seep back into the air as the hand began to lower me down. It got colder and colder until it felt unbearable. No. Please.

So upon your head I give a gift. The blessing of the Night.

The cold bit at my skin and settled deep into my bones as I pulled myself from the river and collapsed along its edge. I was shivering, shaking, so violently I almost couldn't move as I forced my stiff body to roll. The stars were back in the sky clear and bright and warm and far away. A shuddering breath left me as I looked up at it in awe and wept. It was an odd sensation, feeling both disappointed and glad. I hadn't intended to survive and after everything I'd been through, death seemed like the last way out. Yet here I was, alive?

"Hello!" A voice startled me to my feet, but as I tried to move, to run, I started to fall. Two arms wrapped around me, helping me stand. "Oh, you poor thing, you look so lost."

"Y-You could say that," I replied in a shaky voice.

"I'll admit, I'm a little lost too. Well I wasn't, but now it seems something's changed."

When I had finally regained my balance I turned to the stranger and squinted. "Do I know you? You look very familiar."

Her smile was warm and full of comfort, something I hadn't felt in so long it felt foreign. "I get that sometimes. But I don't think you're supposed to know me, not yet… At least that's what it looks like."

She was beautiful, elegant and regal even in the simple clothes she wore. The gold of her pendant glistened in the moonlight as she shrugged off her shawl and wrapped it around my shoulders, rubbing slightly to try and warm me. I could feel the heat rolling off her and before I could stop myself I'd curled up under her arm, leaning into her, soaking up every second of that warmth that she'd let me.

She held me tighter and we walked along the edge of the river, back towards the dim city lights. "I should probably give you my name since I'm curled up on you like a cat."

"You don't have to," she said. "And I don't mind, I always liked cats."

"I'm Penelope." I gave her the name anyway, though I'd gotten the sense she didn't need it to know who I was. I looked up at her, her arm thrown over my shoulder as we walked. I knew her face, but I just couldn't place where I'd seen her.

She glanced down at me. "Don't strain yourself, Penelope."

At the sound of her saying my name, the familiarly sweet voice hit me. "Death." She smiled. "You were here for me, weren't you?"

Nodding she tightened her arm around me, shielding me from the chilled breeze. "I was."

"What stopped you?"

"You did." We were just minutes from the city now, just minutes from the world I'd longed to be part of for eight years of hell. The world I no longer knew anything about. I was scared, absolutely terrified, to leave the warmth of Death's side. To be forced to face the unfamiliar life that now waited for me.

The air around us grew colder, a sign that our walk was almost over. "Why?"

She pulled us both to a stop and with the most loving eyes she pressed my hand to my chest. The beating of my heart hummed under my palm. "You feel that? That's a beating heart. Your beating heart. You are here, heart beating, lungs full of air. You, Penelope Barlow are alive. You're alive."

Tears streamed down my cheeks. "What if I don't want to be?"

Death's smile was sad, but her eyes were soft. She tucked my hair behind my ear. "We don't choose when our time is up, not me and not you. I know you think I'm the only way forward, but I'm not. I'm the end, love. I know it hurts, I feel it hurting, but in time that will fade."

"What if I can't do it?" I asked, holding back a sob. "What if I can't move forward?"

"I can't tell you what's certain for you. Hell, nothing might be certain for you, you are special." She wiped a tear from my cheek. "What I can tell you is that even though you may not want life now, you will again. In a year, ten years or even twenty! Time changes things, heals things. It won't always be this painful, it can't be, not when there's so much love and beauty here, you just need to find it again."

"But why? Why me?"

"I don't know," she admitted sadly, sad that she couldn't help me further.

I wiped my eyes and looked out at the looming cityscape of London. It looked so foreign. "I don't know what to do now."

She grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze. "You live. For all you've lost and all you have yet to find, you live."

"Will I see you again?" I asked, squeezing her hand back.

With a shrug she smiled brightly. "When it comes to you, I don't really know."

"Then I guess we'll see."

"Guess so." She pulled me into a warm hug. "Goodbye Penelope. I might be seeing you."

As she walked off into the night I waved, whispering a faint goodbye. "I might be seeing you too, Death."

1946

I could feel the heat of the fire rolling across my skin. Shouts and sirens echoed in the streets, the neighbors rushed from their homes, running in a frenzy of panic. But I remained still, frozen in place as I watched it burn. This was my fault, I told myself. They wanted me… If I'd just-

Two firm hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me away from the building. Everything spun. The fleeting faces of the crowd swirling together like melting wax. The hand I'd been gripping onto slipped from my grasp. "Penelope! God damn it, Penelope, move your feet!"

Move your feet. Had I stopped? Move. I didn't remember doing that. Move. The ringing echoing in my ears had finally started to dull, slowly being replaced by my loud heaving breaths. MOVE! I stumbled forward just in time as the car flew past me. Hands grabbed my arms again, pulling me forward into the solid chest that smelt of ink and steel.

"I did this," I sobbed into him. "Olethros…"

His firm voice wrapped around me like a blanket. "No you didn't, this isn't your fault."

Wails and screaming echoed from down the street. The sounds still made my mind twist, threatening to pull me back to that room, to the haunted memories of the asylum. I cried harder as Olethros' hands covered my ears, blocking the sound from bringing me further pain. He pressed a kiss to my hair and said something I couldn't hear before he moved my hands to replace his and lifted me up into his arms.

He ran, we ran. The further we got from the blazing flame the more the pit in my stomach sank. I'd failed him… Again. The past eleven years were all wasted, because of me. Because I'd gotten too comfortable. The house… Everyone inside… Their blood was on my hands.

I was soaked in it, stained, in the blood of all the innocent people my rebellion had caused. All the people that chose to help me, chose to love me. All of them were gone. And it meant nothing. The Sandman was still trapped, our plan never being able to take shape. The cult once belonging to Roderick Burgess had gained more power than ever and the Institution… A weak sob left me. The institution knew I was alive.

Everything I touched I ruined. Everything I said turned to ash. And everyone I loved either burned in the flames or withered away by my side. Long life, perhaps even eternal life, had not been the gift I hoped.

I clung to Olethros' broad shoulders, held onto him, the last piece I had left to remind me I wasn't alone. "Rest, Inky, we're almost there."

The warmth of his nickname spread through me, lulling me to sleep with thoughts of what our life would be like in America. He could paint, I could collect antiques, and my friend and I would never have to be alone again. When I woke the ground was swaying side to side. Salt filled the air and the sound of waves hammered against the wood walls that surrounded me. I sat up in the swinging hammock, eyes darting around in search of the familiar tall burly redhead. Panic filled me when I found nothing.

"Oh good you're awake!" An old man wearing a sailors uniform said as he made his way across the room to me. "Thought you were dead for a bit!"

"My friend, where is he?" I asked, not bothering with any pleasantries.

"Friend?"

"Big guy, red hair, you can't miss him."

"Ahh yeah, he dropped you off."

Despair filled my lungs. "Dro...dropped me off?"

The sailor nodded. "Yeah, he brought you on board, told us you were goin to America and left."

My jaw clenched. "No... No. We were supposed to go together, he's supposed to be here."

"Sorry lass," was all he said as he turned and left.

Alone. I was alone again. My chest ached with the crushing weight I'd long avoided, the weight of the nothing that looked over me. White walls, endless halls... NO! I'm not there. I'm here. I'm here. I pressed my hand to my chest, holding it tightly over the heartbeat. I'm here. I'm alive.

God it hurt, it always hurt. Tears streamed down my cheeks but these were different. These tears weren't out of fear or loss or sorrow, but of anger. I was angry. Angry at everyone that had just kept taking and breaking down all I worked to build. Angry at Olethros, so angry, that he just left me here, after everything. Fire burned my throat as I screamed, throwing whatever I could get my hands on at the wall. But when the fire faded I was still alone. I sank to the floor, hugging my knees as I cried, the ship rocking me back and forth with the waves.

1968

America was just another shit hole to me. The anger I'd clung to had served me well, for a while, but as anger always did it burned out slowly. It faded with each year that passed, with each brick I'd built up once again from the bottom. My life here hadn't been difficult, the inheritance I'd kept from my family's estates and whatever I'd been able to save from what Olethros and I had accumulated, kept me comfortable, but the small surrounding comforts of a lonely life meant very little to me.

Truth be told I was scared. Scared to lose anyone else. Scared to be betrayed again. Scared to do anything but sit on the rickety bed and stare at the hideous wallpaper. A chill ran up my spine as a low, guttural moan filled the room. "This feels different. Your despair."

In the shadows the figure of a woman stood. "God not again," I said with a sigh. "Look, I'm kind of over the hallucinating so if you don't mind just fucking off right back to where you came from, please."

She shuttered. "You're so much meaner than I thought you'd be. But, he can be mean too sometimes… Oftentimes."

I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Look, lady, I really don't want to do this."

"You don't want anything." She said sadly. "That's why I'm here. It's why I can feel all the pain boiling up inside you."

"That sounds disgusting."

"No!" She cried, a glint of metal flashing in the pale light. "It's beautiful! I've never seen pain so beautiful before! You're special."

"Fuck me," I groaned standing and pointing a finger at her. "If I hear one more person tell me how goddamn special I am I'm going to throw someone off a building!"

The glittering fish hook dug into her face as she smiled. "Oh they're going to love you! But you'd best be nicer to them, they like to hold a grudge."

Anger swelled in me as I turned, grabbing a lamp off the desk and raising to throw it, but when I turned the figure was gone. I sat back on the bed and looked down at my shaking hands. I need help. The realization was colder than I expected, but it was more than I'd felt in a while so I welcomed it. He would hate you, I told myself looking at the wall. He would hate what you've let yourself become.

1989

Our lips were hot and wet as they moved in a poorly choreographed dance. My fingers had curled in his hair, his had done the same. I should have felt more... Pressed up against another warm body, the light buzz of alcohol, this should have been better. But it wasn't.

I pulled away, setting a hand on the stranger's chest. When I looked up, with my vision slightly blurred, his hair was dark and hungry starry eyes stared down at me. I blinked and it was gone, the dark hair turned light, his dark eyes looked down at me with confusion. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." I sighed. "I just need a minute, I think."

"Okay, well come find me later, yeah?"

"Sure," I lied.

Dragging my feet I returned to the bar of the old tavern, sitting in the stool the bartender had brought out for me. He gave me a look, the same look he'd given me two other times this week. Why was this so hard? I wanted to scream. Why did it always feel so hollow?

"My, my, aren't you just the belle of the bar," a light teasing voice cooed beside me.

The bright red lips caught my eye first as I turned, the cheshire grin sending a chill down my spine. The golden eyes and skin tight black leather of their outfit were both close seconds though. I shook off my surprise and met their gaze, a hum of something rolling from the honeyed depths. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh no need to apologize, little petal." They said twirling a strand of my hair on their finger. "You, it would seem, are the most desired creature in this place."

I glanced around, confused as to who this was and why they'd spoken with such familiarity. "I don't understand."

A throaty laugh. "Yes, that much is obvious." Wow, rude. I thought, clenching my jaw. Their fingers brushed over it gently. "Oh come now, I'm only teasing. I was hoping you'd be more fun than him, my twin told me you had spark, but now I'm not so sure."

"Look, I don't know you or your twin nor do I particularly want to, so can you just tell me what you want so I can go back to my night?"

The gold in their eyes swam with glee. "Oooh, there's that fire! I like it!" With a long, languid look around the bar they sighed. "All these people either want to fuck you or be you. Their desire is so... Simple." They looked back at me. "But you, you I can't seem to read. So, petal, what I want is to know... What do you desire?"

They'd moved closer, just an inch away from my face. "Some personal space."

Another long laugh. "I do love the attitude, but let's not kid ourselves into thinking it's aimed at me."

"What?"

"All that fire, all that venom and nowhere to put it. How tragic." They purred. Pressing a quick kiss to my cheek they turned to leave, but not without throwing one last insult over their shoulder, "If you ever decide he's too self important for your tastes, do remember my doors are always open for you, petal."

Through the crowd the shimmer of the black leather vanished. I did my best to brush them off. They obviously had me mixed up with someone else. The bartender set my drink down and arched a brow. "You doin' okay, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Just an off night."

"Looks like you ain't the only one," he said nodding toward a man alone at a table. I watched him for a moment, taking in his dark hair and sad eyes. Yeah, he's definitely not having the best time. As the crowd thinned he came to the bar, leaning against it trying to hide the sigh. "Whisky please."

"Oh, you'll have to be more specific," the old barkeeper said. "We have a menu now."

"Oh," he said, taking the plastic lined paper and giving it a half glance. "What's the oldest you've got?"

"I've got a Glen Grant old enough to be your father!" He answered.

A chuckle and a look, amused and cocky, filled the man's face. His eyes stayed sad. "I'm older than I look."

The barkeeper filled his glass, sliding it towards him. He lifted it to his nose, our eyes locking as he took a long sip. He wasn't ugly, quite handsome in fact, but I was far more curious about the sadness he seemed to carry so, before I could think better of it I asked, "You waiting for someone?"

He pulled the glass from his lips and smiled that same smile. "I think I’ve been stood up.”

“I’m sorry.”

With a shrug he looked into his glass, swirling the liquid around a bit. “We had a fight. Last time we were here. It was my fault. I wish I could say I was drunk at the time, but I was just an idiot.”

I smiled, taking a sip from my own glass. “Well, you do look the type. No offense!”

“None taken.” He said, clearing his throat slightly. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

He looked around as if the question had been outrageous. “You’re by far the most beautiful girl in this place and here you are sat alone with me and the barkeep.”

“If I’m with you and the barkeep am I really alone?” I countered, nervously stirring my drink with the straw.

“A fair point, but my question remains the same.” He slid closer. “What’s your sob story?”

I bit my lip, trying to fight the smile that started to spread. “That’s a very long story, stranger.”

He shrugged. “I’ve got plenty of time.”

“Is this your move?” I teased. “You make up a little story about being stood up by a friend and then come over to hit on lonely girls at the bar?”

With a boisterous laugh he shook his head. “That would be rather pathetic, wouldn’t it?”

I took another drink. “Eh, I’ve seen worse.”

“So, why are you lonely?”

“That is the question of the hour.” I had the answer, but I refused to acknowledge it. The pain of such an admittance would drive me back to where I’d been thirty years ago, and I wouldn't go back there. Not back to the hallucinating and the constant state of fear and pain that had all but consumed me. I owed him more than that.

"Well, lonely stranger," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Hob."

It was an odd name, but I placed my hand in his with a smile. "Hello, Hob, I'm Penelope."

He pressed a kiss to my knuckles and winked. I rolled my eyes and sighed. "So, you think your friend is still mad at you?"

"More than likely, he's the type to hold a grudge."

The barkeep chuckled, butting into the conversation. “I’ve seen plenty of friends get in fights in pubs. Even more of them laugh about it together later!”

Hob looked over the counter and smiled again, more amused this time. “Maybe in another hundred years.”

“Ah, you’ll have to have found a new pub by then. This place has been sold to make room for new flats.” The horror that filled his face was something I wasn’t expecting. Had it meant so much to him? Perhaps to his friend? "The borough council are trying to stop them, but if you've got enough money in this country you can do whatever you bloody want."

I sat with him for another few minutes before the place needed to close. He was still upset, still for whatever reason worried as we stepped out into the night. "Would you like me to wait with you, while you call someone or?"

"It's alright, I walked." I assured him just as the rain began to pour down from the starry sky. With a sigh I looked up at them, wishing to see the blue pair of eyes looking at me once again.

"Need an umbrella?" Hob asked. "I'm sure I have a spare."

I smiled at him, a smile that reflected his. "And miss out on the rain?! Absolutely not!"

"You are the strangest girl I've ever met, Penelope."

"Strange," I hummed, mulling it over in my head. "I quite like that."

"See you around?" He asked.

I shrugged. "Maybe in a hundred years."

The phrase seemed to light something in him as a smile, a real smile spread on his face as he tipped his imaginary to me. "A hundred years then."

2017

I pulled up to the club, tires screeching against the asphalt as I skidded next to her car. God damn you Johanna Constantine! I cursed, ripping my belt off and slamming my door. A hooded man leaned up against her car, flipped casually through the pages of his book.

"You're too late," he said in a rich slightly scratchy voice as I drew closer.

"Excuse me?"

The chains that seemed to bind him to the book clacked against the hood of the car sending a shiver of unpleasant memories through me. "You're too late to save the girl. Or perhaps you're right on time… It likes to change for you."

I kept walking toward the door, dread filling me at the way the man's weighted words clouded around me. "JOHANNA!" I all but screamed. The smell of smoke and burning flesh was pungent in the air. No. Not again.

I ran, ran through the double doors and almost slammed into the back of Logue, a man I'd only met once before and absolutely hated. He stared down in front of him, wailing, feet planted in place. I shoved him to the side and felt my heart fall into my stomach at the sight of my friend, frozen on the ground, clutching the hand of the girl, Logues daughter, that had no doubt been lost to his stupidity.

"This is your fault," Logue spat down at her and I didn't hesitate to whirl around and punch him.

The sound of his nose breaking beneath my fist was music to my ears. As he stumbled and stuttered out cries I stood over him. "If you want your nose to be the only thing I break you'd better leave now. And I don't want to hear a goddamn word from you ever again."

He ran out, but I didn't focus on him, couldn't, not when Johanna was sat there unmoving and practically wheezing. "Jo..." I tried in a soft voice.

Nothing.

I knelt down beside her and carefully moved the hair from her face. Her lip quivered. "Johanna." Her eyes had begun to water, tears already spilling over as I rubbed a soothing hand over her back and gently held the wrist of the hand that still held onto the girl. "Johanna, you have to let go."

Her chest heaved. "I... I can't."

"Yes you can," I assured her. "Let go."

The arm thudded to the floor and I pulled her into my embrace immediately. As was the Constantine way she resisted, tried pushing her pain back down and me along with it, but I still held her.

I knew this pain, knew it well, knew it wasn't one you could push down. So I held her as she pushed and shouted and raged in my arms. Eventually the fight left her and the heartbroken sobs filled the room as the remnants of fire and brimstone crackled beside us.

"I've got you," I whispered, blinking the tears from my own eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, Jo. I promise."

This promise was one I intended to keep. After all, Johanna Constantine had been my only constant in recent years. The only one I had to call upon if I needed help, so in turn I was there for her. Most would have called such a thing friendship, but she'd hated that word, so we'd called it a beneficial alliance, something she still hated but at least allowed. But, I had no trouble admitting that Johanna Constantine was my friend and that I wouldn't abandon her to bear the pain, no doubt ahead of her, alone.

Present Day

The rain had begun suddenly and had only worsened as the afternoon drifted to night. I saw the flash of white, her signature coat, in the crowd ahead. "Johanna!"

She, thankfully, heard me and stopped. I opened my umbrella, running out from my covered spot to catch up to her. She smiled as our umbrellas knocked together. "Didn't know you were out and about today."

"I was just looking at a few antiques from a collector." I replied, falling into step beside her.

"Were they shit?"

"Absolutely!"

She shook her head. "It appears you still hold the title of greatest antique in London!"

I scoffed and smacked her umbrella. "Bitch."

***

London. The city that he had been doomed to, bound to, for so long the mere air left him tasting ash. He hated it. The loud crowds of humans, the cars and trains and constant rain. This city is cursed, he deducted as he waited for the Constantine girl to arrive. She wasn't far, that much he knew, but it appeared as if she was running late.

As he stood out in the dreadful city he felt… Hot? An odd sensation filled him, one he shoved down as the black cab pulled into view and this Johanna Constantine stepped out. She paused across the road, speaking to the woman he knew as Mad Hettie, one of his sisters immortals. He waited for her atop the stairs, somewhere she'd be forced to speak to him in order to pass and when she finally turned and approached him he was surprised by how closely she resembled the Constantine he'd known.

She stopped a mere four steps away and looked up at him with a tilted head. "Constantine."

"Do we know each other?" She asked, taking a step up.

"We have business, you and I." Was all he said, all he was going to say, if there was one thing he hated more than this city it was the forced pleasantries mortals seemed to be so fond of.

She sighed. "Get in line, bruv. I can't keep God waiting."

He was baffled at her words, more so at the way she just waltzed past him. It would seem that while in captivity the humans had grown far more impetulant than even he remembered. So the king of dreams watched Constantine bicker with the priest about the royals and her fee. It was only when the demon tore its way from its host that he intervened.

"You talk too much," the demon growled.

Constantine tilted her head and smirked. "Tell me your name and I’ll stop.”

“And why would I do that? When there are far more enjoyable ways to make you stop.”

Now standing at the top of the steps, looking down at the demon and the one trying to send it back he called out, "His name is Agilieth.”

“I’m flattered you remember me, Lord Morpheus, after all your time away.”

Constantine looked up at him with furrowed brows and a pensive look. “Lord Morpheus?”

“He is.” Agilieth answered, not once breaking the stare of the king. “Though I confess, I almost didn’t recognize you without your helm.” Dream’s glare darkened. “I wonder where your helm could be.”

A test perhaps? To see how much he knew of what had happened to his tools while he was imprisoned. “I presume it is in hell, with the demon to whom it was traded.”

“Yes, but which demon?” He smiled. “Give me the princess and I’ll tell you.”

Dream considered it. After all, what was one mortal princess to an Endless? What was one mortal in exchange for finding his tools, restoring his power and his realm? Constantine began her chant once again. “Wait!”

She did not stop. The ring of fire circled around Agilieth. “Fine, Fine! I’ll tell you where your helm is, just don’t send me back.”

“Constantine stop!” He called out. Still she continued. “I command you!”

“Dream of the Endless commands you!” the demon shouted.

With a smile, smug and rebellious she replied, “Run along and fuck off back to hell.”

He watched as the fire encased the demon, sending it back to its home in ashes. He glared down at her. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

“I’ve just tripled my fee,” she answered simply as she turned and began shouting at the priest about how to receive her payment.

He was annoyed, though he probably should have been expecting the outcome from the close proximity to a Constantine. They, no matter what era he’d come across them, were a difficult force of nature. As he stood outside the church, listening to the ramblings of Mad Hettie a pang of guilt filled him as he thought of the cold and callous thoughts he’d had. *She* had been just one mortal, hadn’t she? Had things turned out differently would he have so easily thrown her life away?

The rough sound of her approaching footsteps pulled him from his thoughts and he turned slightly. She looked, if possible, even more apprehensive than she had before. Hettie huffed. “I said the Sandman and I meant the bleedin’ sandman. It's good to have you back, milord. Don’t let her mess you about.”

He gave the old woman a polite nod, taking her warning more seriously after Constantine's rebellion back in the church as he turned to her. She smirked at him. “My gran used to tell me stories about you lot.”

“I’ve known your family for centuries,” he admitted, voice low, a warning.

“Then you know there's not one of us that can be trusted.” For a brief moment, Morpheus thought he saw a hint of sorrow in her eyes, but it was gone in an instant. “What do you want with me?”

“Something of mine came into your possession.” He said simply. “A leather pouch filled with sand. I need it back.”

“Oh, that was yours?” She pondered. “I bought it at a state sale. Didn’t even manage to get the drawstrings open.”

“Where is it?”

“No idea, could be anywhere.”

“We must find it.”

“Must we? Why is that?”

Morpheus felt his annoyance at her vague answers growing by the minute. Why did it have to be a Constantine? He sighed, hands in his coat pockets fisting in a poor attempt to sooth the hot emotion. “Because without it my realm will cease to exist, and if dreams disappear, then so will humanity.”

Her eyebrows raised. “No offense, but… I could do without dreams for a while. Haven’t had a decent night's sleep in ages.”

“Nor will you,” he insisted, stepping into her path as she moved to leave. “Until we find the sand. We must go. Now.”

“Does this approach generally work for you?” She snapped. “You just turn up and order people about?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” she replied, far too suddenly. Dream resisted the urge to make a face at the compliance. “I’ll help you find your sand.”

“Good.”

“First thing tomorrow, and I work alone.”

There it was.

“No.”

She ignored him. “Don’t want you and your little friend following me all over London.”

“My friend?” He asked. What sort of trick was this?

Her head turned and she gestured off to the side. “Is that not your raven?”

Morpheus turned to look, far too quickly, too eagerly. For a moment he saw Jessamy perched on the back of the bench. For a moment he’d gone back to a point in time where such a sight was not uncommon, nor painful. The little black bird watched him, waiting with a stiff body and confused eyes. He smothered the warm feeling of fondness already forming with the creature.

“My gran said Dream always had a raven,” Constantine said, eyes drinking in his expression, or lack thereof.

“Not anymore.” Was all he could say, and even that had been too much. He approached the bird slowly, speaking softly. “Who are you? Tell me your name.”

“It’s, uh, Matthew, sir.”

“Matthew, I've made it clear to Lucienne that I do not require a raven at this time.”

“Yeah, she told me you’d say that,” he said with a loud caw.

If I need assistance, I will ask for it.” A lie, one Lucienne would immediately see through.

“Uh, you do actually…” Another caw. “She’s getting away, sir!” He looked behind him where Constantine had been and now no longer was. With a sigh the bird looked down. “This is why you need a raven.”

“Go back to the Dreaming, Matthew,” he forced out, though it didn’t sound as harsh as he’d wanted it to. Dream didn’t even need to look at the raven to know he would not listen. Ensuring things went as she wanted was something Lucienne was quite good at when she found something she felt worth her efforts. He’d forgotten how much he missed it as well as hated it.

For a while he wandered the streets, thinking of how to find Constantine once again. It was a simple task, but with his mind so scrambled even the most simple thing felt miles out of his reach. Stopping beside a water feature he looked into the rippling depths, recalling how he’d seen her face in the waters of his realm. It was only one of the odd occurrences that plagued him. They shouldn’t have done that. Those waters had only ever shown him the darker version of himself before. Perhaps it was because he was now the darker version he always saw in the water. Perhaps the dreaming had sensed it and changed to accommodate… Had chosen her because she was all the good he’d had in him.

The raven, Matthew, landed beside him with an uncomfortable stretch of his wings. “I’m back.”

The glare the Endless sent to the bird would have been enough for any human to go running off as fast and far as they could, but the raven didn’t budge. “Yes, in spite of my telling you to leave.”

“I… I can’t. I… The boss lady told me-”

Boss? His mind hissed as the unsettling wave of anger and jealousy rose up in him. He was darker, he concluded then. Darker and desperate. “Lucienne is not your master.”

Matthew clacked his beak. “She told me you’d say that too.”

“Do you know who I am?” Dream asked, slightly less angry.

“Not entirely, but I… I don’t even know who I am anymore. A couple hours ago I apparently died in my sleep, and now I… I’m a bird!” He shifted from foot to foot, stretching his wings out. “I used to have thumbs. Now I have these things.”

“Yes. And now you must use them to fly back to the dreaming.” A hint of pain laced his voice when he spoke next. “This world is not safe.”

“You think I don’t know that? I lived my whole life here. That’s why Lucienne sent me to help you.”

Help me. The very idea was like a bitter wine on his tongue. He’d done nothing for the loyalty of the bird. He’d done nothing. “My last raven came here to help me.”

“Yeah? Where is he now?”

Blood, bones and feathers. The look of her eyes as she held the small creature in her hands. “Her name was Jessamy. She died, trying to help me.”

With a soft click of his beak Matthew sighed. “I’m sorry. Look, let me at least help you find this woman. If she’s asleep we’ve probably got five or six hours before she’s on the move again.”

Of course, he thought. “If she is asleep, then I know exactly where to find her.”

***

Johannas’ favorite restaurant had, of course, been busier than ever. Every time she asked me to go out to grab it the store was swamped., it was almost as if she planned it. Which, knowing her wasn’t that far fetched, especially if the job she was going off on was one she knew she needed help with. No matter how many times I’d told her about my durability she still refused to accept any help unless it included staying at her flat curled up on the couch with a book or laptop doing research.

I had no interest in doing what she did, but after all she’d helped me with, I felt as though it was only fair I offered her the same amount. The Constantines were stubborn and more often than not paranoid when it came to friendships and love. It made sense, their line of work being as dangerous as it was, I just wished that she’d let me help her more. I also wished to not have to hear about it for the next month as she bitched about my softness. Another thing she wasn’t entirely wrong about. I was soft, well I’d grown softer. The old wounds had started to mend and, though I knew the memories and pain would always be there I couldn’t help but think that Death had been right all those years ago.

It took thirty minutes to get our order, and with another ten minute cab ride back to the flat I was certain the food would be cold by then. Johanna wouldn’t mind, especially if her night had been a long one, which was almost a certainty at this point. I just hoped it would be enough for her to finally get some sleep. After what happened with Astra… I'd never been more thankful not to dream before, but seeing Jo struggle with the nightmares always put a pit in my stomach.

I'd seen violence and death before, and as fucked up as it was the bodies and blood weren't what I focused on, weren't what haunted me. No, instead I saw my friend in a spot I'd once been in, a spot where no matter how far ahead you looked the future remained dark and full of despair. Johanna was strong, resilient and seeing her actually break was what scared me the most.

A large shoulder slammed into me, nearly knocking me and the bag of food to the ground. "Watch it, asshole!" I hollered, but kept walking to catch the cab that had pulled up. The air around me swirled with a tang of something, but so close to the car I didn't pay it any mind as I hopped into the cab and gave the driver the address.

***

Dream stood in the darkened, cluttered apartment, looking down at the sleeping Constantine girl. He'd seen horrific memories plague humans dreams for centuries, hers had been cruel and painful, but he'd seen it all before. So, when she woke with a gasping breath and tears in her eyes he didn't react. When she finally noticed him standing in her living room she signed, "For fucks sake. How did you find me?"

"You were dreaming." He answered. "But it was not only a dream, was it? It is a memory. No wonder you do not sleep."

He'd meant for it to be a statement of understanding, but judging by the way she clenched her jaw and glared up at him he'd not done it properly. "Maybe I don't deserve to."

"Perhaps not. But, I could make it go away." A bargain, he thought, would be the best way to ensure her cooperation.

"Only if I help you find your sand." She finished, the look in her eyes shifting into a more contemplating one.

Glancing around at the shelves and piles of things he said, "Though finding anything in this place may require more magic than even you can muster."

Finally she stood, having made up her mind. "I'll look in the office. Try not to clean up while I'm gone."

"I'm coming with you." Was his simple reply. "You have a gift for disappearing."

She smirked. "You'll love my flatmate then, woman can vanish in less than a second. She certainly wouldn't need to distract you with a raven." He felt something, a warm tug, trying to coax the question out. But instead he stayed silent and watched her as she moved around him. "If the mess out here offends you, just wait til you see my office."

Dream looked at the mess of the small living space and sighed. If this is what she considers tidy we'll be here all night. He followed her and the sight immediately confirmed his worry. Piles of junk, boxes both full and empty tossed about, clothes hanging from every surface, this was a true disaster. The Constantine jumped into looking in the furthest corner of the room, tossing useless trinkets or empty bags over her shoulders. It was a wonder she got anything accomplished when she lived like this.

They searched, well she did as he watched, for a while before she'd, apparently, grown bored of the silence and decided to fill it with questions. "So, you seem pretty attached to this sand."

"It is a part of me." He kept his hands in his pockets and watched as she flew through the space like a hurricane.

"If that's true, then how'd you happen to lose it?" Another toss, one that sounded fatal to whatever the object had been.

The small lingering spark of rage twisted in his lungs. "It was stolen by another magic user called Burgess."

Recognition sparked in her. "Wait, not Roderick Burgess? The old demon king himself, eh?" Recognition shifted to rage. "Woman beating piece of shit, everyone said he had the devil locked up in his basement, wait how did you…"

He'd felt the unpleasant curl of the memories beginning to swarm his mind, but the look she held in her eyes was deeper than mere pity, a realization. "It was you…"

"Yes," he'd said in answer, but the look did not fade.

"No… You're him, the man in the glass."

Impossible. Darkness laced his tongue when he spoke. "How do you know about that?"

"Holy shit." She breathed out, searching quicker for something in the pile. "My flatmate, the one I mentioned, stayed at the Burgess house for two years before the bastard sent her up the river to the looney bin."

He'd stopped breathing. No. This was surely some cruel joke. "That's not…"

She pulled the picture frame out front under a stack of papers and held it up to him. "Does she look familiar to you?"

His fingers curled around the frame, digging into it painfully tight as he stared down in awe. It was her. Curled around Johanna Constantines back, smile wide… Happy and eyes filled with the joy they'd been devoid of their last meeting. How? How was this possible?

The sound of the front door closing restarted his heart and for the first time in eighty years he felt the mark on his arm burn. The tugging sensation snapped into a forceful pull as he turned and looked at the office door.

***

I shut the door with my foot, and shimmied out of my jacket, scratching the puffed up skin of my mark, sending a dull burn through it, as I went. "Johanna!" I called. "You home?"

"In here!" Her voice was muffled by the door, but I could still hear something off.

"I got your usual," I said, opening the door and rummaging through the bag. "But they forgot the… Sauce."

All the air left me as I looked up, expecting to see the face of my flatmate, only to see him, the man I'd spent so many years thinking of, wishing to see just one lsst time. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. I wanted to pinch myself, or stab myself with one of the plastic forks but I couldn't seem to move, I couldn't do anything but stare at him. Had he always looked like this? So stoic, so powerful, so beautiful?

Johanna stepped around a pile of junk and grabbed the bag from my hands. "I'm gonna, uh, give you two a minute."

Once the sound of the door had announced her departure the Sandman drew in a breath and spoke the first words I'd ever heard him say, "Hello, Penelope."

Tears spilled down my cheeks as I closed my eyes tightly. The sound of his voice was deep and rich, sending a wave of power and emotion through me like lightning. When I opened them again and he was still there I said nothing, closing the space between us and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. The scent of sea and what I could only describe as stardust flooded my senses, further cementing this as reality. My hands fisted in his coat and for a moment of his body remaining stiff I thought I might have overstepped, but then the touch came, soft feather light pressure of his hand on my back, holding me to him. I didn't know how, but somehow I managed to get the strangled greeting out, "Hi, Sandman."

We stood like that for a minute or two, frozen in the embrace of one another, an embrace I never thought I'd get, before I pulled away and wiped the tears from my eyes. His hand stayed on my back, putting slightly more pressure there as if trying to keep me from moving away any further. The star filled blue eyes I thought of so often finally stared down at me. The sound of his voice surprised me, after years of silence I definitely needed time to adjust to hearing it. Now I just hoped he wanted me to hear it more. "How?"

It was a difficult question to answer, even after all these years. "I don't really know."

"What happened?" He sounded angry, hurt even.

I sighed and pressed my forehead to his chin. Perhaps the gesture had been too intimate, but I didn't care, I just wanted to feel him for as long as I could, as long as he'd let me. "After the basement…" I swallowed hard, pushing the painful flashes down. "I wasn't going to go back… and the only way I could see to do that was to… Well…"

"Throw a car off a bridge?" He finished.

Looking back up into his gaze I shrugged. "I didn't think you knew about that."

"Paul told me," he answered as his eyes filled with pain. "He said you were dead… I thought you were dead."

I blinked away tears. "I think I was… For a little bit at least."

"Then how are you here? How do you look exactly as I remember?" His eyes trailed over my face, my body, honing in on the mark and then on the long jagged scar on the arm across from it, that I'd given myself so long ago.

Shame burned in me as I curled the arm into my chest, pulling at the chain of my necklace to try and hide the fact I didn't want him to see it. "I only remember pulling myself out of the river. Everything before is hazy." His eyes were still glued to my arm so I nudged him gently. "How did you get out?"

His eyes returned to mine. "Paul. He broke the summoning circle, which in turn restored a small portion of my power. I used that to free myself." Another strong pulse of something swelled in me. "I kept my promise. Alex Burgess pays for every second of torment he allowed."

It felt good to hear, and though it was probably terrible, I smiled. "Thank you." Is he angry, hurt, I never came back for him? The sudden thought filled me with dread. "I… I did try to come back for you. I did… But…"

A cold hand stroked my cheek. "Do not apologize. Freeing me was never your burden."

"Still, I wanted you to know I tried. I'd be the worst person ever if I just let you rot there without a second thought, Sandman."

"Morpheus," he whispered and a warm feeling nestled in my chest, like the answer to a question I needed to be whole. "My name is Morpheus, Dream of the Endless."

"Is it Morpheus or Dream?"

"Either, but…" He paused, "People call me Dream mostly, but in private I would like you to call me Morpheus."

"Morpheus," I breathed, tested with a smile. "It's certainly not as catchy as Sandy, but it'll do."

"I hated that name, just so you know," his eyes glistened with the playful tone of his voice. It was so much better than I could have imagined, all of it.

"Oh I knew, but that only made it more fun." I laughed softly, before the silence turned more serious. "I'm glad you got free, Morpheus."

With the smallest hint of a smile he bowed his head, brushing it against the top of mine. "I am glad you did as well, Penelope."

We're getting out of here. You, me and Jessamy. I promise.

"I um... I have something for you," I said, squeezing the glass vial in my hand and stepping around him to get to my desk, buried among Johannas crap. I opened the drawer, fingers stroking the soft bag before I opened it and retrieved the small black pouch. I turned, placing it gently into his hand with care. Morpheus stood looking down at the pouch curiously. "It's... It's Jessamy, well her remains."

His lips parted, shock and pain settling into his features, the feeling pulsing between us. "How?"

"I'm sorry if I've offended you," I said quickly, a moment of fear hitting me. "I didn't really know how you wanted... I was going to bury her, but it just didn't feel right, trapping her in that place. So, I burned her, or well, Paul did… and kept the ashes hoping that, well… Hoping we'd get to have this talk." I rambled nervously, twisting the vial on the chain.

For a long minute all he did was stand there, staring down at the remains of his companion. When he did speak it was quiet, pained but grateful. "You should keep it. To remember her by."

He pressed the pouch back into my palm. "Oh, I... I already have some pieces of her with me."

"I see," he said, lifting the necklace up closer, admiring the feather in the glass vial. "She would have liked that."

"Probably would have tried stealing it from me," I said fondly, the hurt of her loss at last beginning to shift into good memories. Turning our hands I pressed her ashes back into his and smiled against the tears that began to swell. "Now you can take her home. You can find a place she loved and set her free."

His hand slid out from beneath mine, fingers brushing along my palm. "Thank you, Penelope. I will not forget this."

"Don't thank me." I insisted. "I'm sorry I broke my promise."

"I'll not hold it against you," he said, smiling a little. His mouth… I strangled the thought quickly. "I do not possess your unwavering ability to hold a grudge."

I let out a breathy laugh, "You know I highly doubt that."

The air between us had shifted to what it used to be, comfortable, familiar. I was happy. Happy he was finally free, happy he was here. Yet, all the questions I’d long buried, convinced I’d never get to see them answered bubbled back up to the surface. A twinge of confusion, of a need to understand what this was connecting us, filled my chest, and I suppose in turn his. His eyes turned more serious and he nodded his head slightly. “You have questions.”

“Yeah, you could say that…” I muttered.

“I have some answers,” he admitted freely, “But…”

“Later,” I finished, feeling the words before he even spoke them.

“Yes.”

I kept his gaze a moment longer. “There will be a later though, right?”

“Yes.” His fingers grazed my hand. “I promise.”

A loud knock to the door was the only warning we got before Johanna barged in. I took a step away from him, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable under Johannas’ scrutinous stare. "I get that there's some history here, but I'd very much like to find this bag and be done with Mr. Sandman."

I rubbed my chilled hands together. “Okay, well what exactly are we looking for?”

“A bag of sand,” Johanna said bluntly as she began looking around the room haphazardly throwing and stepping on things, as I was certain she had been before I arrived.

While I looked around I could feel Morpheus’ eyes on me, watching every movement, every shift, everything. When I felt his gaze shift, I looked over my shoulder at him, eyes trailing down his fit form. He wore a long black coat that seemed to hold the stars inside it, black boots and well black everything. It looked good. He looks even better naked, I reminded myself. His head turned towards me, faster than I was prepared for. And his voice sounded deeper when he said, “It was one of the tools they’d stolen from me. I need it back.”

“So,” Johanna started, her signature nosey face looking up at him. “You were down in that basement all this time?”

I quickly threw an empty bag at her and gave her the glare I knew she hated. He didn’t bother answering her, but I could see the pain in his eyes as he looked down to a small roll of photos that stuck out of the box beside him. “Is this you?”

“Why?” she practically groaned. “Do I look that different? Or younger?”

She took the photo from his fingers and held it between her own with a gentleness that showed just how much she cared. “No,” Morpheus said. “Happy.”

Suddenly her hand dropped, still holding the picture. “Shit. I know where your sand is.”

“God no,” I groaned with a huff. “You left it with her?”

“I know,” she started rubbing her forehead. “I know.”

I leaned back against one of the desks. “How do you want to do this?”

She shrugged. “The only way we can.”

I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “Oh, so we’re finally offering you up as a sacrifice? I always thought it’d be to some demon, but I suppose an ex girlfriend is close enough.”

“Not funny,” she said, slapping my shoulder on her way out the office door.

Looking over at Morpheus I smiled, “It is funny though, isn’t it?”

He looked at me in a way I hadn’t seen before, his eyes so full of fondness… no, that was too tame a word for it. Adoration, I thought, but quickly pushed aside. He didn’t adore me, he barely knew me. After a minute his lips tugged into a smile, small and fleeting, but still there. “You can be quite amusing.”

“Hear that Jo! Sandy agrees with me!” I hollered, basking in the look of utter disgust and annoyance that spread across his face that the familiar nickname.

“You are not calling me that any longer,” he commanded.

“You gonna make me stop?” I teased, far more flirtatiously than I’d been intending, at least out loud.

He arched a brow, taking a step forward, looking down at me with a darker gaze than normal. “I could.”

Johanna cursed from the other room. “Pen, where's my coat?”

“Raincheck?” I asked softly.

“I suppose, so long as you bite your tongue the next time you feel the urge to call me Sandy.” A wave of heat rolled over me. God that voice, I thought and his eyes flared. I wonder what it would sound like when he- “You should be mindful of your thoughts.”

Heat rose to my cheeks and my eyes went wide, embarrassment filling every fiber of my being. “Can you?” He nodded. “Oh god.”

I caught a glimpse of his smirk before he erased it completely. “I can’t hear every thought, just the loud ones… the ones you can’t seem to keep to yourself.”

“How long have you been able to do that?” I demanded, unable to meet his gaze.

“The duration of this conversation.”

More heat as I covered my face with my hands as I recalled all the things I’d thought over the last few minutes. “Oh god.”

He said nothing, but I could feel the pride he felt, and could see the smirk once again before it vanished. Johanna popped back through the door. “Found it. You okay Pen?”

“Yep!” I cheered, quickly moving for the door. “Let’s go!”

“I’ll meet you there,” Morpheus said, voice full of amusement at my expense. I looked back at him, Asshole. The glint in his eyes told me he heard it.

Johanna and I stood on the corner, waiting for the cab, when she finally looked over and said, “So, you and the Sandman?” I opened my mouth ready to tell her it wasn’t like that when she shook her head. “Don’t even try to tell me it isn't like that. I saw you checking him out.”

“Jo,” I whispered. “It’s complicated.”

She pulled me to her side. “Look, I’m not gonna lecture you. You’re like ninety years older than me and we both know you wouldn’t listen. Besides, I’m not really one that should be giving out this kind of advice. I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

I smiled at her. “I’ve been through worse, Jo. And for the record I’m only seventy six years older than you, I’m not ancient.”

“Not like your boyfriend.” She didn’t waste any time with the dig.

“Shut up.”

***

Dream felt like he was on fire. He had since the moment she embraced him. His eyes watched her as she walked ahead of him and Constantine, humming with her hands in her pockets and a slight skip in her step. The simple dress she’d worn bouncing up slightly with every movement, raising just enough that he could catch glimpses of her thighs. Dream found himself unable to stop thinking of the heated thoughts she’d unknowingly shared with him, of how tame they were in comparison to his.

“Who is she?” He decided to ask Constantine, an attempt to clear his thoughts and remind himself of what his focus had to be. “The woman in the picture.”

“Her names Rachel, Rachel Moodie.”

“Does she deal in magic as well?”

She scoffed, slowing beside him. “God no. No, She’s actually a decent person. Proper job, nice family. She fuckin’ hated all the magic stuff.”

“And yet you left the sand with her.”

“I did not leave it with her. Sort of left it, and her.” The two shared a look, hers one of pain and guilt and his one of understanding, perhaps even sympathy if he was feeling generous. Constantine looked away and released a huff of annoyance. “I was staying at her place for a few months. She interpreted that as us living together, which we weren’t, so, one night I just went on a job and… never went back.”

“Why?” He hadn’t meant to ask it, but as he watched Penelope look up to the sky and smile the word just slipped past his lips.

"Because it never ends well, does it?" She looked over at him, following the steady gaze that fell on her flatmate.

"What? Love?" Dream looked down at her for a moment before his eyes returned ahead of them to Penelope. If one fact had remained true over the long years that had separated them it was that he did not deserve her. "No, I suppose it doesn't."

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but people around me tend to get ripped in half or cast down to Hell.”

“Not all of them,” he replied.

Johanna smiled, looking over at the girl they both seemed to share a common fondness of. “She’s different. Pen doesn’t need me to look after her, not really. She’s been through far worse and somehow come out of it all still her… Still good. But Rachel, she wasn’t used to this kind of life. It was safer for her if I left.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“No.” She said as they finally neared the door. “I suppose I’ll have to now.”

Penelope hopped down from the step and gestured to the door. “It’s still her.”

“Bollocks.” She shoved her friend up to the box. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and she won’t be-” The sound of the door buzzing echoed in the small enclosed space and Constantines face fell. “Weird… She didn’t even ask who it is.”

“Johanna,” Penelope tried to interrupt.

“Maybe she’s expecting someone. This could get awkward. More. Awkward.”

“Do you want me to come up with you?” Penelope asked once the nervousness became too obvious to ignore.

“No, you lot wait here.”

“I’m coming with you,” he insisted, not wanting to risk her running again.

“No you’re not. Do you have any idea how much she probably hates me right now? Do you have ex girlfriends?” His jaw clenched. Yes, he had many… Many who would not be pleased to see him ever again. Many whom he would have to tell her about. No. He forced the cold thought. No, he would retrieve his tools, save the dreaming, give her whatever explanation he needed to in order to satisfy her curious mind and then he would let her go back to her life. The life she’d built without him, the one she knew and the one that would keep her safe.

“I will not wait long.”

“You won’t have to,” Constantine assured. “She’s gonna slam the door in my face.”

He and Penelope waited until the door slammed closed before looking at one another. She leaned over towards him, “How long do you think it’ll take them to get undressed?”

Tilting his head at her he smiled. “What makes you think this woman will be keen on reconnecting?”

She shrugged. “I just know Johanna.”

***

The rain had started not long after Johanna disappeared upstairs and as it began to come down harder a small black mass shot down from the sky and landed roughly onto the pavement. Morpheus looked down with a sigh. “Matthew.”

“This is a bad idea.” The raven shook off his wings and looked at Morpheus, then to me. “Uh, sorry, I thought it was just you out here.”

My eyes widened at the voice of the bird. “Oh… the raven talks.”

“The raven has a name,” he said grumpily.

Morpheus sighed. “Penelope, this is Matthew.”

I knelt down and smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Matthew. Sorry I’m just a bit new to talking animals, or spirits, or whatever it is you are.”

His feathers smoothed out. “I guess that’s fair. I’m kind of new to this too.”

“You’re a magnificent raven,” I said, holding a hand out. “Would you like me to hold you? So you don’t have to look up so high?”

“Well… Yeah, I guess that sounds nice.” He said slowly, hopping into my hand and gripping me tightly as I rose back up and held him out to Morpheus, who looked at us with a softness in his usual hard exterior expressions.

“Anyway, I say this as someone who was recently human.” I let the question go. Later. “Human beings cannot be trusted.”

“No.”

“If I were Johanna Constantine, I’d be up there cutting a deal with Rachel to keep the sand, then cut the dream sand with real sand and sell it to the highest bidder.”

"Johanna wouldn't do that," I assured him.

"Well you're not exactly impartial, are you?"

"Maybe not, but one thing to know about me dear Matthew is I'm very good at spotting monsters." I stuck my free hand out into the stream of rain, letting it pool in my palm and run through my fingertips. "And Johanna isn't a monster. She's just seen too much and lost even more."

I could feel Morpheus' eyes watching me and not the raven, but when I looked back up his eyes had shifted. “Well, I wasn’t the best person when I was a person. We can’t all be Jessamy, who was apparently perfect in every way.”

I giggled, earning a look from both of them. “Sorry, it’s just, Jessamy was far from perfect.”

“You knew her too?”

“Kind of.” I said leaning back against the wall. “She never spoke to me, I didn’t even know she could, but we spent a lot of time together.”

“So, what was she like then?” Matthew asked carefully, almost as if he was afraid of the answer.

“She was brilliant,” I began, noticing the sad gleam in the sandman's eyes. “Sly as a fox and fast as the wind in a storm. She also liked to steal my things, ribbons, rocks, anything I’d collected that she took a liking to. Jessamy was also quite a bitch,” I admitted with a laugh. “She was always picking at my hair and clothes and swooping down to scare me.”

Matthew sighed. “She sounds nice.”

“She was.” I said. “But, she was just like you. Not better or worse.”

Morpheus looked at the bird with a sigh. “Matthew I-”

“I get that you don’t think you need a raven, but if you’re out here, waiting for human beings to help anyone but themselves you’re gonna be sitting out here in the rain forever. Whatever they’re doing up there, they’re not thinking about you.”

“Oh they sure aren't,” I chuckled.

“What’s funny?”

“Dear Matthew, I’m willing to bet they’re up there tearing each other's clothes off.”

“No way!” He cawed. “They’re definitely planning a doublecross.”

I looked down at him and smiled. “You want to bet on it?”

“I’m a raven, I don’t really have anything to bet.”

“True.”

“How about this, the loser buys the winner the meal of their choice.”

I cocked a brow at him. “Do you have a wallet hidden in those feathers?”

He shook his head slightly. “No, but I do have the tall guy.”

Looking up at Morpheus’ unimpressed stare I pressed my bottom lip out slightly, pouting. “Please, O great dream god!”

"I'm not a god." His voice was stiff. "I am one of the Endless."

"The Endless. Sounds very ominous.”

"The Endless are beings of great power that maintain the order of this world. Myself and my siblings," he explained.

I hummed thoughtfully. "You don't sound too fond of them."

He sent me a look. "There are a few that are... Troublesome."

"Just like in any family I suppose." I smiled. "How many are there?"

“More than enough.”

I shrugged. “Okay, well then, O great Dream of the Endless, will you please agree to the terms of our bet?”

He glanced down at the raven then back at me. “Very well.”

“Okay then, let's go. Prepare to lose, raven boy.” I said standing next to the door and hitting the buzzer. Nothing. I looked over at Morpheus whose face had turned sour. ��That’s not good is it?”

“No, it is not.”

***

Upon finding Constantine in the hall Dream knew the only thing capable of this was none other than the sand they were here to retrieve. He stood back and watched Penelope as she attempted to soothe the dazed woman. With watering eyes Constantine glared at him. “What did you do to me?”

“It was the sand.” He was unsure of how to prepare her for what no doubt lay beyond the door of the bedroom.

“Where’s Rachel?” His jaw clenched, an act that only seemed to spur her into action. She pushed past Penelope and opened the bedroom door. “Rachel? Rach?��

“Jo? Jo, is that you?” The weak reply barely made it to the door as he followed in after the two women. “That’s such a wonderful dream.”

There, lying in the bed with hollow cheeks and skin clinging to bone, decaying in the bed of pillows was Constantine’s ex lover. She was barely clinging to life just as she clung to the pouch in her decrepit hand. He moved slowly, not wanting to disturb the unsettled quiet that had filled the room. Penelope stayed by the door, watching Johanna with a sorrowful gaze as her friend looked up to him. “What’s happened to her?”

“It was not meant for humans,” he said simply as he pulled the bag from her hand.

“No! Wait, please. It hurts,” She groaned.

He turned away, heading towards the door with a steeled expression. “We can go.”

“What?” Johanna demanded. “What we can’t go, we can’t leave her like this.”

It was Penelope’s eyes that he met as he spoke. “We can’t help her. The sand was the only thing keeping her alive.”

He could feel Constantine behind him, could feel her anger as she began speaking, but he didn’t care. All he saw was the sorrow in Penelope’s eyes, sorrow that he’d seen before so many times he’d lost count. But this time was different. This time he had no one to be angry with but himself. He had been responsible for this in some way, hadn’t he? He had been the reason the sand found its way into the mortals' hands, whether it was unintended or not it didn’t matter, not to him.

So he turned and gave Constantine a command, “Wait outside.”

He watched the woman apologize to her dying lover, watched her press a kiss to her forehead, an act that spurred his own memory of the goodbye he’d once thought was forever. And then, without a word to anyone Constantine left. He watched her go, eyes settling on Penelope for a moment before he spoke. “You should go with her.”

Facing the dying woman whom he had, unknowingly, put there he waited for the door to close behind her. It didn’t. Instead she moved closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside Rachel Moodie, taking her frail hand and holding it close. She looked up at him when he didn’t move and gave him a soft nod. She was staying. Staying beside a woman she didn’t know? Then it hit him.

It wasn’t Rachel Moodie she was staying for, not really. And so he opened the pouch, grabbing a small handful of sand and sprinkled it over Rachel Moodie. The sand fell across her face, but some of it swirled in the air drifting towards Penelope and circling over her. As the life faded from Rachel the sand retreated and settled once again. Penelope pressed a soft kiss to the woman's hand and gently set it beside her as she fell into her final slumber.

***

Johanna leaned against the wall, staring out at the rain as Morpheus and I came down. He stayed behind, giving the two of us space to talk while he spoke with Matthew. She didn't look at me when she spoke. "Was it quick?"

"Yes. She died dreaming of you," I replied, recalling the beautiful sun filled vision.

Her jaw clenched. "I didn't deserve her."

Standing beside her, shoulders touching, I shrugged. "Maybe not, maybe no one deserves anybody, but she loved you all the same and I know you loved her too."

As Morpheus drifted closer I moved out of the way so the two could speak alone. I'd hoped Johanna would be less hard on him than she had been upstairs, but the wound was fresh, and Johanna didn't deal with loss as tactfully as others. I knelt down to Matthew and sighed. "In light of recent events I think we should call off our bet."

"Yeah, seems kind of in bad taste, all things considered."

"Next time I'll beat you though," I assured him.

He laughed. "Not a chance Penny."

"Penny?" I asked with a smile.

"Yeah, cause you're all shiny!"

"I'm shiny?"

"Yeah, at least in these raven eyes of mine you are." He looked at me, as if double checking. "You got a very nice… Glow… Thing going."

"Well that's weird," I replied. "But that's kind of just been the new normal for me I guess. It's a nice nickname. I don't think anyone's called me that before."

He took a tiny bow. "I am a raven of many talents!"

When I stood back up and dusted off the dirt Johanna and Morpheus both looked away from me. Her attention turned to the little raven as she instructed him to take care of his master then she unfurled her umbrella and stepped into the rain. "You comin Pen?"

"I'll catch up with you later," I told her, settling into the spot she'd vacated.

"Be safe," she called as she hurried off to the cab.

"How'd she take it?" I asked.

"Better than most."

I nodded. "Yeah, she's had her share of this shit. She'll deal with it, in her own way."

"How are you?" He asked softly.

"I'm alright." I shrugged. "I've gotten used to being surrounded by death."

"I suppose you have."

With a short glance at one another I asked, "I'm still perfectly fine with the whole later talk we need to have after you've got your tools back, but I have to know… did this," I gestured to my arm. "Did it keep me from dying that day?"

"No." He looked out at the rain and shook his head. "I am not even certain I have the answer as to how you survived. I'm just… I am glad you did."

I stepped towards him. "Oh? Would you have missed me?"

A pulse, strong and steady hummed between us. "More than you know."

I blushed. "You probably say that to all your friends." Friends. The word felt entirely too plain.

"I am Dream of the Endless, I do not have friends," he said lowly.

"Everyone needs a friend, Dream." I replied. "Is that not what we are?"

The blue of his eyes darkened. "I do not think that friends is a strong enough word to describe what we are."

"Best friends?" I whispered in a light teasing tone.

"Something like that," he said with mischief in his eyes.

"Well, best friend," I said. "Good luck getting your stuff back."

He looked out at the rain. "Are you intending to wait until the downpour ends?"

"And miss the rain?" I stepped out under the cold shower and smiled at him. "Never!"

"Goodbye, Penelope."

"Goodbye, Morpheus. I look forward to later!"

I danced through the rain all the way to the road, feeling his eyes on me every step until I faded from his view, where I called a cab to get me back to the apartment. Soaking wet footsteps trailed behind me as I walked through the door and got onto the elevator. A minute passed brfore the lights flickered and flashed for a seconds before the elevator stopped entirely. Soon the power cut out, flooding the pitch blackness of the elevator with red. "Great," I grumbled.

The pungent tang of sulfur burnt my nose and a wave of freezing dread filled me. In the distorted reflection of the elevator doors a shadow rose, twisted and deformed. A long gnarled hand reached towards me and then it fell like a pool of water, gone, at least from my sight.

Heart pounding I turned, checking every reflective surface, looking up the ground beneath my feet was nothing but bubbling darkness and my stomach dropped. "Fuc-"

Claws dug into my leg, pulling me down into the darkness before the scream could even form in my throat. I thrashed and clawed trying to find some kind of grip as whatever had grabbed me dragged me through whatever portal it had been capable of opening up. Sharp rocks sliced my arms and hands and dust... No, ash filled my nose.

The claws released me, dropping me into a straight plummet down. I fell for less than a minute before my body slammed into a cold smooth floor of black. On the ground, over my gasping and disoriented form, the shadow of two large wings unfurled. Every inch of me wanted to curl into itself, every instinct I had told me to run, to get as far away from here as I could.

"Well well, what have we here? A guest in hell?"

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studiojeon · 3 years ago

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bitterness in goodbye | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. sadly, you can't read this as a stand alone (meaning: feel free to check the previous parts ♡)

| summary | - You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.

warnings: none (?) i mean chaeryeong insults jungkook which is an atrocity in itself but-

contents: we diving into the angst my friends. jungkook is an innocent, kind hearted soul, i promise. oc's got the feels (out oct. 1) for jk. idol!jungkook × student!reader.

author's note: I EDITTED THIS FROM MY PHONE DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW FUCKING ANNOYING THAT IS? also, thank u for the amount of support i've been receiving lately, i appreciate everyone lots. feel free to ask away or suggest anything btw, i would love to write for any prompts you guys come up with. 💞💗💖💘💓💕

words: 1.57k

playlist: honey by halsey

Four weeks later, the receptionist of your apartment complex hands you over a cardboard box with the hoodie Jungkook and you had talked about that day on the Han River. Jungkook kept pestering you to please please please send him your address for confidential purposes, which you knew had to do with his determination to literally provide anything that catches your eye right away. You assumed it was a sensitive topic for the boy whether people had purposefully taken advantage of his money before, so you didn’t dare to say anything when the man asked you for your size literally two hours after he dropped you off, scared to either reject his solidare intentions or piss him off for bringing unwanted memories back. In your defense, your personality type keeps oscillating between INFP and INFJ so it’s only natural that you take extra care to make sure those around you have as much peace of mind as possible in your presence.

As pretty and comfortable the piece of soft clothing is, an important factor is missing, something that you can’t recreate buying two of the same size and color, and that is Jungkook's escence and how good it looks on him in comparison to anyone else in the world. Meaning, you didn’t like it as much as you thought initially would. And it absolutely did not have to do with the fact that your short stature made you look like a toddler who stole their dad’s jacket.

Still, in order to show Jungkook how much you appreciate his gift, you bring it to work the next day, and the rest of the days after that, with the excuse that with winter rolling around you needed something to keep you warm in the office. Jungkook doesn’t miss the opportunity to confirm your assumptions regarding your appearance whenever he barges into your office randomly throughout the week, arguing that ”you look so adorable” and doesn’t stop for two weeks more, until he gets used to seeing you wearing something you shared with him. Which doesn’t help ease your growing romantic feelings for him whatsoever.

Because yeah, you liked Jeon Jungkook, just like every human being with eyes and sexual desires, except, you didn’t just like him in a superficial way, and that’s where the problem with him resides. Though you are sure everyone has fallen in love with the endearing boy at some point - especially the excluded and invalidated women of society - you can’t help but place some blame on you for allowing yourself to be swooned so goddamn easily. Your mom had said to you at some point to be wary of the way some men would talk to you when you grew up, their intention usually being getting inside your pants, which has happened to you more times than you'd like to admit. And with the argument that she knew you better than anyone, she claimed you would comply right the second someone talked sweet to you; you despised the fact that was the case with Jungkook (and Jungkook only), although he had never shown any sexual innuendos. What your feelings could do to your relationship with Jungkook and your rather chill lifestyle scared you to death, shiver me timbers and all that shit, having romantic feelings for someone else is embarrassing, especially when your chance with them has been scratched out the second you laid eyes on them.

Jungkook sits on your couch, legs spread on your thighs as you two pretend to watch some series on netflix. “I don’t buy for a second the act you’re putting on right now.” he speaks randomly after staring at your deep-in-thought state for a few minutes and laughs when you snap at him for not letting you overthink in peace. “What’s going on?”

Truth is, you don’t fucking know. A few hours before he arrived at your place (you had to pick him up at the dorm and sneak the both of you through the subterranean parking lot, because god forbid someone saw Jungkook arriving at some chick’s dorm on a saturday afternoon) you swore you would be able to conceal whatever emotional turmoil you had going inside of you without compromising your regular behaviour around the man, but when push comes to shove, it’s impossible to keep yourself from wondering how far you could go before that special someone found out what was going on inside of your head.

Jungkook’s phone rings in his pocket with some annoying tone he had downloaded illegally from youtube the same day the company had handed over the device as a gift for him (you still were a little bitter over how they neglected the rest of the staff but you also knew it was kind of impossible for the human kind to just gift a-thousand-dollar-phones to almost five hundred people out of solidarity). “Hyung?” he picks up, still wary of your unusual behaviour, concerned eyes looking at you. “No, uh- i’m with Yugyeom right now.” and your heart shatters into a million pieces.

You have been suspecting for a while that Jungkook is being hesitant to introduce you to his social circle. Although, you’ve tried your best not to take it personal, it is getting harder to resist the urge to ask him what the fuck is up with that. The fact that Jungkook had to lie about the person he was hanging out with broke your ego; he could’ve just said he was with a friend, right? You suddenly feel like you’re fifteen again, when the guy you liked would love you in the dark but pretend he didn’t know you in the light.

Holding your tears back, you gently push him off and make your way towards the bathroom in the most nonchalant way you could. This is your fault for falling for the nice popular guy in the first place, you remind the reflection staring back at you. Still, as bad as it hurt, there was no way you were going to cry over a stupid boy, let alone when he was literally sat on the next room. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he can just toss this behind as if nothing ever happened.

You text Chaeryeong instead.

“chaery bom bom: i swear to god i gonna throw hands the next time i see the bitch.

chaery bom bom: like who the hell does he think he is? fucking squidward looking asshole.

chaery bom bom: he ain’t even that cute bub, you’ll get over him. i know jinyoung wouldn’t treat you like this”

You sigh. Chaeryeong has been enamored with the idea of you and his former company colleague from GOT7 since the day she met the guy (which was somewhere around ten years ago), and although he was all that, you didn’t like his quiet and cold aura, it intimidated the fuck out of you (Jungkook was the entire opposite of that).

You spray on some perfume just to have an excuse as to why you randomly ran to the bathroom when Jungkook’s inquiring eyes stare as you sit back on the couch, which is exactly what he does. “You done with your call?” you ask, bitter.

Jungkook frowns, a bit taken aback by the sudden question but still unaware of the way his words had made you feel, not even sensing the hostile change in your mood. “Yes, it was one of our managers. He was wondering if I could come back to reshoot some...-thing.”

Okay, now you kind of understand as to why he lied in the first place and to say you feel guilty is an understatement. “I supposed he backed down once you mentioned you were hanging out with Yugyeom.” playfulness makes its appearance on your tone and Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, tongue poking on the inside of his slightly red cheeks.

“Sorry for that” he moves closer and cuddles your arm, like a sad guilty puppy. “It’s just- I don’t want them asking questions''.

You understand. He is a very reserved and private person after all. It took you a bit to crack him open yourself. Plus, you kind of share that trait with him, you’d hate it too if people were constantly on your nerves for the people you decide to hang out with.

And that’s all it takes to forgive him. Not very cash money of you.

“You better not pull that shit again, though” you shift in his hold and he looks up at you. One look into your eyes and he knows what you mean. “I’ll kick you out.”

After nodding, Jungkook resumes his concentration on the series you picked out for him. Due to your short attention span, you are very picky about what you invest your time in, especifically with audiovisual pieces of media, so Jungkook trusts you whenever you recommend something on very rare occasions. As a matter of fact, Jungkook was busy attacking your kitchen counters for snacks (which you didn’t have) when you mentioned Money Heist. “Munch on some grapes instead” you suggested to soothe his disappointment.

You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.

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thisbeatchachinglikemoney · 3 years ago

Text

Just One Day

Part 11 of the Boys with Luv series

Pairing: Reader x BTS, BTS x BTS

Summary: Someone from her past comes back

Warnings: Physical abuse, mental abuse, rape, swearing, kidnapping, hostage situation, suicidal thoughts

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @fic-recs-by-moon, @luvtaeha, @aretha170, @xicanacorpse, @kookieebangtan, @fangirl125reader, @seoul9711, @channiespup , @lindsayjoy444, @fairygirl18, @black-rose-29, @bts-ot7-for-life, @meowmeowyoongles

AN: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and what you think of the series so far :) I purple you guys! Also, happy FESTA!!

Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS ARE GOING TO GET QUITE DARK SO IF YOU GET TRIGGERED BY ANY OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION OR DON’T READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE

Jungkook stretched and hummed in his chair as he saved the last copy of the song he was working on, his shirt riding up, exposing his stomach to the air conditioning that was circulating crisp, cold air around the room. He preferred his studio to be quite cold while he was working late as it would keep him awake, to the point where he would lose track of time and would only go home because one of his hyungs told him to either by calling him incessantly until he picked up or actually dragging him out of his studio.

He grabbed his bag from the couch behind him and began packing everything up quickly, wanting nothing more than to cuddle with Y/N and love her with everything he had. He grabbed her phone and glanced at the time. It was just past midnight. His gorgeous girl had left just under two hours ago and he felt bad because he had promised he would be an hour at the most. He made sure everything was properly turned off and logged out. He pushed his chair back under his desk with his foot before moving out of the studio and locking the door behind him.

He knew that when he got home everyone would be asleep. They normally stayed up until everyone was home, but if Y/N had told the others that he was close behind then they would have gone to bed, knowing that he would be back soon. He said a quick goodbye to the night guards before moving into the parking lot and getting into his car.

He drove quickly but carefully back. The streets of Seoul were quite quiet since it was the middle of the night, but it was something Jungkook found quite relaxing. He loved the glimmering of the streetlights and neon shop lights against the dark sky. There were no stars tonight - it was too cloudy, but Seoul made up for that, the lights on the tips of the skyscrapers becoming artificial stars. He wanted to take Y/N out for a date like this, driving through Seoul and then eating junk food on the hood of his car somewhere secluded while looking at the sky and scenery, enjoying each other’s presence. He would do that with her soon, when his schedule wasn’t as hectic.

He pulled into the underground parking lot of the group’s flat and jogged to their apartment, not being able to keep away from his gorgeous girl any longer. He needed her in his arms.

He unlocked the door and toed off his shoes, instantly being met with the sight of his hyungs sat together in the living room and no Y/N in sight.

“Where the hell have you been?” Yoongi asked, getting up and embracing the boy before taking hold of his ear and twisting it. Jungkook yelped in pain.

“I was in the Golden Closet. Didn’t Y/N tell you?” Jungkook moved to cup his ear to help with the pain but Yoongi stopped his hand. “Speaking of, where is my gorgeous girl?”

“We thought she was with you, Kook.” Hoseok replied.

“But she left before me, like two hours ago. Sejin-ssi picked her up. She said she would come straight here, hyung.” Jungkook explained, biting at his thumb nervously. His head was instantly filled with negative thoughts. Which if their car had been hijacked by saesangs? What if they had been in an accident?

“Jungkook!” Yoongi yelled, getting his attention. “I asked you a question?”

“I’m sorry, hyung, I didn’t hear you, can you please repeat it?” Jungkook took a shaky breath, feeling himself on the verge of a panic attack.

“I said are you sure Sejin-ssi picked her up?” Yoongi repeated himself.

“I don’t know, I think so. He did text me saying he had got her.” Jungkook collapsed on one of the sofas, holding his head in his hands. “Hyung, what if they got in an accident? What if a saesang intercepted the car?”

“Hey, hey, Yoongi hyung, calm down, you’re scaring him.” Namjoon said, putting his hands on the older’s shoulders and sitting him down. “Okay, now, Kook you need to calm down, okay? Don’t panic.” He noticed the maknae’s breathing speeding up and tears streaming down his face.

“I should have left with her when she said she was tired. I shouldn’t have stayed later. I just wanted to finish the song. It was me who suggested it.” Namjoon sighed and sat down, pulling the younger boy onto his lap.

“How about we call her? It’s most likely that she asked Sejin to stop for ice cream or something like that. You know how much of a sweet tooth she has.” Namjoon suggested, rubbing the maknae’s back to calm him down. He hated seeing him this upset.

“We can’t call her. She left her phone.” Jungkook said. “I should have followed her. I should have chased after her and given it to her when I realised she had left it. I’m a terrible boyfriend.” More tears poured down his face, his doll-like lips becoming pouted.

“Hey, no, you aren’t. We’ll just call Sejin, okay.” Namjoon reassured him. “Jungkook, you are not a terrible boyfriend. You are amazing. She loves you so much.” Namjoon looked over to the rest of the members. “One of you call Sejin-ssi. I’m going to get Kookie some comfortable clothes and then try and calm him down, okay?”

“I’ll call him.” Jimin volunteered, pulling out his phone. He tapped a few things on the screen and put the call on speaker. The ringing tone filled the room for a few moments before someone picked up. “Sejin-ssi?”

It was silent before someone spoke. Someone who was definitely not Sejin. “Hmm, no, how about you try again?” The person replied, making Jimin look up at his hyungs with wide eyes.

“Who is this? Why do you have Sejin’s phone?” Yoongi asked, his voice firm and serious. There was a chuckle from the other end of the phone and a noise that sounded like a whimper of pain.

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about me. I used to be her one and only and know she walks around acting like a little whore with not one but seven men and I need to correct that.” The man sounded menacing. Jungkook gulped and looked at Yoongi, his doe eyes full of fear. Yoongi looked like he was ready to murder someone, and Jungkook knew that he was going to take the main brunt of his anger.

“Jackson?” Yoongi had no emotion in his voice. This happened when he was really scared or really angry. It was like his body shut down any way he could be seen as weak.

“Jackson stop! Please!” They heard you beg. Jungkook bit his lip, not wanting to hear his girlfriend being hurt and not being able to do anything about it.

“I never said you could speak, stupid bitch.” There was a slap and a stifled shout. “Wish I could speak longer but I have some things to do.”

“Wait, jagiya, we’re coming to find you. We’re not giving up on you. We love you.” Yoongi shouted just before the call was ended. There was a beep. Jimin shouted in frustration and threw his phone across the room.

“This is all my fault.” Jungkook whispered to himself.

“Damn right it is!” Yoongi shouted, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up. “Why would you not go with her? How could you let her go by herself! What the actual fuck, Jungkook!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think-”

“You never do! You only do what you want to do! You’re so selfish, Jeon Jungkook!” Yoongi was seething. Jungkook gulped. “Your sorry doesn’t fix anything! She is gone! She is back with that pathetic excuse for a man and is probably not going to make it! You know what she told me? If she was ever with Jackson again, she was going to kill herself! So tell me, Jungkook, what are you going to do? You’ve sent her down the river to her death! Because of you, she’s going to die!”

“Hyung!” Namjoon yelled, making Yoongi drop Jungkook. The maknae skittered away. There was a slam and then silence. “What the hell are you doing? You know how sensitive he is!” Namjoon was angry.

“Jackson has her, Joon. He intercepted Sejin and kidnapped her. He was beating her on the phone.” Yoongi’s voice was shaky. “And it’s all Jungkook’s fault. He should have left with her. He knows that Jackson is out there!”

“How the hell would Jungkook have known Jackson would have the balls to do something like this?” Namjoon asked with an edge to his voice. “He called Sejin to make sure she wasn’t walking home by herself! If he really didn’t care about her, he would have let her make her own way home.”

“If he cared about her, he would have taken her home himself!” Yoongi wasn’t having any of it. In his eyes, Jungkook was at fault here.

“Look, you’re angry and scared. We all are. But that does not give us the right to argue with each other. We need to stick together if we want to get her back.” Namjoon said, remaining calm. He had to. If he fell apart, they all fell apart. “You need to go and cool off. Go to your room and calm yourself down, and then you need to apologise to Jungkook. You’re his hyung, Yoon, and he needs you right now.”

Yoongi looked at his younger member and sighed. Namjoon was right. They couldn’t afford to be arguing with each other. It would make everything a whole lot worse.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Yoongi’s voice was quiet.

“Come on, hyungie. I think you need some Jiminie cuddles.” A small hand took his and pulled him up to his room. “Namjoon hyung, can you call the police, please.” Namjoon pointed to his phone and nodded.

Jimin lay down on Yoongi’s bed and opened his arms. “I’m the big spoon this time.” He said. Yoongi nodded and climbed onto the bed, settling into Jimin’s arms. It was then he allowed the wall to come down and dissolved into tears.

“She said she was going to kill herself, Min.” Yoongi sobbed. “She said she wouldn’t be able to handle being with him for any longer. I don’t. I can’t deal with losing her. I won’t be able to deal with losing her.”

“It will be okay, hyung. Joonie hyung is on the phone with the police now and since he has Sejin’s phone, they will be able to track it and see where they are. PD-nim had a tracker installed into the phone that can’t be turned off in case Sejin ever got kidnapped or we did. They’ll find her.”

“Yes, but if they find her, will they actually find her, or will she just be the shell of herself?” Yoongi said, resting the side of his head on Jimin’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

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

Silence. Darkness. Pain.

The never ending cycle that Y/N was going through. Whatever Jackson had used to knock her out had caused the worse headache. It throbbed, each wave of pain being stronger than the last. She winced as she came around.

Her eyes felt like they were glued together. She tried to open them, but failed. Her eyelids felt too heavy. She also knew that if she opened them she would be faced with the impending doomed reality she was forced to deal with. The reality where she was back with Jackson and had been ripped away from her happy life with her boys.

It was then the most horrible thought flashed through her mind. What if it had all been a dream? What if she had made it all up? Those months where all her fear for Jackson had fizzled out, thinking she was safe? It was a false sense of security. In what world would BTS, the biggest boygroup in the world, be her soulmates? In what world would she deserve seven soulmates? There would only be one way to test if it was real. She had to open her eyes and see if everything was greyscale or full color.

She tried to open her eyes again, but failed. Had he glued her eyes shut? She reached up and felt along her eyelashes. It was crusty but it wasn’t sticky. She pried open her eyelids, pulling them apart with her fingers. She hissed slightly.

Her eyelids were unstuck now, but she didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want to open them if the past months had just been a dream. Just open them Y/N, she thought to herself, just open them. You never know.

“Please don’t be grey. Please don’t be grey.” She whispered to herself, gingerly opening her eyes.

She looked around, realising that she was back in that bedroom. Her mother’s lamp was still on the bedside table, although there was a small dark brown stain on it now. Dark brown. That was a color. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least one thing was going well.

“Look who’s up.” A voice drawled. She looked over to the door and saw Jackson lounging against the frame, a belt idly swinging between his fingers. She gulped.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” She glared at him, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her head.

“Because I love you and you love me.” Jackson shrugged. “You belong with me, not with them.”

“I don’t love you, Jackson. I haven’t for a long while.” She spat.

Jackson gasped animatedly. “Someone has some nerve talking to me like that. Where are your manners? Guess I need to teach you again. Kneel and face the bed.”

Y/N ignored him, trying to stand up to him and show him that she wasn’t weak anymore and that she knew her worth and wasn’t scared of him. He slapped the belt across her face. Thankfully he was holding the buckle, but the impact still hurt. She cried out as he pulled her up by her hair and forced her into a kneeling position.

“Listen to me, stupid bitch.” He hit her harshly with the belt. “Just a few months away from me and all your training is gone. Looks like I’ll just have to be harsher with you.” He added a few more hits before throwing his belt somewhere else in the room. “Get on the bed.” He pulled her up by her hair, making her hiss in pain. “Now if you make a sound, I will make this so much worse for you.” He threatened.

Y/N gulped and nodded, allowing him to force her into a position on the bed. Her back and shoulders hurt so much. He forced her onto her hands and knees. He groaned. “Now that is a sight I have missed.” He rubbed his hands over her ass.

Y/N’s heartbeat sped up and her breathing quickened. Was he about to rape her? She tried to move away from him, but he grabbed onto her hips. “Stop!” He shouted, hitting her back over one of the open wounds from his belt. She cried out and crumpled forwards. He pressed his hips against her. “See how much I’ve missed you.” He was hard against her. She didn’t want this.

“Get away from me. Don’t. Please don’t.”

“I said no talking!” A harsh smack to her inner thigh followed before he ripped off her panties. She silently scolded herself for wearing a skirt. If she had been wearing jeans she would have been able to fight against this better. She would have had more time. She sobbed as she heard him push his jeans down. Before he could do anything to her, a phone started ringing.

“Fuck sake.” He groaned, answering it as he stroked over her lower back and thighs.

“Sejin-ssi?” It was Jimin. Y/N felt some relief flood through her body. She knew that Sejin had an unremovable tracker built into his phone that could not be switched off and she knew Jackson had no knowledge of it. Jackson dug his nails into her skin before he spoke.

“Hmm, no, how about you try again?” Jackson smirked, knowing he had full power here.

“Who is this? Why do you have Sejin’s phone?” Yoongi sounded angry. Y/N knew that he was not going to rest until he found her.

Jackson set the phone down and whispered into Y/N’s ear. “If you say one thing, I will kill you.” He threatened. “Now, shut up and be good.” He chuckled as he picked up the phone, pushing into the poor girl. She whimpered, the dry friction hurting her.

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about me. I used to be her one and only and know she walks around acting like a little whore with not one but seven men and I need to correct that.” Jackson rolled his hips against her, making her bury her head and cry. She didn’t know if they could hear her.

“Jackson?” Yoongi figured it out, but Y/N had just switched off. She hated this. She wanted out.

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.” Jackson said snarkily. “I didn’t think your boyfriends were this dumb, but maybe they were in order to actually fall in love with someone like you.” He reached down and grabbed his belt again. “Maybe you lured them in like the little slut you are. Desperate for attention and sex.” He brought the leather down against her skin, this time not holding the buckle. She felt the metal tear open her skin, leaving fresh wounds that would sometimes go over the ones he had already done. It hurt so much. Y/N just wanted it to be over. She couldn’t do this again. He hit her again, making her scream out in pain.

“Jackson, stop! Please!” She yelled, her hands curling in the sheets to relieve some of the pain.

“I never said you could speak, stupid bitch.” Jackson slapped her before grabbing his belt and wrapping it around her neck tightly. She could feel her air supply being cut off. She released a stifled scream, clawing at the leather around her neck. “Wish I could speak longer but I have some things to do.” He said into the phone.

Before he could hang up, Y/N heard Yoongi talking directly to her. “Wait, jagiya, we’re coming to find you. We’re not giving up on you. We love you.”

“Yoongi! I love you all too!” She yelled but Jackson had cut the call.

“Now... where were we?” He sounded menacing. Y/N sobbed as she felt him begin to move.

But now she had that small glimmer of hope that they would be able to find her. One day she would be out of here and she held onto that. For them.

#sub!reader #sub!taehyung #sub!jimin #sub!jungkook #switch!jin #dom!hoseok #dom!namjoon #dom!yoongi #bts ot7 #bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #boys with luv #soulmate au #just one day

141 notes · View notes

mde1011 · 3 years ago

Text

when i got into the dsmp i started a note and wrote down any quotes or moments i thought were funny, and im bored at 3 am so enjoy some of them

how is being arrested real? just walk away!!!”

⁃ “once an american always an american. go...go protests masks...or something”

⁃ “...yEAH BUT DID YOU HAVE WAP” “what’s...whats wap?” “...WORSHIP AND PRAYER”

⁃ “HOW DO YOU LIKE POLITICS MOTHERFUCKER”

⁃ “i’m naked” “...no you’re not” “i can be...”

⁃ “uhhhh i’m in a high stress situation....i deal with these poorly”

⁃ “i should go first i’m naked”

⁃ “yEAHHHH WE KILLED AN OLD MAN WITH HEART PROBLEMS”

⁃ “what are you going to do?” “i...have no idea i think i’m gonna start out by punching a tree”

⁃ “tOmmy...did i just hear you say shit ass looking mofo?”

⁃ “i aM gOinG to gEt nAkeD to iNtiMidAtE HiM”

- “...i want freedom !” “you want BALLS.”

⁃ “...down the line. yeah that’s where we discover the art of cannibalism” “oh it’s an art?” “it’s an art”

⁃ “oh there’s some logs here. wonder what they’re saying to me. uh huh. uh huh. oh yeah that’s very racist” “tommy you gotta burn those logs.” “burn ‘em before they spread their racism to other logs”

⁃ “are you pooing?” “*whisper* i’m charging up-““ “he’s ejaculating on the tent.” “he’s WHAT?”

⁃ “he’s sPEEDING. LOOK HOW FAST HES GOING” “i’ve taken so many drugs. someone tell badboyhalo”

⁃ “we should make a pact. and that pact is, uh, we make a book...and in that book...we declare that saying ‘muffin’ is a, is a slur”

⁃ “i was thinking what if one day your bladder just,,,,stopped working.....AGGGFFFFF i was tHINKING ABOUT THAT THE OTHER DAY IVE GOT TO PREPARE IVE GOT YO PREPARE thisiswhydiapersaintthatbad”

⁃ <sapnap> i think i was ordered to um

<tommyinnit> boobed

<sapnap> kill you

<tommyinnit> boobs

<sapnap> if this happens

<tommyinnit> think about boobs man

<sapnap> tsk tsk tommy

<tommyinnit> iM DISGRUNTLED

⁃ “why is this deadman so good at making drugs”

⁃ “i just learnt that a girl hero is called a heroine and it freaked me out”

⁃ “memento memento me-“ “that’s actually the worst word i know so you can’t keep saying that” “oh, really.....? have you ever heard the term ‘racist’?”

⁃ “the person who invented the phrase ‘be yourself’ hadn’t met you!”

⁃ “you seem like the type of guy whose dad would throw him overboard as a joke but he would just drown”

⁃ “shout out to dream for twerking!”

⁃ “let’s talk......let’s talk about sex” “wonderful. what do you think about sex, lazarbeam?” “i ain’t saying SHIT in front of a sixteen year old”

⁃ “what the- i think i’m seeing things” “....tommy i told you not to drink the sea water” “well i DID drink the sea water because it TOLD ME TO”

⁃ “it’s like the movie when that guy gets stranded on an island and has sex with a coconut” “whAT?? dream- dream, you vastly misinterpreted this” “it one hundred percent does”

⁃ “oh mastICATE.....isn’t that when a fish turns inside out?”

⁃ “what are some bad words YOU know, clay?” “i don’t-“ “what about ‘terrorist’?”

⁃ “my mind has to be on the same frequency as jesus when he walked on water”

⁃ “you wanna know why i was late?” “no i really do-“ “i was having a MASSIVE poo. really just a HUGE poo”

⁃ “jUST CUZ YOU TALK ABOUT POO ONCE AND THEN YOU SEE A BIG GREEN BASTARD AMD YOUR LIFE IS FLASHING BEFORE YOUR EYES AND THEN YOU CANT REMEMBER- YOU CANT REMEMBER IF IT WAS YESTERDAY OR TOMORROW YOU HURT THAT WOMAN”

⁃ “i love america. mmmmm patriotism

⁃ “LIFE IS NOT A HAPPY SONG KERMIT THE FROG”

⁃ “please stop taking the cock”

⁃ “two four six eight who do we appreciate? not the government let’s gooooooo”

⁃ “oooo look at the dogs😍” “wHAAAAAT. WHAT. THERES ACTUALLY LIKE. A MILLION DOGS HERE. WHAT THE HELL.”

⁃ “yeahhhhh bitch i stab- i don’t stab women-“ “woooooooah tommy you stab women?” “heyyyy sapnap”

⁃ “do you know what happens whne you reach the top of the ladder? there’s only one place to go.” “.....side to side😨” “down.” “...i really thought you were gonna say side to side🥺”

⁃ “one last time.” “just like in hamilton😓”

⁃ “you don’t know how many times i’ve mistaken trees for hot women”

⁃ “ i don’t feel better i just destroyed penis”

⁃ “i’ve never seen a snail with bad morals”

⁃ “awwwwwwww😢 i’m doin’ drugs🤧 just like the good ol’ days😓” “.....define the ‘good old days’” “back when i did drugs”

⁃ “have you ever fought a baby? i have and it was trivially easy to defeat, phil.”

⁃ “the only other i egg i know about was the one i learnt about in school....not allowed to say which one....”

⁃ “did you know one of my new years resolutions is to be more like 2010 justin bieber?”

⁃ “apparently cats don’t lay eggs”

⁃ “thinking about trees- if i saw a tree with a beard mmmmmm...holy shit id hit it”

⁃ “we’re in hell dude. science doesn’t matter here”

⁃ “i cant die i cant die i’m GOD”

⁃ “hey pig your letter is the same as pussy, hmm?”

⁃ “are we cool are we COOL guys? CRYSTAL COOL like CRYSTAL METH”

⁃ “he- he’s crying because - because i killed his mother isn’t that right? mother dearest mother deadest mother gonest”

⁃ “bro ive been drinking since i was six and let me tell you...it’s not good to be drinking that young. led to some poor life decisions when i was 8” “what did you do” “i cant say” “...who did you hurt” “....only myself”

⁃ “je suis” “ay i know what that mean you prick” “what does it mean” “it means you’re racist dickhead”

⁃ “i’d never poo in the presence of a women- which is why i’m scared to get a girlfriend i think i’d just explode”

⁃ “biff tannen is one of my idols”

⁃ “black widow died and i thought ‘wow it should’ve been the man’ because he’s a man”

⁃ “there’s a character called captain america and i think he’s stupid”

⁃ “i’m a GOOD LAD i’ve got GOOD MORALS and if i’ve DONE SOMETHING WRONG it WASNT MY FAULT I JUST GOT A LITTLE EXCITED”

⁃ “sam....what’s the longest you’ve ever wiped your arse? for me it’s 48 minutes”

⁃ “why are you standing in the shitter?” “....that’s a SINK” “uhhh welllll” “hAVE YOU SHAT IN THE SINK?????”

⁃ “you’re like a living ghost” “...i think that’s called a human, tubbo”

⁃ “maybe i accidentally kill ranboo and we just never see him again *laughs* ay? and then i go ‘april foooools!!!’ and then i kill their child. i kill him”

⁃ “you built a penis” “it’s a PENIS OF SAFETY”

⁃ “i saw the penis of safety and i pressed mouse button four my friend”

⁃ “the penis on the other side of the river is larger” “ive heard that before....”

⁃ “you’ve turned the penis into a wall” “a wall of safety is better than a penis of safety” “i think the penis was better”

⁃ “if you wanna make a penis i know where we can make a penis and i know how big we can make it”

⁃ “i don’t conceptualize death but i think i just saw it!”

⁃ “yeah i- yeah i know i’m- my first impression on eret was making him read a shrek fan fiction so- i’m not one for first impressions”

⁃ “i-i’m scared for him- i’m scared OF him. yknow the first thing he did when he saw me was imMEDIATELY strip down then jump off then immediately die?”

⁃ “where are you?” “getting stabbed, one second”

⁃ “you’ve seen the joker?” “yea-“ “i resonate a lot with that man” “...oH. oh. that’s- that’s not-“

⁃ “he bURNT DOWN MY HOUSE” “out of LOVE”

⁃ “ohhhh my god stop making me play with the neighbor kid” “o-okay if you don’t go play with him i’m kicking you out of the house-“ “wHAT THE FUCK???”

⁃ “there’s a STRIP CLUB” “oh yeah for wood!” “are you into strippers?” “i mean all it does is make the wood look different so....yeah it doesn’t really do much”

⁃ “no no we have categories, we have the poo-saster- you might have to take a shower after-“ “no, no i’m gonna stop you right there”

⁃ “as i was saying you can have a 1-to-3 wiper, that’s an A-tier poo, my friend”

⁃ “i want you to eat your sock”

⁃ “you know i’m a child- i’m a minor” “sO AM I DICKHEAD”

⁃ “everyone is calling you dresus” “yeah i am”

⁃ “ayyyy ayyyy los DROGAS LOS DROGAS” “no no big q- she’s thirteen- how does this happen with every 13 year old girl you meet?”

⁃ “my poo has muscles like i do”

⁃ “i cant hear the words among us without crying they’ll say there are aliens among us and in the back youll just hear me *choking noises*”

⁃ “tubbo...tubbo is like...tubbo is like mary” “.....did you just call me the Virgin Mary?”

⁃ “i’m just saying, have you ever seen me and jesus in the same room?”

⁃ “do you smoke sam” “all the time”

⁃ “i thought you were talking about the- the speeeeed drug”

⁃ “have you ever sold drugs to kids sam?�� “......no”

⁃ “we can’t let the girlboss rule because she will gatekeepe my feelings” “that would not be good”

⁃ “THEY DIDNT INVITE ME TO KILL ME???? NOW I HAVE FOMO”

⁃ “you have obviously taken part in scientology-“ “i have not-“ “you’ve donated to tom cruises cult shit”

⁃ “....am i worse than david dobrik?” “are- are we worse than david dobrik?” “oh- oh god”

⁃ “he has broke one of the rules of the hit best seller ‘the bible’- this kind of looks like a cock”

⁃ “well i’ve moved now, KING”

⁃ “what is an angsty teen and am i one? because when i USED to hang out with my friends they use the word angst a lot”

⁃ “yeah yeah yeah i bench”

⁃ “sam i think i’m angsty i think i’m an angsty tik tok teen looking for a community to help me out”

⁃ “i don’t think you’ve followed the train of logic all the way-“ “there’s a TRAIN INVOLVED????????”

⁃ “i’m like the orange fucker from that animated rom com”

⁃ “i’m under the influence of big cock”

⁃ “it’s meeee big cock man”

⁃ “i cant look away” “sam please use your twitter alt for this” “he’s horny on maaaainnnnn” “and what’s wrong with that?” “.......”

⁃ “you’re a FUCKING IDIOT” “IM NOT A FUCKING IDIOT, BIG COCK”

⁃ “i’m gonna call you ‘cockity’ big cock” “sHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP-“

⁃ “STOP LOOKING AT IT” “ITS SO VIBRANT”

⁃ “at least this guy doesn’t have a cock-“ “itS NOT A COCK” “horny on main jesus-“

⁃ “is that a cock” “SHUT THE FUCK UP”

⁃ “.....i wanna see the inside of it again do a split”

⁃ “okay sam-“ “tommy that guy wants your cock-“ “no- no he doesn’t sam”

⁃ “sam, sam and i need you to hear this....dont. act. up.” “i don’t act up-“ “you were acting up-“ “i-“ “you were caught in 8k.” “but- but we both agree it’s not a tie-“

⁃ “please don’t tell me to kill cockity i am overwhelmed”

⁃ “why is there an anus in my tie?”

⁃ “what are the legal implications of this?” “...i mean besides hell you’re good”

⁃ “whatre the legal implications?” “i mean usually that’s a no-no but today, today it’s fine” “yeahhh lets go murder his family”

⁃ “i’d be an antivax landlord”

⁃ “jesus never does drugs” “well- well you turned water into wine king and wine is alcohol”

⁃ “can you put on pants i can’t- i cant stop looking at it- sorry tommy i know you said-“ “yeah sam i know you tried-“

⁃ “you know i fuck with satan”

⁃ “i’m sorry jesus lucifer is just such a good man-“ “oh you- hold me BACK FROM THIS FUCKER HOLD ME BACK ILL SEND HIM TO HELL YOU LIKE HELL-“

⁃ “are you jesus or just a man who grew a beard and put on a suit?”

⁃ “even the guy with his cock out is telling you to stop-“ “oh jesus, and i mean jesus-“ “shUT THE FUCK UP MAN”

⁃ “the best best way to slander him is to stop his offspring; we need to kick him the balls.....no? not a good....? alright us four each take a ball-“

⁃ “......why did jesus give him four scrotums man🙁🙁”

56 notes · View notes

ayamturd · 4 years ago

Text

afraid│nihachu

summary: you wanted to explore the world above, and niki thought it best to bring the trinkets of the world to you

warnings: none, only fluff

pairing: (requested) in-game origins!niki

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long for me to write, i’ve honestly been in the strongest angst mood lately but hopefully did justice to your request! (this was so cute as an idea)

also thank you for my first origin! request, ik the hype has faded at this point but this was still so fun to write and explore :)

wc: (3.1k) - m.list

“You’re staring again.”

“AHHH!” Whipping around, Niki gaped at Wilbur, his amused grin meeting her wide-eyed shock as she placed a hand to her heart, exhaling deep breaths to collect herself.

He was phased through the ground, his neck barely peaking out of the soil until he fully emerged, his body transparent as the sun gleamed through him.

She lifted her head, craning to see whether you noticed the both of them or not from behind the river bend, and smacked Wilbur as hard as she could once realizing they were in the clear.

“What was that for,” Wilbur whined, pouting and simultaneously rubbing his now sore arm. Despite fuming, Niki’s deep glare barely fazed him as he began cackling at how upset she looked.

“Wilbur,” Niki spat out. He paid no attention to her tone and held his stomach in laughter, floating slightly above her. “Oh lighten up, will you?”

He propped his face on his hands, smirking while looking down at her with a teasing voice. “It’s cute.”

She huffed in response, turning away from him with her arms crossed. “Shut up.”

“Awwww Niki,” he cooed. She refused to meet his eyes and stared down, swishing her tail in the water as it reflected on the afternoon sun.

“What do you want?” Wilbur groaned at her lack of play but leaned on his back, tilting his head backwards to see her as he hovered. “You really are no fun.”

As she turned to glare at him again, he giggled but continued to speak. “When are you finally going to talk to them?”

Sputtering at his question, Niki became flustered and tried to argue back, but she struggled with her words. “I do talk to them!”

He gave her a deadpan expression, a look of judgement from her defense as she furrowed her eyebrows in response. “I do!”

Sighing dramatically, Wilbur paid no attention to her pathetic excuse with a smile. His lack of retention angered Niki more. “Wilbur!”

“You are so whipped Niki, it’s adorable.”

Niki pushed herself up and strived to hit him again, though Wilbur was fast enough and raised just out of her reach. Sitting on the bank with her tail still dipped in the water, she grumbled at his antics once more. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hmmm, is that so?”

Niki paused, unsure if it was that obvious for him to point it out in such a manner. She became insecure to the thought, afraid that her small advancements were really that noticeable despite getting her nowhere. Her sudden silence made Wilbur’s smile fade, and he quickly picked up on her self-doubt.

“Don’t do that.” His tone was harshly blunt and broke Niki’s train of thought.

“Do what,” she asked meekly. Glancing up at him through her hair, she looked back down into her lap before turning her head in the direction you were last.

“Be afraid of the truth,” Wilbur stated. Floating down, he met her eye level and peered up at her. His expression, while serious, held a kind smile to encourage her of the fact while his eyes were soft. “You like them, Niki, and you shouldn’t be afraid of saying it.”

She sighed and tried to turn away, but he wasn’t having it and pulled her chin back gently. “Niki.”

“I know, I know.” Niki shook his hand off, shaking her head slightly and pushing his hand away while moving to hold her own arms, the makeshift hug a form of comfort to the idea. “I just- I’ve never had feelings like this like I do for them. It’s all so new.”

“And I understand that, but you shouldn’t be afraid to face something new. This of all things especially. You like them right?”

Although she was hesitant to admit so, she knew that it was true. It was beyond the truth for you made her smile and laugh like no one ever had, your small conversations and light banter always brightening her day and filling her heart with joy. She wasn’t scared to say she liked you, she was scared of saying it out loud and letting reality take its course.

“I do,” she murmured, a small nod following after. “I like them, yes.”

“They make you happy?” Another pause, but she responded more confidently in the smaller time frame than before.

“They do.”

“Then you should find ways to make them happy too!” Wilbur exclaimed. He rose his arms widely and grew excited from her admittance. Floating towards the grass again, he plucked a small flower from the ground and twirled it between his fingers, handing it to Niki after. “Show them how they make you feel because they matter to you and you care.”

“Well how am I supposed to do that?”

“Do what?”

For the second time that day, Niki whirled around and was surprised to see you innocently swimming above the water surface. She was panicked, eyes wide, and turned to look at Wilbur, who coincidently was gone. The bitch.

She faced you again, smile anxiously forced wide as she greeted you.

“Y/n!” You smiled kindly to her, unobservant to her nervousness.

“Hello, Niki!” You swam closer to her and rested an arm against the shore line, your other hand placed on her tail. Her breathing hitched at the small contact, and she relaxed once you began rubbing her scales lightly.

“I saw you talking to Wilbur, how is he?” Glancing back to where he previous floated, Niki scowled in annoyance at the reminder of his sudden departure.

“Fine, I’m sure. Still annoying when he wants to be.” She mumbled the last words, a frown briefly hung on her lips. You giggled helplessly to her small pout with a hand covering your mouth. While obscured by your hand, Niki practically melted from the sound.

“How are you?” you asked after finishing your small fit. Niki blushed uncontrollably from how intense your eyes looked, the light of the sun catching on the hues of your iris; the sight alone was beautiful to her.

“I- I’m alright, I’m great.” Always around you.

“That’s good, I haven’t seen you in a couple of days.” Concerned over the matter of fact, you leaned closer to Niki and absentmindedly stroked her tail again with your thumb, the movement endearing yet almost unconscious. “I was concerned something happened.”

Coughing slightly to gather herself, Niki cleared her throat from her flush while waving a hand upward.

“O-oh, no everything’s okay. I was helping Wilbur with his house yesterday, he was trying to finish the living space but Tommy and Tubbo kept messing things up. Now that I think of it, I was more of a mediator than actual help.”

Chuckling loudly to her engrossed ranting, you interrupted Niki’s explanation and had to hunch over in pain, arms wrapped around your waist while you tail flicked hastily below.

You laughter was contagious, and soon Niki joined in with her own, the sound fading into faint snickering that melded together in an alluring symphony.

Eventually as you both stopped, however, your smile dimmed. Niki’s fell as well once noticing your sudden drop in mood, and she tapped your shoulders from the unexpected shift.

“Y/n?” Niki slid into the water, the cold temperature difference from staying above making her shiver, yet she paid no mind to it, her attention solely on you. “What’s wrong?”

Realizing you let your thoughts show, you tried to pretend nothing happened, smiling dismissively to your previous frown and placing a hand on Niki’s that she held on your shoulder. Your attempts, unfortunately, were futile since your reassurance barely covered for the lack of joy in your eyes. That, and the fact that Niki could read more than you thought.

“It’s nothing really, I’m-” a humorless laughed escaped you as you aimed to convey your feelings. “I’m honestly so jealous of you.”

Niki’s mouth feel agape in disbelief and confusion. “Me?”

Tilting your head back with genuine laughter, you nodded. “Yes, you.”

“I’ve never been able to see the things landers make or do, it’s so intriguing to hear about. I just can’t help but want to see those things beyond this tiny pond.” While you had turned to face Niki, your eyes were trained downward, with a disheartened smile.

Niki immediately tried to cheer you up, hating the idea of anything trivial upsetting you overall. “I could introduce you to my friends if you like? They’re very nice people, no matter how chaotic I make them sound.” It was her turn to be affectionate as she brushed her hand over yours while your tails nearly wrapped around each other.

You gave another sad smile at her attempt, but appreciated her efforts nonetheless. “That’s really sweet, Niki, but I wouldn’t want to meet and burden them simply because of my own ambitions.”

Clinging onto the tips of her fingers, you squeezed them in reassurance. “Thank you, though. Ever the thoughtful you are, huh?”

Despite still hung over your downplayed emotions, Niki reddened from your words. As you looked above Niki at a flock of birds that flew overhead, she was suddenly faced with an idea.

Formulating a plan and envisioning the hopeful outcome, Niki squealed unexpectedly, surprising you. She had no time to apologize, however, for her thoughts were running wild in anticipation. “I’m so sorry, but I actually need to go,” she voiced.

You tried to answer, but through Niki’s blind eagerness, she didn’t hear you. She promptly pushed the fresh flower in your hand in replacement of her own, and wished you a farewell before diving into the water.

With a scratch to your head, you lightly chuckled at how cute she was and lifted the flower up. Staring at the little tulip, you beamed and brought it towards your nose, smelling the aroma and kissing the petals softly.

Waiting impatiently, Niki fiddled with the wet rope of the drawstring pouch. The moon was at high rise, the overcasting ray highlighting the empty landscape as all were asleep or safely tucked home.

The air buzzed from the still night, yet Niki couldn’t help but feel unease despite the calm space. Before she could drive herself mad, you finally emerged from the dark water.

“Good evening to you, Niki,” you joked. Swimming swiftly over to her, you glanced around the both of you and also noted the quiet. “It’s a gorgeous time to be awake.”

Although your words could have been interpreted as sarcastic, you meant anything but with a dazed tone and delighted appearance. Meeting her smile with your own, you spun in the water, taking in the cool breeze while lost in the starry night.

“Not that I don’t love our hang outs, but why so late Niki? If you wanted to go star gazing, you could have said.”

She laughed nervously, tugging on the small pouch in habit before holding it out to you. “No, actually, I- I wanted to give you this.”

Intrigued, you lifted the bag from her hands and held it against you as you opened it, letting out a gasp from the treasures all tucked together. Niki thought it best to explain herself.

“I know you said you didn’t want to burden the idea, but I couldn’t help it and wanted for you to experience those things too, even if it’s only little things.” Gesturing to the bag you held, she pointed to the contents inside despite you lost to the beauty each item held.

“I asked my friends to help gather things I thought you would enjoy. They’re not the most extravagant, but they all have their special charms.”

“Niki…” Your voice was airy, barely above a whisper as you tried to comprehend her thoughtfulness. Too anxious for her own good, Niki continued to ramble.

“My friend Tommy, you know Tommy, he managed to trade for this dagger! The hilt has this small ruby in it if you look closely, but I like to think the whole craftsmanship of it is gorgeous. Oh and he also dumped in these things they use to eat! See this one here,” she dug in the open pouch for the metal utensils, lifting them individually to name them from what she was taught.

“This one is called a ‘spoon,’ while this one is called a ‘fork.’ It’s pointy but isn’t sharp!”

“Niki-” She paid no mind to you and replaced the bag in your hands with the metal objects, her excitement overtaking her apprehension and wanting to explain them all.

“Now Phil, he gifted this lovely pocket watch. It tells the time without needing the sun! If you listen closely, you can hear this ticking noise from the gears that make it work, see?” She pushed the glowing locket near your ear, the soft mechanics working perfectly in motion.

“He also enchanted it so the water won’t hurt it, water usually isn’t the best for their types of machines.” Niki handed you the watch carefully as she continued to talk. “He’s an Elytrian too! Very kind and wise, incredibly considerate.”

“That’s amazing, Niki, bu-”

“Ah, look at this!” Struggling to pull the wooden figurine out through the pouch opening, she yanked it out with a grunt, a smile quickly forming at its shape.

“It’s a duck! Tubbo is so cute and carved him himself, but wanted you to have him!” Holding him out, you grasped the smooth carving firmly with a grin, the animal admittedly adorable despite it’s oddly shaped body. “His name is Benson,” Niki exclaimed proudly.

You giggled fondly, patting the inanimate duck with your hands in spite how full they were. “Hello, Benson.”

“Oh and Ranboo!” Niki cried out. As she searched for his gift, you decided it best to interrupt. Or at least try to.

“Niki, before that, I-” She began to mutter under her breath, frustrated with pulling his object out and distracted to your attempts.

“Niki.”

“How did he even put this in here? It’s so bi-”

“Niki, love.”

Freezing from the endearment, she glanced at you with a sheepish smile. Although your adoring grin said otherwise, Niki was overwhelmed at the thought that she offended you some how. Before she could spew out apologies, you saw her slight panicked and acted quickly.

Cradling all the gifts with one hand, you pulled her forward and kissed her, your hand holding her gently while caressing her cheek. She hummed out a sound of surprise, the noise muffled against your lips.

While she was frozen for a few seconds, once the realization passed she relaxed completely from your touch, pulling you closer if it were humanely possible.

All you both could feel was each other, the warmth that spread throughout your bodies a releasing high that drove passion and unenforced love free. You could have stayed there forever, you felt, just taking Niki in for all that she was, but chose to pull away; you wanted to see her.

Panting from the huge surge of emotions that passed, you both gazed into each other’s eyes in a mix of shock and intimacy never before shared or expressed.

Grabbing her hand, you lifted it to your mouth and pressed your lips firmly to her knuckles. “Thank you, Niki. You’re more than I could ever ask for.”

Unlike her past encounters, Niki didn’t turn away. She embraced your tenderness and accepted the burning warmth that encapsulated her for what it was and finally presented.

She had nothing to hide anymore. She had nothing to fear anymore.

Bonus:

“Wait, what else do you have in the bag?”

You were both sprawled onto a large boulder, the rock perched slightly above the water surface in the middle of the lake. Considering the chill of the night and the cool touch of the stone, you were embraced in each other’s hold, arms strung together with hands intertwined.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Sitting up right, Niki pulled out all the objects in a pile and separated the ones you already saw in comparison to the others. She picked each one up as she explained.

“This is called a tea kettle! I mentioned him before, but Ranboo found it while… digging (she didn’t know how to kindly say playing with dirt). It’s old but called an ‘antique’ because it’s rare!” Handing you the small pot, your finger grazed against the rusted metal in fascination of the discoloring and ancient beauty.

“Now these are sulfur crystals! Jack is from the nether so he collects a lot of them when he finds pure ones.” Lifting one towards the sky, you awed at the color that shined through it, the yellow hue soft yet vibrant under the moonlight glow. Reaching for one gently, you peered through the flat crystal with a giggle.

“They sometimes can smell really bad he said, but as long as we don’t mix it with other things like potions, we should be alright.” You hummed while still gazing through the clear solid.

Enamored with the crystals, your attention was drawn back to Niki when you heard something chime.

“I’m not sure why Wilbur thought it would be a good idea to gift these to us, but he thought it best to give us these things called jingle bells.” Shaking them once more, you were delighted to find they had a joyful-like sound, the light ringing noise something magnificent that you’ve never heard before underwater.

You played with them once Niki gave them to you, your smile wide from the new discovery and breathless to the music it sang.

“Oh I didn’t realize he put one in.”

“Who?” you asked, your eyes still on the small metal balls that reflected the moon in combination to the water surface.

Niki sighed before stating with a smile, “Fragrance Man.”

You paused at the name, and turned towards her confused. “Fragrance Man?”

Nodding softly with an amused chuckle, Niki revealed the final item to you. It was a glass bottle, one typically used for potions, but held strange bundles all tied individually.

“I think from the last time he showed me that these are called ‘sage bundles.’ You’re supposed to burn them for a stronger smell, but he might have put it in here since that last time I saw his collection, I liked smelling it from the bottle.”

Holding it out towards you, Niki uncapped the cork top for you to try. You leaned over and hovered your nose over the open neck, exhaling in captivation from the floral foliage and cooling sensation it brought.

“Wow, Niki. This is all so amazing!” You had little to say to the collection of trinkets she assembled for you, still speechless to the effort she went through for you.

“You’re friends sound so nice and thoughtful,” you hummed, reaching for her hand again and interlacing your fingers together.

Niki snorted at the thought but accepted your hand nonetheless.

“They’re okay sometimes.”

#nihachu x reader #nihachu x you #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #niki x reader #niki x you #origins!niki x reader #origins!niki x you

167 notes · View notes

renhaswritersblock · 3 years ago

Text

Kinktober Day 1: Facesitting||Anonymous Sex - Johnson

Word Count: 2174

Warnings: Oral, overstimulation, faded sex, slight angst

A/N: Hello! So, I kinda got a bit carried away with this one *looks at the word count* hehe. But I hope you enjoy reading this fic. Was a bit hesitant at first while writing this smut, but with a few readings from a couple of friends, I continued writing! It's sort of unfinished, a work in progress. The rest of the kinktober day's will probably be short, not sure yet. I have a few exams this week and work is being a cunt, so the writing will be delayed for a short while, sorry. Also, I refer to Johnson in this fic as "The Man" cause of the anonymous sex part. Anyways, again, hope you enjoy reading! Let me know what you think. I do accept feedback/criticism, just don't abuse that power. And I hope ya'll are having a wonderful day. -Ren

~~~

“So, do you mind telling me where the hell we’re going, Frankie?” the strawberry-blonde glanced over at her friend sitting beside her, gripping anxiously at the steering wheel.

Frankie had her head leaned halfway against the open window of the moving car. Feeling the cool summer-night breeze hit her face while her hand traces circles on her wooden thigh. A small yet noticeable grin leisurely forms on the brunette’s face, thinking about tonight’s plans. She had been looking forward to this night for some time, finally be able to get away from the Bang-a-Rang - a place she once called home but is now a prison - and go wherever the river takes her.

“Hello? Earth to Frankie.” Frankie opened her eyes, turning her head swiftly towards the calling of her name. “Are you going to answer my question? Or do I have to turn the damn car around and drive back?”

Frankie pressed her lips together, letting out an exasperate sigh. “You worry too much, V,” she finally replied in a soft, choleric voice.

“No shit,” V retorted, “I rather not have Aunt Rosemary or Dennis be on my fucking ass if you’re doing something that could get us in trouble. Or worse, killed.” She glanced once more at Frankie with a furrowed brow. The brunette rolled her eyes with a snarl, glaring back out the window, head resting in hand. The pale broad’s narrowed eyes dropped into a pitiful look, sighing as she turned her attention back on the road. “Look, hon. I’m trying to be there for you more and back you up, but you can’t just leave me in the dark. You know what happened last time, fuck, it scared the living shit out of me.” Frankie’s eyes darted down at her wrist, seeing the visible dark-faded bruises wrapped around her like a cuff. Her face scrunched mournfully at the memory, remembering how painfully tight those bastards tied the chains. “I don’t want you to die, Frankie,” V finished, becoming teary-eyed.

The strawberry-blonde jumped at the gentle touch of something weighing on her shoulder. Looking over, she saw the olive-skin hand belonging to Frankie, giving a light squeeze for reassurance. “Didn’t know you cared this much about me, V. Thanks,” Frankie gave a half sympathetic smile, V returning a similar smile. “But you should save that melancholic shit-talking for your butch when it gets close to war,” She quipped, making V scowl and slap Frankie’s hand off her shoulder.

“Fuck you, bitch.” Frankie couldn’t help but tilt her head back and release a cackle as V continued staring angrily at the road.

“I’m just fucking with you, puta. You know I love you.” The brunette adjusted herself in her seat, now sitting up straight. “Anyways, a little birdie sent me a note to meet them at this motel in town,” Frankie pulled out a wrinkled note from the pocket of her shorts, handing it to V, “Mira. Thought I could -you know- check it out.” V quickly snatched the piece of paper, silently reading it while keeping an eye on the road.

In town only for tonight. Meet me at the Woodland Motel at 8 pm sharp, don’t be late. See you there.

Ps. bring the thing XO

“The thing?” V quirked up a brow, turning to Frankie with a puzzled expression. All the brunette could do was shrug at her response, fixing her spaghetti strap. V scoffed as she shook her head in disbelief, “Do you even know who you’re meeting? It could be some crazy lunatic who’ll bash your brains out or make you end up in a tub full of ice with a missing organ!” Frankie reached to grab the note out of her friend’s hand as she was waving it around in the air. “Honestly, Frankie. Do you not see the red flags here?”

“Nope.” The brunette answered with a popping sound on the p, “Plus, I know him. Known him for a pretty long time. And besides-” she bends down, tracing her fingers on the smooth wood of her prosthesis. Finding the split crack, she gently pulled at it to reveal a hollowed compartment and a revolver nestled inside. “-if I ever am in danger. I always have this.” She took the gun out of its chamber, swaying it in the air.

---

Lighting another cigarette, the man watched from his car as the brunette struts out of the front office towards the parked convertible, bending down to lean against the car’s open window of the driver’s side.

The last time he saw her, her shaggy hair was long and vibrant, reaching down to her backside, her bangs acting as curtains to shield away her flaws, as she called it. Now her hair was short - below the ears and sleek, it reminded him of Betty Boop.

It was unclear what she was saying to her friend, but not even a minute passed when the convertible came to life and started to drive off, leaving the girl wiggly waving goodbye. Once the car was out of sight, she twirled in the direction of her room.

He couldn’t help but stare longingly at her ass. How her shorts hugged tightly around the brunette, revealing more of her curves and backside. Even her tight-fitted tank top that displayed her womanly busty’s made the man’s cock twitch as they bounced merrily.

When she entered the motel room, the man waited a couple more minutes, taking one good draw of his cigarette puffing out a cloud of smoke before exiting the vehicle. Throwing the cig on the ground, he swaggers across the street, taking out a spare room key from the pocket of his blazer, and approached quietly to the door to room 6.

---

Frankie let out a faint moan, feeling a wave of pleasure overtake her as she played frantically with her clit. Her face growing red hot, firmly cupping one of her breasts, whimpering lowly when she twisted the nipple to feel the burning friction and pressed down on a particular spot of her clit that made her see stars.

After she stepped inside the room, the brunette did not waste time quickly disposing of all her clothes and hopped daintily on top of the bed, not even bothering to turn on the light. She wanted to start slowly, gradually roaming her hands around her body and steadily rubbing her slit on the outer layer of her boxers, but the brunette was impatient. Hungry for the pleasure that would push her over the edge. Intimacy she hadn’t felt for a long time.

Now, sprawled out on the bed, Frankie writhed in frustration, her free hand clenching the pillow below her head as she concentrated on the small squelching sounds of her pussy from teasing her bud. Eyes shut tight, biting back her cries of bliss. She could feel it rising, the knot in her stomach tightening, aching to be released. Yet Frankie refused to, not wanting to climax so soon. Not without him.

She wondered where he was. Wishing -fuck- begging for him to show up and claim her, ruin her, make her a mess. Turning her head toward the nightstand, she saw the red numbers illuminate from the digital clock reading 8:22 pm. Maybe he was running late. The river always kept him busy and distracted, slowly drifting him away from her, leaving her to sink further into the watery depths of the current to drown. Maybe she was set up, that this was another one of the pin-up’s sick jokes to get back at her. Frankie’s chest ached tightly at the many dejecting thoughts consuming her, stopping and removing her hand out of her boxers. He’s not showing up, Frankie thought, tears beginning to cloud her vision.

Suddenly, a pair of hands swiftly grabbed her by the leg and thigh, pulling the brunette down at the edge of the bed. Frankie released a startled squeal, opening her eyes widely to see the dark outline of a man hovering above, two dimly lit orbs longingly staring at her. She gazed back up at the man with a slack-jaw, blushing. Wondering how long had he been here, watching her touch herself soundlessly. Her breath hitched, jolting when she felt the cold but comforting touch of the man, delicately tracing her slender frame. Sending her body trembling every time the tip of his fingers draw near a sensitive bit. He moves down to her breasts, burying his face between them, giving small pecks and soft bites of reassurance that left the brunette flush, turning her head to the side biting her fist to hold back the moans. Noticing this, the man then latched his mouth onto one of her nipples. Frankie hissed and jerked at the pleasurable shock as he sank his teeth into her, granting a loud moan to escape from her lips. She could sense the man looking up, smirking smugly. He repeated his action one more time, greedily wanting to hear her whines and soundless beggings.

Hooking a finger on the waistband of her boyshorts, he steadily tugged the fabric down, opening her legs to fully exposing her wetness. The brunette’s breathed heavily as the man left a trail of tender kisses, going down between her legs. Before he could press his lips against her heat, his hand brushed her thigh accidentally, making the girl flinch and back away out of instinct. He looked up at her with a furrowed brow, questioning what he did to make her panic and flee so slightly. Then it hit him. His eyes darted back at her leg and at the wooden prosthesis still strapped onto her mid-thigh, realizing the mistake he made. He looked back up to her, kissing her other leg apologetically, signaling that he wasn’t going to do anything she was thinking of again. Frankie mumbled an ok before moving hesitantly closer, carefully leaning back and opening her legs once more.

Immediately, he sinks his face into her cunt, dragging his tongue up and down her slit to savor her juice. Frankie whined and stirred, arching her back at the feeling of him vigorously eating her out. As his mouth focused on engorging her clit, he worked two fingers into her hole, perfectly sliding inside her.

The brunette choked out a moan at the intrusion, grabbing ahold of the bedsheets as he slowly dragged his fingers out and quickly shoved them back in, setting a rough pace that hit her g-spot with every thrust. Her hips began to move to meet his fingers and tongue as he proceeded to fuck her, picking up his pace and going knuckles deep. She felt pressure build in the pit of her stomach, increasing by the second. With a brisk roll of his tongue over her clit, Frankie arched her back and spasmed into a powerful orgasm.

“Oh, f-fuck!” Frankie’s eyes rolled back as her body shook violently, huffing out of breath at the sensation.

When the brunette came down from her high, she thought that was the end of it. Only for the man to grab both her hips and pulled Frankie closer to his face, continuing to burrow his tongue into her, repeatedly hitting her sweet spot. Frankie tensed up at the feeling of being stimulated again, bracing for another climax that was closing in. She reached down to try and pull his head away from her. To no avail, the man moving it away by extending his hand out to hers, fingers intertwined. No matter how many times she squirmed away from the man’s face, he would always go forward and proceed to work on her cunt, digging his nails into her skin. Then the brunette made an attempt to roll over to detach his lips from her folds, but it only flipped him over to his back, pulling her to sit on his face.

“S-stop. I-It’s too -fuck- It’s too much,” The brunette arose, gripping at the man’s hands as support, as well as to pry them open, “Fu-Fuck, I’m gonna- AH!” She cried out, snapping her head back as another orgasm came crashing shockwaves of ecstasy into her. The man emitted a mm, parting his lips away from her snatch to breathe. Frankie took it as an opportunity to free herself from him, wearily getting off and slumping next to the man on her back, also catching her breath.

Not even a minute had passed when she heard the metal clang of a belt and looked down to see the silhouette of the man seated upwards. He began to remove his pants, tugging them down to his knees, and turned to face the brunette.

“Just give me a minute.” She responded with a raspy voice, lifting herself gradually. Frankie perched at the side of the bed, unclasping the leather strap of her prosthesis. Removing her leg, she leaned it against the wall and crawled back to the middle, spreading out to present herself to the man. With a slight close-lipped smile, she purred, “Ready when you are, cariño.”

#tppkinktober2021 #johnson reprisal #reprisal johnson #kinktober #david dastmalchian

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sammysmaddy · 4 years ago

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Goodbyes (Samifer x Reader)*

Summary: Sam's said yes to Lucifer and when Lucifer finds all of his dirty thoughts trapped inside his head, he gives Sam a front seat show to his sister.

Pairing: Lucifer!Sam x Winchester!Reader

Warnings: incest, sister!cest, noncon on two accounts, choking, p in v, angst, crying, biting, blood mentioned, Sammy having dirty thoughts about his little sister ;)

W/C: 4,000+

A/N: Idk where this idea popped out of but I love it 😏😳 :) Also I know that twistedly isn't a word, okay? Edited to the best of my ability because I’m too scared to load smut into grammarly 😂

Masterlist

•••

"Sammy? What are you doing here?" She asked, her eyes full and wide as they stared up at him.

"I just wanted to see you," He replied, looking down at her as she sat up against the headboard. He could tell she was still half asleep, a little startled by his presence, and he could practically hear her heart beating out of her chest.

"You didn't?" She trailed on, furrowing her eyebrows and looking super concerned. Sam gave her a soft smile, shaking his head 'no'. As she scooted over towards the middle of the bed, Sam sat next to her, and placed his hand on her thigh in a sense to reassure her. "You okay, Sam? What happened?" She asked, worry lacing her voice in response to his body language. She could tell he was upset, but unfortunately she couldn't read his mind.

"I couldn't do it, Y/N," He admitted, looking down at his hand over the simple white sheet. She was warm and even through the fabric he could tell how soft her skin was, invoking a feeling deep within Sam that he'd never allowed himself to feel. "I couldn't leave you."

"Where's Dean?" She asked, yawning and craning her head back against the headboard. Sam got the opportunity to admire her for that split second, looking down her simple tank top, and even noticing how her throat was pretty. Then, Sam started to think about what she had said. Dean. Why was she always so worried about Dean? It was clear to everyone who met the Winchesters that Dean was her favorite big brother and here Sam was, telling her that he came back for her, and she was asking about Dean. Even though he should be used to it by now, it still makes his blood boil.

"He's pretty pissed with me so I'm sure he's off at some bar," He explained, looking down to admire his hand on her again but then she shifted. When Sam looked back up to gauge her reaction, she looked down, and Sam's heart began to race. Fuck, maybe she had found him out.

"Why is, uh, why is Dean pissed?" She stuttered getting out, swallowing hard. Sam's eyes follow hers but every time he's about to catch them they stray away. She's nervous, her leg is no longer under his hand, and her entire body is tense. Sam needed to think of something and something quick.

"I really don't want to talk about it," Sam said, looking back down, fighting back the smile on his lips as he saw her body relax. Nobody knew Sam better than she did and Sam figured if he continued to act closed off- she wouldn't pry or ask any questions, he was right. When he looked back up, she gave him a sad smile and reached up to swipe a stray hair out of his face. Sam leaned into the touch, his hand coming up to hold her wrist there, and relished the way her soft skin felt on his face.

"Sam, really, are you okay? I figured Lucifer would at least send some demons after you. You know with the whole Detroit thing." Y/N pried and Sam loved that her only question was to ask if he was okay, that he could pull off.

"I'm okay. I just couldn't leave you," Sam gave her a soft smile. When her hand dropped down, Sam held it in his own and ran his thumb over the back of it.

"You're so sappy," She teased, laughing lightly, and Sam shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly. "But we talked about this. Dean and I will be fine, you don't have to worry about us. I just- I don't know what to say." She frowned, looking down, and then looking back up to Sam. "You get that this isn't about us, right? We have had some really shitty plans on how to deal with Lucifer but this is the best bad idea we have so far. And I don't want to say that I'm upset that you didn't say yes but we need to think of something, and we need to think of something quick." She gave Sam a sad look.

"Yeah, I get it," Sam sighed aloud and felt her grip onto his hand. "I needed to say goodbye first."

"We said our goodbyes, Sammy. Hell, I was with you when you drank all of that demon blood," She laughed quietly and Sam gave her a small smile. He took a leap of faith and leaned over, kissing her hard until her head hit the headboard lightly. His lips moved around her still ones, his hands moved up to cup her face, and she didn't move for a few seconds. Once she began to tense up, Sam held her face from straying towards the side, and kissed her more hungrily. Her hands moved up and grabbed his wrists softly, pushing them off of her, and she pulled her head back away from him. "What was that for?" She asked softly, wide eyes staring back into Sam's lustful ones.

"Part of my goodbye," Sam told her, diving back into her lips. She was more prepared this time, struggling as Sam held her wrists in place on the bed, and she tried to turn her head away from him. Sam kept her held there, kissing every bit of her face that he could reach, enjoying the small whimpers that fled as she fought against him.

"Sam, we can't. I don't want to," She pleaded when she turned her head to the side. Sam didn't listen as he used this opportunity to kiss down her neck, nipping at the soft skin, and leaving marks that would form over the next twenty-four hours. "Sammy, this isn't right. You have to stop." She tried pulling her wrists away from his grip, but he wouldn't give. Her knee came up, pushing against Sam's ribcage, and she got a good jab in that made him pull back.

"You don't love me?" Sam asked in a pout and she looked at him with eyes wide and filled with fear.

"I do, but I don't love you in that way. You're my brother," She frowned, tears welling at the brim of her eyes. Sam looked down, sadly, as he was beginning to realize that he was going to have to force her. "I'm not mad, Sammy, I swear." She said softly, using her fingers to push the hair out of his face.

"Please, Y/N," Sam begged, looking up as she gulped nervously. Sam noticed how even though she seemed so scared, she was still gentle and caring about how Sam was feeling, it only made him want her more.

"No, Sam. I'm sorry," She told him. He watched as her lip trembled and fresh tears fell down her face and frowned to himself. He took a deep breath, swiftly collecting her wrists again, and climbed over her small body. She fought much more this time and Sam could taste her salty tears on her lips, drinking them in like water. Sam sat on her thighs to keep her legs down and her fingernails began to dig into his forearm as he continued to attack her mouth with his.

"Stop struggling," He told her firmly, almost in a growl, and she whimpered in return. When he reached down to kiss her again her teeth dug into his bottom lip, drawing blood and making him pull back. "Bitch," Sam muttered, using his fingers to wipe the blood off of his lips. She made use of her free hand to push against Sam, but he wouldn't budge. She was crying a river and when Sam's hand reached up and wrapped around her throat, she stopped moving altogether.

"You're not Sam," She said, her voice shaking, as she looked back up into his eyes. Sam grinned at her cockily and her eyes squeezed shut as he applied more pressure on her neck.

"What gave me away?" Lucifer asked in Sam's voice, whispering against her ear, and feeling the chills that ran down her body.

"Sammy would never hurt me," She choked out, crossing her arms over her chest for protection. She didn't bother pushing against him, it would be no use, and Sam was internally screaming at Lucifer to stop.

"You sure about that?" He checked, chuckling deeply. He placed a wet kiss along her jaw line and she choked out a sob, trying to curl her knees up to her chest, but he was too heavy for her to do so.

"Please, don't do this," She said in a small voice, grabbing onto his wrist and trying to loosen his grip. He let go of her neck altogether and she gasped out for air, then his fingers danced against her collarbones. He admired how pretty she looked in her tank top, how plump her lips got from the way that he sucked on them, and he couldn't wait to see the faces she made when he fucked into her. Sam knew what was coming next and as much as he hated to admit it, it felt good to finally let go.

•••

"I'm inside your grapefruit, Sam. You can't lie to me. I see it all- how odd you always felt, how... out of place in that... family of yours," Lucifer smirks in Sam's body in the mirror. Sam's biting back, trying to block him from seeing everything, trying to claw his way out. "That's not how you're supposed to look at your sister, Sammy." Lucifer chuckled lightly, shaking his head from side to side.

"Don't talk about her. Don't even think about her. I'm going to rip you from the inside out, do you understand me?" Sam threatened through gritted teeth.

"Sam, I've had some messed up thoughts about my family too. I mean, seriously, I'm using your meatsuit to try and kill my brother. But this? This isn't even something the Devil himself wouldn't think about." Lucifer joked and Sam's fists were growing white from holding all of his anger inside. "Baby sister, Y/N. Who would have thought she's what turned your gears at night?"

"No, that's not true," Sam said in a desperate attempt to flip the script, but he couldn't hide anything. He couldn't hide any of his dirty thoughts about, Y/N, or about the fact he had dreamt about being inside her. He couldn't hide that he wondered about whether or not she'd be quiet when he fucked her or what she tasted like. He couldn't hide that he imagined her face as she came undone around him and he couldn't hide how he'd never wanted anything more than he wanted her. But Sam had never advanced on her, ranking it down to a dirty fantasy, and she'd never shown any interest.

"It is. And here I thought having all of Azazel's gang to kill would help you blow off steam," Lucifer scoffed, turning his body so Sam could see all of the people throughout his life that terrorized him. He recognized every one of them, from teachers to his prom date, but he was more angry about the fact that his cover was blown about Y/N. "Or maybe you'd prefer something else I can offer." He chuckled deeply, turning back to Sam. Sam swallowed hard, increasingly worrying about Y/N since he wasn't in control of his body anymore.

"I don't want anything from you," Sam spit out, his face white-hot with anger. The look in his own eyes as he stared into the mirror was something that Sam had never seen before. They were his eyes, yes, but Lucifer had installed a different kind of lust that Sam didn't recognize.

"Oh, come on, Sam. This is your one opportunity, using me as an excuse to fuck your little sister. She'd never blame you. I just want you to be happy and these pawns just aren't going to do it for you, are they?" Lucifer tsked and Sam tried harder to claw his way out, but Lucifer was too strong. "I can put a good show on for you, show you what you've been dying to see for all these years." He offered, but Sam didn't let the thought become a possibility in his head. He wasn't going to do it like this. "Remember when she grew breasts? Like overnight? That's when you started to look at her differently. You stopped thinking about her as a little sister, just a hot fuck, and you felt so sick." He said, bringing back Sam's old memories. Sam was too angry to reply, he stared into the mirror with angry silence and furrowed brows. "But then you didn't feel sick anymore, isn't that right? You even accepted the fact that you wanted to fuck her. You've been dreaming about it ever since. Even when you were with Jess. Used her and pretended she was your baby sister, how naughty."

"Stop talking," Sam shook his head angrily, he couldn't hear the truth anymore. He didn't want to be the person that Y/N thought of when she thought about how fucked up her life was, he didn't want to hurt her more than she was already hurting.

"Denial isn't going to get you anywhere, Sammy," Lucifer had let out a low chuckle, deviously smiling at Sam through the mirror. "Bet she's so tight. Bet she plays with herself every night, maybe even in the same bed as you. Bet her scream is so pretty." He taunted and Sam tried his hardest to not think about what he was saying. But Sam had often thought about these things. He knew that she probably was tight, knowing that she hadn't gotten much action since being on the road with her brothers, and he couldn't stop his mind from wandering. "Big day is tomorrow. I say we make a pit stop at the motel, maybe she'll be all nice and ready for you, Sam."

•••

He drank up every bit of her. Both Sam and Y/N's clothes were on the floor, hers shredded and long forgotten, as she cried underneath him. It was more of a silent cry now, small whimpers, as Sam's painfully hard cock dragged in and out of her. Her body was so tense it made her cunt tighter than Sam could have imagined, and he hated himself for enjoying it so damn much. She was almost lifeless, laying there and letting him take what he wanted. Small whimpers, Sam wouldn't dare call them moans, fled her lips and Sam desperately chased his high- more so for her than for him, despite how insanely aroused he was. Her fingernails were digging into his forearms and she had her head turned to the side, too ashamed to look at Sam as he assaulted her.

Sam hadn't realized that he was crying until he saw his own tears on her naked chest. He couldn't bare to look at her face, realize how much he was hurting her. He couldn't think about the fact that, if he made it out of this alive, this would be the first thing she thought of. She would never look at him the same, if ever again. She wouldn't ever trust him, she wouldn't be happy to see him, and she would never love him again. It was killing Sam and he, too, had stopped his internal fight with Lucifer. He stopped clawing inside his own head, knowing that Lucifer was too strong, and began to let himself feel whatever Lucifer wanted him to feel.

"Sammy, it's okay. It's okay, I'm okay," She sobbed and Sam finally looked up to see her face. She brought her hands up to cup his face, wiping away his tears with her thumbs. Lucifer took his opportunity, knowing Sam could see everything, as he thrusted into her harder than ever before. She cried out, biting her lip, and closed her eyes shut as much as she could.

"I'm sorry," Sam croaked out, feeling the way his body was moving involuntarily and betraying him. She couldn't hear him, he knew that, but he needed to say it. He needed to know that he wasn't actually enjoying this, he needed to know that it wasn't his fault. She was hurting and Sam couldn't fathom that it was his fault. His body fell down and pressed against her, burying his face into her neck as he wrapped his arms under her head. Sam wouldn't dare call it a moan, but with the new angle she had let out a noise.

"It's not you, Sam. I know that. I love you," She whispered in his ear, wrapping her arms around his back. She held onto him tightly, pressing him against her body more than he already was, and began to whimper uncontrollably. Sam almost felt safe in her arms, like it was a hug, and tried his best to focus on the way she held onto him. His hips were rutting into her at an unforgiving pace, with no sign in the future that he was going to come undone, and he continued to tell himself that it wasn't his fault. He'd never to that to her. He'd never hurt her. This wasn't him. He would never make her do something that she didn't want to and he appreciated that she was still so caring, even though it was his body that was attacking her.

Sam groaned loudly when she wrapped her legs around his waist, the heels of her feet pushing him deeper inside of her. She had let a string of fucks come out of her mouth and she was holding onto him as tight as she could, Sam could feel her walls clenching around him more sporadically too. Sam hated that he felt pride, knowing she was close, knowing that she was about to cum on his cock, but something about her being satisfied made him happy. The thought made something in his core rumble and each thrust was feeling better and better- he was close too.

"Fuck, Sammy," She let out in a breathy voice and Sam couldn't help but groan at her words. When her legs began to shake and her teeth sunk into his shoulder, masking all of her moans of pleasure and hints of disgust, Sam began to fuck into her harder. It felt so twistedly good to feel her clenching so hard around him, that his cock was the thing she was cumming on, Sam was even starting to enjoy it. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Y/N whined, trying to catch her breath. She was letting out guttural moans from her throat, squirming underneath him, and Sam was loving every second of it. He was so close to coming undone as her legs fell to the bed and Sam began to miss the way she was pushing him into her, but she still held onto him with her arms.

"Come on, Sammy. Cum for me," She encouraged in a whisper, making Sam's eyebrows furrow in pleasure. He knew that she was only saying these things so that it would stop, but Sam used it as a push to his release. Or tried to, just as the guilt began to push its way in his mind. He couldn't help but let his thoughts trail off. She'd never forgive him for this and Sam could never forgive himself either.

Y/N had sensed that Sam was tensing above her, rejecting what his body wanted so desperately to do. When she had came, Sam's body began to tremble and she knew he was close. Now, he was tense and his thrusts were harder, surely bruising her core, and almost threatening to bring her to the edge agin.

"I'm sorry," Was the first thing that she had heard from the actual Sam all night and it was so quiet she wasn't even sure she was meant to hear it. She knew that he still had to be in there and as much as she was hating what was happening, hating that her body had betrayed her, she knew it wasn't Sam's fault. He was merely a pawn for Lucifer and as to why he had chosen to do this to her, she had no idea- but she knew there was only one way out of this.

"Want you to cum for me," She told him, beginning to emphasize the small whimpers and moans that were already leaving her mouth. Y/N wasn't sure if that would make things worse or better- hearing his baby sister say those things to him- but Sam had let out a deep moan and she knew he was beginning to relax. "Cum inside me, Sammy. I want it." She lied, feeling disgusted with her own words, and Sam began to moan louder.

His thrusts began to get sloppier and harder as he began to feel his cock twitch inside her. She was still pulsing around him, her cunt trying to milk him for all his worth, and soon enough his hips stilled. Y/N felt immediately relieved and somewhat nauseous, knowing that her big brother had just cum inside of her- but it wasn't really him. Sam would never do this to her- he'd never want to do this to her. He gasped out for air, a long groan following, as he came inside of her- pushing his hips up inside of her as much as he could. "You did so good, Sam." She praised in a quiet voice, her fingernails rubbing up and down his back. He panted into the crook of her neck, holding onto her, and smelling her hair. But the moment didn't last long and he felt his body sit up.

His fingertips reached out and touched her forehead, and Sam watched as she fell asleep. He climbed out of bed, pulling the covers over her naked body, and began to walk to the other side where his clothes were at. He quickly pulled on his underwear and his pants, looping his belt through the holes and securing it. Sam grabbed his flannel off of the floor, heading for the bathroom where Lucifer could talk to him.

"How's that for a goodbye?" Lucifer chuckled cockily and all of Sam's anger fled back into his body. It was a mixture of guilt and sadness, hating the way that her words were the ones to push them over the edge- that he had wanted to hear that kind of praise from Y/N for so long.

"I'm going to kill you," Sam muttered seriously, looking into the mirror at himself. His chest was glistening with sweat and he could see Y/N lying in the bed behind him. He was the most angry he had ever been in his entire life but seeing Y/N peaceful and asleep brought some sort of serenity to him, at least he didn't have to kill her.

"Relax, kid. She won't even remember it," He smirked at Sam. "But you will." He smiled and Sam grunted, annoyed with all of the stupid comments, but most of all relieved. If what Lucifer said was true, she wouldn't remember it. She wouldn't resent or hate him for what he had done to her, she would still love him.

He began to feel sick with what he had just done, but he tried to remember what she told him. It's okay, I'm okay. It's not you. I love you.

"You know, I didn't even move for the last minute or so. That was all you, Sammy,"

#Sam Winchester #supernatural #SPN #SPNFamily #oneshot #fanfic #fan fiction #Jared Padalecki #winchester

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sweatergirlsposts · 4 years ago

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Imagine Being Part of The Wolf Pack and Imprinting on Carlisle (Oneshot)

(A/N: Back by demand here is a longgggg oneshot of this imagine. I’m a little rusty, but I hope you all like it)

Ever since you turned, life had gotten lonelier for you. Living the pack life meant separating yourself from your closest friends and finding only solace in your brothers and sister in the pack, but it wasn’t always enough. No one could know your secret, especially your mother.

Your mother thought all the stories about turning into wolves was entertaining for children, but to ponder on them as adults was a waste of time. Your father was a Quileute while your mother was a resident of Forks. Your father never turned or imprinted but he did fall in love with your mother and stayed on the La Push reservoir until he died.

You turned when you found out the news of your father’s mysterious death. The police described it as an accidental fall off a cliff, but you knew your father wouldn’t even be near a cliff, for he had an intense fear of heights. According to a police report, that you stole, they found long wavy auburn strands on his body. Your mother’s first thoughts were that your father probably had an affair, but you also knew that your father wouldn’t even dream about being with any women other than your mother. Least to say, your hypothesis was that your father was murdered.

Still living in La Push, you come up with excuses to your mother of why you’re always out late and how your friends with everyone in the pack. She thinks it’s weird but tells you that if it gets out of hand then she will ban you from leaving the house. You didn’t see the point seeing as were an adult, but you let her say whatever made her feel comfortable.

Currently, everyone in the pack were getting ready to go train with the vamps, or more formally known as the Cullens.

You only knew/heard of their family and individual names in passing, whenever Sam or Jacob would rely a thought through the pack connection. One name that you heard all time was Bella Swan, the human girl whom you’ve briefly met, that was involved with them. Everyone in the pack would always recoil at the thought of Bella and Edward, her Vampire significant other, being together. You could give less of a care in the world. The only thing you cared about was if they were to kill another human or if they passed into your land.

“Get ready to head out,” Sam yelled who stripped down to his skimmies like everyone else. To say that you go through a lot of undergarments in a week was an understatement.

“(Y/N), you take behind the pack,” Sam ordered. Sam trusted you to keep the pack safe from behind, seeing that you were just as strong as himself and Paul.

“Yes Sam,” you responded with compliance waiting for everyone else to turn before you did.

You changed thinking of the only thing that could make you enraged, the death of your father. Bursting from your human form, came forth your wolf form. You were covered in thick dark grey fur with highlights of white that reflected when the sun hit it just right.

‘Let’s go’ is all Sam said through the connection as Jacob howled to let the Cullens know that you all were coming.

Apparently according to Sam and Jacob, the Cullens had offered an olive branch because they need your help to take down a common enemy, rouge vampires. These vampires were coming after Bella and therefore were breaking the treaty of harming humans and would get the punishment the tribe saw fit for this conflict; to be put to death. One of the vampires of their coven, Jasper you believed his name was, said that they could train you to fight against these vampires, for his prior experience with some.

‘What is the point in meeting up with those bloodsuckers! What can they teach us that we don’t already about killing their kind.’ Paul sneered through the connection as you ran as a pack to the meeting spot.

‘It’s not about what they can teach us, it’s about keeping treaty and protecting our people, even if it means working with them for short amount of time’ Sam growled with his hackles raising to assert his dominance.

Sam was the first to make it over the hill to the clearing the Cullens agreed to meet up at. Still in a protective approach, one by one the pack emerged from the brush. Since you were last, Sam expected that you would circle the perimeter to make sure that there were no unexpected guests.

“They don’t trust us enough to be in their human forms,” you heard from a soft masculine, almost throaty voice, as you soon finished your circle around the area.

“They came. That’s what matters” said another voice that sounded silky and comforting. You shake the ghost chill that ran through your fur giving you goosebumps as you made your way up the hill.

“Will you translate?” asked the second voice before the first protested.

“Hold on there’s another one coming up the hill,” the voice sensed your approach making it’s way atop of the hill. Finally showing yourself, you observed the clearing in which everyone would practice in.

Your eyes came across each Cullen and Bella. One by one, you surveyed how each one looked with what you assumed to be their companion, until your eyes stopped on who you assumed was their leader that stood in front of your group.

And in that moment you could feel you heart almost drop out of your body. Your head became overwhelmed and dizzy as if you had rolled down a hill and you were trying to find your equilibrium to stand. Something flowed through your veins, stronger than hormones and more numbingly intoxicating than morphine. As soon as the feeling came hitting you like you ran into a brick wall, it disappeared.

You knew what you did and oh boy did you regret it. You imprinted on the angelic blond vampire in front of your whole pack and they felt it through the connection.

The vampire with Bella turned his head towards you with a taken aback look but also one of understanding. It was like he was reading your mind. He looked back and forth between you and ‘him’

‘Oh fuck’ is all you thought after imprinting on the vampire.

“Carlisle we might have a situation,” informed ‘Bella’s’ vampire to ‘him’ while still staring at you before letting him say anything.

Before you knew what was happening, Sam jumped atop of you knocking you onto your back.

‘YOU IMPRINTED ON ONE OF THEM!!’ Sam ferociously barked in your face, ready to attack in case you resisted.

‘Disgusting!’ yelled another through the connection.

‘I can’t control it Sam, you of all people know that’ you whimpered meekly. Considering that you usually had a strong demeanor, you’ve never felt so vulnerable and powerless within your time being in the pack.

“Hey!” called Bella’s vampire, “Let them go, they can’t control it”

You took advantage of this distraction and pushed Sam off of you. Once freed, for a mere moment, Sam caught you by the leg and punctured it with his massive teeth.

Letting out a yelp at the sudden pain to your hind leg, you donkey kicked Sam in the face with your other leg and ran away limping. You couldn’t believe what Sam just did to you. You needed air, you needed space from your pack, and from him.

All your instincts told you to turn around to be near your imprint, to protect the bewitchingly good looking vampire from your pack in case, but you couldn’t be near him. The shame that your stupid wolfy senses put upon your shoulders was too much to bare right now. All you wanted right now was be alone with your thoughts and to go get help for your leg.

Meanwhile in the clearing, all but one vampire was very confused at what went down.

“What just happened?” Bella asked being the first one to verbalize everyone else’s thoughts

“They imprinted on Carlisle,” Edward stated confound, “The one that Sam attacked”

No one was more surprised than Carlisle. He didn’t really know how to take it, especially if the feelings were coming from one of the people they had a treaty with. One thing he knew for sure was he needed to check on you, if that bite got infected while your out in the forest it was going to cause you a lot damage to your human self.

Reading Carlisle’s mind, Edward knew that he was coming along to track and translate once you were found.

Carlisle turned to Jasper, “You continue you to show them how to take care of the newborns, Edward and I will be back soon.”

Leaving the clearing, Carlisle followed Edward so he could track your mind to find you.

You laid on the river bank, still in your wolf form and bleeding from your back left leg. This river was the one that your father would take you to go fly fishing in when you were a kid. It was the river in between the land of both the Cullen’s and the Quileute’s, but the part you were at was far enough down that the pack wouldn’t hear your thoughts from there.

The pain from your leg hurt like a bitch. You were so livid with not only Sam and the pack, but yourself.

‘How could you be so stupid to imprint on one of them?!’ you thought to yourself, ‘Of all people and creatures, it had to be the people that your people were sworn enemies to! The pack will never want me back’

Trying to distract yourself from your mind, you tried ‘cleaning’ your wound with your tongue as disgusting as it sounds.

Edward could hear your thoughts of pain as you tried ‘cleaning’ the bite. Werewolf blood was in a way revolting like the smell of them. The blood was still edible but unnecessary to the vampire diet. Both Carlisle and himself, arrived at the edge of the tree line where you couldn’t see them.

“Let’s try not to scare them off. By the substantial smell of blood, if they keep straining the wound, they’re going to pass out soon,” Carlisle smelt the aroma lingering in the air, “I think you should go first to talk to them Edward”

You could smell that someone else was there. Vampire with possibly more vampires. You try standing up in case you have to defend yourself but stumble backwards.

“Easy (Y/N)” you whip your head to find Bella’s vampire walking towards you slowly from 10 feet away, “I’m Edward, and I’m here to help”

You wondered how he knew your name but remembered that his kind had special gifts, you assumed his was mind reading.

‘I don’t need your help, I need to be alone right now please,’ you growled lowly as a warning.

“I can’t let you do that, especially if you’re bleeding that much,” he said gesturing to your injured leg and how the thick substance spilled from it matting your fur.

‘There’s more of you here, I smell someone else’

“I brought someone that could help your leg. I brought Carlisle, he’s the one you imprinted on”

You let his roll around in your mind. It sounded like the name of someone who belonged to bloodline of royalty. Edward smirked reading how you played around with Carlisle’s name.

Starting to feel the blood loss, you fall down into a laying position on your side.

“Carlisle!” Edward called over to his adoptive father as he watched you fall to the ground

Catching your breath, you felt two presences over your form, Edward by your muzzle while Carlisle was by your leg analyzing it.

“They’re losing a lot of blood. We’re going to have to get them to turn back so we can wrap a tourniquet around their leg,” Carlisle relays to Edward before turning to you, “I’m going to need you to revert back so I can help you”

You looked into his amber eyes. Even though his colour was similar to Edward’s and the rest of the Cullens, you could see that his had matured longer to be that certain colour. It was like first day break rays hitting rich honey.

‘I will be nude if I change back. Can I have a cover of some sort?’

“Carlisle, (Y/N) would like to use your jacket to cover up when they turn, if that’s okay they asked”

Carlisle had no objection there, as a doctor he had seen everything but he understood that you would like to cover any and all modesty. He took off his jacket and placed it over your large form.

You calmed down and slowly felt yourself shrink back into your human body with the jacket, thankfully, covering enough of your skin. Edward held your head above the rocks, trying to keep you awake. Carlisle took off his blue crew neck sweater, leaving him in a white undershirt, and made the tourniquet on your upper thigh above the teeth gash on your inner and outer thigh. The blood soaked through the sweater but Carlisle didn’t care, his main concern was getting you some where to stitch you up.

“We should take them back to the house. Edward call Alice to tell them to stay out of the house for a couple hours”

Finally looking to your face, Carlisle had to stop for a second to take you in. Your features were soft yet seemed like they were chiseled in a likeness to statues he had seen in his time with the Volturi. There was only one word that came to how he felt when it came to looking at you in your human form.

Alive

As if a shock of electricity flowed through him, and jump started his heart he could see why you imprinted on him. If he was your imprint then you were his ‘true’ mate.

Similarly to imprinting, when Vampires find their ‘true’ mates an eternal romantic bond is formed, it cannot be broken, and it can be anyone. Esme and himself acted as partners for many years as to not draw attention from the locals, for it would be suspicious that two individuals would raise six adopted children. He too had been lonely for over the last three and a half centuries but he would have never suspected that you, a shapeshifter, would be his true mate.

Again for the second time today, Edward was astonished but had to stay composed enough for Carlisle and to not drink your blood.

“We should get them back Carlisle,” Edward broke Carlisle’s train of thought back to the fact you were indeed bleeding out. Edward moved away a couple steps so he could get out his phone and call Alice.

“I’ll send you the money for your dry cleaning,” you said to Carlisle, wearily trying to stay conscious.

“No need to do that (Miss/Mr/Mx) (Y/N). Edward and I are going to take you back to our house to give you stitchs”

“I would like that very much,” you slurred feeling the effects of blood loss before falling into unconsciousness.

Carlisle scooped you up into his arms. In perfect contrast, your form burned and he was frigid to the touch. It was comfortable for once not being the temperature of a blast furnace for you, and him to not feel like glacier to others.

Meeting your imprint was far from how some of the pack described meeting their’s, especially with all the blood and confusion. Eventually, you knew that you’d forgive Sam for what he did to you. And he and the pack would come to a place of understanding for their feelings about you and your imprint. For now, you knew while floating in between being conscious or unconscious in the doctors arms, that you’ll never feel truly lonely ever again.

MASTERLIST

(Request are open! Gif Source Unknown)

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jaggedcliffs · 3 years ago

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Onto Episodes 15-18, the terrible, awful, heartbreaking arc full of sadness and tears. Which took a while for me to get through due to a combination of: sadness, trying to spend more of my time writing fic, and then just having a couple of busy weekends:

Jiang Fengmian being pretty sure Jin Guangshan won’t do shit to help the Yao Clan or the war effort -- and is only convinced when his sons back up Jin Zixuan -- creates some nice quiet build-up for the villain of the second half of the flashback. It’s like flashing a quick warning sign that reads: “JGS is a slimy shit.”

Ah yes, the Moses Instinct...sending your kid(s) down river in the hopes that they’ll survive a terrible massacre and have a better life elsewhere

Sometimes the fight choreography in this show is very meaningful (like the two mirrored Wangxian fights), and sometimes the fight choreography is...a bunch of Wen Clan extras waving their swords vaguely in Madame Yu’s direction and occasionally hitting her.

But that doesn’t matter because I’m still crying!!! Because little sixth shidi’s death!!! Because Jiang Fengmian and Madame Yu dying together and holding hands!!!! Four viewings later and it still makes me cry!!!! I don’t even like Madame Yu and I’m still crying when she crawls over to Jiang Fengmian just to hold his hand

Jiang Yanli and Jiang Fengmian: kings and queens of dying in the middle of telling a loved one something important that might reassure them of their love soon before that loved one also dies.

Most of what Madame Yu taught Wei Wuxian consisted of insecurity, worthlessness, pain, trauma, a strict sense of class structure despite JFM’s attempts to flatten it, a sense of indebted way far beyond what is owed, and the like. But two things they share are: crying/laughing at your hopeless situation and then deciding that you’re such a bad bitch that no one can kill you but yourself

Shout out Wen Zhuliu, who is purposely being his least competent at most disruptive at Lotus Pier. He doesn’t just drink the poison, but when Wen Chao orders him to look for the Yunmeng sibs -- who are sleeping in a nearby field -- he doesn’t find them in the slightest. He stops Wang Lingjiao from stabbing Madame’s Yu dead body. He is ridiculously slow in looking for the Yunmeng sibs in Yiling. He is just not paid enough to fully participate in these atrocities

To continue on from the last couple episodes where Wei Wuxian took charge in the Xuanwu cave (in turns with Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji), Wei Wuxian is the one who maintains a cooler, battle-tactical head for half of this arc:

In Episode 15, as he and Jiang Cheng discuss the cruelty of the Wens, he knows the Wen Clan will probably start wiping out clans more ruthlessly, and tries to get Jiang Cheng plan for the attack (I’m not sure why they don’t take any precautions. Plot reasons???? Jiang Cheng is officially in charge, and he’s a scared, angry teen waiting for his dad to back and tries to stave off the fear by saying things like “however many come is however many I’ll kill”? Madame Yu is in charge and wouldn’t listen to a word Wei Wuxian says? Nobody wants to do too much without their clan leader there??? idk)

In Episodes 15-16, not only is Wei Wuxian being calmer in the boat compared to Jiang Cheng when Madame Yu sends them away, he also tells Jiang Cheng to sneak in the back way though Lotus Pier so they won’t get caught; he refuses to let Jiang Cheng go back to Lotus Pier for revenge; he’s the one rowing the boat and getting food and medicine. He takes charge and takes care of his siblings while they are catatonic and, in Jiang Yanli’s case, sick.

...and then Jiang Cheng is taken.

And Wei Wuxian starts falling apart

Like, Wei Wuxian is really tearing himself to pieces at the end of Episode 16, thinking about how he has to protect both Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng, but is unable to physically be in two places at once to make sure they’re both safe -- and isn’t even sure if Jiang Cheng is at Lotus Pier to protect

Which I guess is par for the course for the Yunmeng sibs. It’s that kind of fear that drives Jiang Yanli onto an active battlefield in some hope -- however desperate, however futile -- of rescuing Wei Wuxian. It’s the same thing that drives Wei Wuxian off that cliff

Well boys, we’ve cracked the case *gestures vaguely at all of post-Nightless City!JC* This man suffers from “permanent sibling in trouble”-itis with no cure, compounded by “having some responsibility in getting one of them killed and in denial about it” disorder

Wei Wuxian’s anger at Wen Ning is really hard to watch, especially knowing how far Wen Ning is going to go/will go for Wei Wuxian. There’s the repeated beats of violence then backing down, violence then backing down; seeing a Wen then seeing Wen Ning, seeing an enemy then seeing a friend. And Wei Wuxian finally seems to give up on any plan involving Wen Ning (in a violent way) when he sees the spiritual protection pouch, and classifies him back as “friend,” not just “a Wen.” Even now, there are lines Wei Wuxian can’t cross.

I completely forgot, that in addition to his great many other variety of skills, Wei Wuxian also invented a new type of wine. And apparently Lotus Pier uses his home brew

I still have no idea who the fuck Granny Liu is, but the fact that she doesn’t want Wei Wuxian bowing to her means that they must be pretty close. Worse, it’s precursor to Wei Wuxian’s bow to Jiang Yanli in Episode 29. Already, he’s separating himself from the family, from the Jiang Sect, from...whoever Granny Liu is.

Overall, these episodes really do a number on Wei Wuxian’s feelings of belongingness in the Jiang family and do a lot to further his insecurities:

I mean, obviously there’s Madame Yu’s everything, but she’s always done her best to make sure Wei Wuxian feels like shit like he doesn’t belong

While Jiang Fengmian may have meant his parting words as “You’re the man of the house now and the most competent eldest male, stay strong” variety...it certainly sounds like “you’re my real kids’ bodyguards’ now, take care of them” (but clear communication has never been Jiang Fengmian’s strong suite)

Even Jiang Yanli a contributes a teensy bit, too. Like asking Wei Wuxian to tell her what happened at Lotus Pier, to avoid putting the burden on Jiang Cheng. Or being isolated in her own grief like on the boat ride while Wei Wuxian ferries them around like he really is their caretaker rather than their brother (which I don’t blame her or Jiang Cheng for in the slightest! They’re grieving!)

But of course, being Jiang Yanli, she later reaffirms in Episode 17 that Wei Wuxian is her family, perhaps her only family left, and she doesn’t want to be parted from him.

Except then there’s Jiang Cheng...

Wow that choking scene goes on for a while

When Jiang Cheng refuses to move from the field where he choked Wei Wuxian, Wei Wuxian decides to say “Shijie is still waiting for us.” Like he knows that Jiang Cheng won’t do anything for Wei Wuxian now. He won’t be motivated by anything Wei Wuxian thinks or wants. But he’ll still be motived by his sister. He will still care about sister. And...he seems to be right. Jiang Cheng only moves at the reminder of his sister. Not anything to do with Wei Wuxian

And there’s the very painfully deliberate writing that has an unconscious Jiang Cheng call out for every member of his family...except Wei Wuxian. The family member who isn’t really family. All the while, Wei Wuxian listens and wipes the sweat from his brow. And since he’s unconscious, it’s easier for Wei Wuxian to see it as a reflection of how he really feels

Anyway, this is why I like the idea of post-canon Jiang Cheng telling Wei Wuxian about his own self-sacrifice play. It would do a lot of good -- for both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng -- to reaffirm their brotherhood. Not only is there the parallel of scarifies between the two, but on Jiang Cheng’s end, it says “yes I know what I did to you, what I said to you, how I acted towards you, but even then you were still my family. You were still always my brother.”

Ugh the DYNAMICS when Wen Ning brings the Yunmeng sibs to the Yiling supervisory office

Wei Wuxian’s rage, paranoia, and PTSD from the Wen Sect take-over of Lotus Pier when he asks Wen Ning’s who’s territory they stole and if this a trap

But then his little “Sorry” to Wen Ning once Wen Ning and Jiang Yanli make him see reason

But then Wen Qing, holding so much power the moment she walks in to completely destroy the sad remnants of the Jiang Clan and they all know it. Jiang Yanli and Wen Ning hold their breaths waiting, while Wei Wuxian takes this one desperate action to grab the sword -- and he doesn’t threaten Wen Ning, who is well within arm’s reach, but her. As if he were close enough to kill Wen Qing before she could shout. And Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing exchange these looks like, his is utterly desperate and half-feral, while hers is achingly sad

And then it’s over, and Wei Wuxian can drop the sword, all that rage and desperation dropped too into exhausted, thankful, relief

But even then Wei Wuxian remains paranoid, on edge when there’s a simple knock at Jiang Cheng’s door, ready to defend at a moment’s notice

And he’s still so angry, but not at Wen Qing or Wen Ning.

But Wei Wuxian’s anger submerges into sad desperation after Jiang Cheng wakes up -- though not gone entirely, because it comes back in those Burial Mounds with a vengeance. But right now other things take priority

Wen Qing will see Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli interacting together and be like “Oh no! Right in my older sister-younger brother feels!”

Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian to each other be like: “giving you food when you’re absorbed in research to the detriment of your own health is an act of love”

Oof, this rewatch is really doing numbers on my enjoyment of the WQ/JC ship. Because, honestly...I’m pretty the only times that Wen Qing shows a strong emotions around Jiang Cheng, it’s either “worry about WWX,” or “pity.” “Pity” being the main one in these episodes

Plus Wen Qing seems to have a much stronger relationship with both Jiang Cheng’s siblings than with Jiang Cheng himself (okay so the JYL & WQ is mostly off-screen here and in Cloud Recesses, but it’s still there). Hell, Jiang Yanli probably even has a better relationship with Wen Ning as well in these episodes (since they go herb-gathering together)

If you wanna be her lover, you gotta get with her friends (gotta get with her friends~)...and by friends I mean her brother and family

The music playing when Wei Wuxian tells Wen Qing about the transfer is lighter version of the full orchestral song that plays when Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng see the destroyed Jiang Sect and Wei Wuxian kills himself in Nightless City (and a couple other sad times I’m probably forgetting.). It’s saying “this will be a death.” This will be a destruction, a scouring. Wei Wuxian will try to live on, but it won’t last. The world won’t let him.

How did I only just noticed now that the scenery where Wei Wuxian finds Song Lan and the scenery that Jiang Cheng walks around in blindfolded is pretty much the same???? Anyway, it doesn’t do anything to help trick Jiang Cheng, but it does help trick the audience (if they actually notice it, unlike me).

When Wei Wuxian wakes up Jiang Cheng from his needle-induced sleep, he says two pointed remarks Jiang Cheng: “Do you really want to die?” and “Even if you die, you won’t be able to take revenge.” And I have to wonder if he’s testing whether or not Jiang Cheng really can pull himself through on his own, whether he really would be able to be able to live without core. Whether it’s absolute necessary that Wei Wuxian needs to give up his core, his future, his ability to truly live in the cultivation world. It’s not exactly long-term and waiting for some space/time away from the trauma to see if Jiang Cheng can recover, but they don’t exactly have that time or space at the moment. Wen Qing is the only person who can perform the transfer (outside of a BSSR ex Machina actually appearing), and the longer they stay, the higher their chances of being captured. It really is now or never.

I should be more offended on Jiang Yanli’s behalf that she was drugged and carted off, but even Wen Qing seemed to be expecting it, seeing as she has the drugs ready to go. “Overriding your loved-ones autonomy to ensure their health and safety” apparently runs in the Jiang, Wen, and Wei families. But maybe you guys should talk first instead next time, hmmm? Hmmmm?

Jiang Fengmian to bby!WWX: “you don’t have to apologize for things that aren’t your fault.” Madame Yu, post-res!JC and occasionally pre-res!JC: “lol it’s cute that you think that”

Wei Wuxian gives this two last, lingering looks after Jiang Yanli, first when he and Jiang Cheng say goodbye in the cart, and then when Song Lan takes her away. And I realized he’s probably saying goodbye in case this doesn’t work ;_;

(I wonder if that’s why he decided to bring up the first time he had her soup -- reminiscing on the first moment they became siblings. A good memory, in case he didn’t make it.)

Every time one of the Yunmeng Sibs make the promise that “We three should never part”...every time one of them breaks that promise, knowingly or accidentally or simply because circumstances beyond their control, or even just in Jiang Yanli’s case with Jin Zixuan that she has a life of her own beyond caring for her brothers...it hurts. It’s a promise inevitably made to be broken, and it hurts.

#jagged watches the untamed #the untamed #meta #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #jiang yanli #wen qing #wen ning #jiang fengmian #madame yu #wen zhuliu #longpost #I was going to add the way jyl never actually says she *doesn't* blame wwx for the fall of lotus pier in e17 #to the list of 'wwx feels separated from his family'#but when there's translation involved I'm worried about doing literary analyses on exact wording #man I feel like these just keep getting longer and longer

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bigfrozenfan-fanfics · 3 years ago

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Chapter 14 - Changes

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: each Friday at 6:00 pm CEST dst/UTC +2:00 on (link) Remarks: all my chapters contain carefully selected music tracks. It’s your own decision if you want to use them or not while reading. The purpose is to musically support the respective mood of the plot. If you can please use a browser for reading (not the Tumblr app) due to the text formatting and music.

Yelana caught the two boys from behind as they were telling jokes and laughing out loud instead of watching the herd. She cleared her throat audibly and the heads of both of them drove around scared. They both looked at her serious face and went white as a sheet.

Yelana's gaze wandered back and forth between them, then shrugged and said in a friendly voice, “You've got nothing to worry about, boys.” Their posture then relaxed a little. Then she pondered for a moment, swayed her head in her typical manner and finally looked at them a little arrogantly. “I need a reindeer, preferably saddled and harnessed, if possible please. I'm not that young anymore.”

The surprise reaction of the two of them was priceless for Yelana's taste, but didn't let on and grinned inside herself instead. The boys stood there frozen as if rooted to the ground and could not believe their ears.

“Come on, you two, I haven't got all day!” She made a wagging gesture and frowned apparently in annoyance.

The boys started moving and less than five minutes later a saddled reindeer was standing in front of her.

She took a closer look at the animal and the saddle and nodded contentedly at the end. Then she pushed her rod under the straps of the saddle and mounted. “Take good care of all of you,” she said to the boys standing there waiting and gave them a motherly look. Then she sighed and rode off without looking back another second.

“What did she mean by that? And why is she riding away anyway?” one of them asked.

“I haven't the faintest idea. I didn't even know she could ride,” replied the other.

Both gazed after her completely perplexed.

~~~

youtube

The wagon rumbled along and nobody spoke a word. Even Olaf remained silent and looked at the passing landscape with a transfigured look. Everyone was lost deep in their thoughts except Elsa, who had fallen asleep next to her.

How could she sleep so calmly; Anna thought, and pondered the upsetting events as she absent-mindedly watched the sunset. On any other day she would enjoy it, but today it seemed to her as if it announced a night of mischief.

What would this Kolgrimr do with the Northuldra once he realized that they were already long gone and he could no longer carry out whatever plans he had in mind. She feared for the people there and if Honeymaren was right in her suspicion, they could not defend themselves against his magical powers. They would all be helplessly at his mercy.

Slowly but constantly anger rose in her. Couldn't anything go right for once in her life? Did something terrible always have to happen to them and ended up being involved? She looked over to her sister and envied her. Elsa's face seemed completely relaxed, she even smiled slightly. Was she dreaming of Honeymaren? What was between them? Of course she would not mind if a romantic relationship developed between the two of them. She knew that Arendelle was quite open-minded about relationships of this kind, there was even a married female couple, Ada and Tuva Diaz with two adopted children. What was most important to her was Elsa's well-being and she wanted nothing more than the happiness for her sister.

And now someone thought he had the right to get revenge for something they were both not to blame for. Anna cursed and at the same moment, frightened by her behaviour, held her hand over her mouth. The next moment, she looked into Kristoff's eyes, who had turned around to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

“You curse? About what?” he asked curiously.

“Oh nothing, it's not that important,” she replied quickly, waving off and feeling the situation as embarrassing. Kristoff now raised his other eyebrow, too. Apparently he didn't quite believe her assertion.

“You know you can tell me anything, honey. Just say it out loud. If I don't know what it's about, I can't help you.”

Anna sat down and nodded her head a little bashfully at last. “Yes, dear, I know, and cursing isn't usually my style either. I was just thinking about this Kolgrimr and why it is always us who are in the middle of the action and risking our lives. What do you think about this whole thing? You have been quiet all the way back and don't seem particularly frightened to me.”

Kristoff shrugged his shoulders. “We made it out of the woods in time, if all this is true, and we'll be home soon.” Then he remembered the conversation with Ryder when he warned him and he said, “I'm not worried about myself, Anna, but if there's anyone I really care about, it's you, honey. If anything happens to you, that would be the end for me, I love you.”

Anna smiled, stood up briefly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Kristoff, my love. I love you too.”

They looked at each other in love for a while, and Anna actually forgot her worries about it. Eventually, he nodded with a smile and turned around again. She herself leaned back and closed her eyes. Maybe she could get some sleep after all; she thought.

~~~

They had not yet completed a third of the way home when Kristoff saw a covered wagon approaching in front of him at some distance. He turned around and pointed it out to the others.

“Wake up, folks! Look who's coming.”

Anna and Elsa startled up, then stretched their heads and looked ahead while Olaf climbed forward beside Kristoff. “Mattias is here!” he exclaimed excitedly and pointed forward.

“They were pretty fast, though,” Anna murmured and rubbed her stiff neck because she had dozed off in an uncomfortable position.

“You haven't told me much about him,” Elsa replied without looking at her. “Except that he rode back specially to get help for me.”

Anna looked at her smiling. “The General is one of the most loyal people I know, and a fine fellow too. You'll like him.”

Elsa nodded, “I'm already very curious about him.”

A few minutes later the two vehicles, standing now directly opposite each other, stopped. The two drivers sitting on the coach box looked quite surprised. Mattias rode past them and jumped briskly out of the saddle when he was next to Anna.

“Your Majesty!” he shouted joyfully and bowed to Anna, who was now standing up at the back of the wagon. “You guys are already on your way back so soon, then I presume your sister's doing well again?” He peered past Anna to have a look at Elsa. Elsa bent over, looked past Anna and waved at the General with her arm half raised. “Hello, General Mattias.” She smiled at him and mustered his appearance with quick glances without seeming immediately curious.

Trygve and Kristina rose as soon as they saw their queen, smiled and bowed to her while reciting the usual greeting. Anna nodded to them in a friendly manner, but suddenly her worries came back to her mind and her face darkened.

“I am very happy that you are feeling better, Elsa,” said Mattias and returned her smile. Then he looked up at Anna again and his smile faded when he noticed her concern in her face. “Queen Anna, are you alright? Has something happened?”

She nodded, sat down again to be largely at his eye level and said, “Unfortunately, yes, General. We were informed by Honeymaren of a serious threat and had to flee in haste. Someone is trying to kill us.”

Mattias tore open his eyes and gasped, “What? Who? Please tell me everything!” Anna explained in short words what she knew, and his face successively expressed his moods, from amazement to serious concern to clear anger.

“The Council must be informed immediately, and the garrison put on high alert. This can't be true!” He clenched his fists and turned to the covered wagon. “Turn the cart around immediately. We must return as quickly as possible. We are in imminent danger.”

Trygve's and Kristina's jaws dropped and they stared first at him and then at each other in disbelief. Kristina finally nodded and jumped off the trestle. The trail wasn't too wide here so she took the horse by the harness and pulled it slowly around to realign the cart. Then she got back on and waited for Mattias to would ride ahead of them to set the pace. She looked at Trygve with concern and he put a hand on her arm reassuring her.

“Your Majesty, if you agree, we will refrain from equipping Elsa with the camouflage clothes we brought with us, because of the hurry. We yet could also do that shortly before Arendelle.”

Anna nodded and looked briefly behind her. “I think you are right about this, Mattias. We are still near the Northuldra area, so we should hurry.” She gave her sister a quick sideways glance and squeezed her hand before looking at Mattias again. “But we are not yet returning to Arendelle. We have to make a little detour first.”

Mattias raised his eyebrows questioningly. “A detour? Where to?”

Anna bent over to him, looked at him with big eyes and replied quietly, “To the trolls, Mattias, to the trolls.”

The general's jaw dropped and he couldn't say anything more. The day had started so beautifully, and from one moment to the next, everything turned into a nightmare. Trolls ... this can't be true; he thought, and shook his head in disbelief.

~~~

He could have taken her to Gyda. Instead, he chose his hiding place by the river. He preferred not to take any risks and Honeymaren as a hostage was very valuable, even in two ways; he thought, when he recalled the scene on the beach with her and that Arendelle bitch. He grinned as he nudged the young woman in front of him to make her hurry up.

“Faster! Don't dally like that.”

She took a quick look over her shoulder, both angry and anxious. Her hands were tied behind her back and she almost tripped forward when her attention was briefly diverted. But she caught herself in time.

“Don't try any tricks,” he said in a low but threatening voice. She nodded, but didn't say a word. That's good; Kolgrimr thought, as long as she was afraid it was easier to keep her at bay. Less work and more time to make new plans.

He couldn't get that boy out of his head, that brave little guy and brother of his captive. How could it be that he had not sensed the slightest thing, not even when he had actively and intensely tried; he thought. It was almost as if a ghost apparition had stood before him. He gritted his teeth and clenched a fist. That was not good by any means. Not at all. Even with this strong-willed half breed from Arendelle, he was able to get to her spirit with a bit effort. But with him? There was absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. And that worried him immensely.

~~~

At nightfall they reached a small, well hidden kota. Light fog was in the air and a soft splash told Honeymaren that they had to be near a river. She also knew roughly in which direction they had gone, although she herself had never been in this part of the forest. Then she suddenly became aware of exactly where they were and she drew in the air sharply. The home of the earth giants!

She looked around briefly to Kolgrimr and he just nodded wordlessly in the direction of the kota. She walked to the entrance and stopped in front of it. He reached past her, pulled the flap open and pushed her in roughly, so that she fell to the bare ground inside. Then the flap closed again and she was sitting in the dark. She heard him tie the loop of the flap to the outside of the hut, then it was quiet.

She tried to spot something inside the kota, but all she saw was a pale shimmer in the opening above her. She tugged at her shackles but Kolgrimr had been very meticulous and she could not loosen them. If only she had her knife now, which she always carried hanging by her side; she thought. But he had taken it from her, of course.

She struggled herself up into a sitting position, crawled around and systematically searched the floor, hoping to find something useful. But there was nothing, not even a fur, that usually came with every good kota equipment. All right; she thought, let's try the walls. She stood up and moved along the wall with her shoulder as long until she felt like she had reached the starting point again. With her head she had also cautiously checked the wall in addition. But there was no hook and certainly not anything hanging to it to discover. She sighed unnerved and stayed stood leaning against the sloping wall for a while.

What was he up to? What would he do with her? Would he use brute force? Most likely, the way she judged him. She wasn't usually the frightened type, but she felt her eyes get wet and soon after that tears started to flow again. She sobbed softly and finally sank back to the floor. There was no escape for her, it seemed. She decided not to exchange a single word with him. She would remain mute. Even if he should slap her, he wouldn't get anything out of her.

The minutes passed in the silence of the darkness and the minutes became hours. It already had to be in the middle of the night when the rain started. At first she could only hear the soft sound the drops made as they dripped down onto the kota from the branches of the tree above. But it didn't take long and the sporadic dripping turned into a steady hissing as the sky finally opened its sluices completely.

The monotonous noise sounded very calming and soon it made her very tired. So she curled up on the uncomfortable, hard floor and fell gratefully asleep shortly afterwards.

~~~

---

I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know, except you are already tagged :-)

Tagging: @karma26 @whether-near-to-me-or-far @annaofthenorthernlights @igotelsapregnanthelp @the-fifth-spirit-elsa

#frozen #frozen2 #frozen3 #fanfic #epic novel #the broken bridge #part two #chapter 14 #bigfrozenfan

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xjoonchildx · 4 years ago

Text

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter five: italian leather gloves

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you. now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, smut

rating: 18+

word count: 6.0K

A/N: so the smut warnings start to go into effect in this chapter, guys! i can’t believe how many kind messages i’ve gotten about this story. please just know that i read every single one and i promise they all make me so happy. i really hope you guys like this chapter and i hope it answers some questions. of course i must thank the squad @ladyartemesia @taetaewonderland @ppersonna for being an amazing support system and kick ass beta readers. love you guys.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

****************

Everything hurts.

The moment you open your eyes, you wish you hadn’t. Late morning sun streams bright and unforgiving into your bedroom, making the ache in your temples even more pronounced. You spend a good ten minutes lying flat on your back, staring at the ceiling and remembering everything that went wrong last night.

So terribly, terribly wrong.

Your punishment today -- apart from the pounding headache and sour stomach -- is that despite doing your very best to drink yourself to blackout, you remember every minute of last night in painstaking detail. There’s a cruel clarity to the way your mind replays the awkward dinner with your boss and the confrontation with Donghyuk.

And your fight with Hoseok.

Shame curls in your gut when you recall the nasty things you’d said to try and get a rise out of him. The nasty things he’d said in return when your goading finally worked.

“People like me do the dirty work so people like you can impress rich assholes at stupid parties.”

It’s not like you didn’t already know Hoseok saw you as some kind of entitled rich bitch -- but that didn’t make hearing the words spoken out loud any easier. It didn’t make the anger you provoked in him any less jarring.

And it didn’t make the moment he saw your scar any less humiliating.

That’s when you feel like you might be sick -- when you remember the way Hoseok went completely still at the sight of your damaged skin. The way he’d tried so hard to look like he wasn’t staring and failed.

You get out of bed and slip an oversized sweatshirt over your head, take a few deep breaths to try and calm the wobbling sensation in your stomach.

That’s when it hits you.

You don’t smell coffee.

****************************

Kim Seokjin looks like he’s made himself quite at home when you finally work up the nerve to leave your bedroom. He’s reclined deep into your couch, long legs propped up on your living room table, tablet in hand. He looks up from the screen to take in your bedraggled appearance with wide eyes.

“Rough night, huh?”

“Something like that,” you say quietly. You make your way to the kitchen in search of a glass of water and Seokjin stands up from the couch to follow you.

“Hoseok, uh --”, he pauses for a moment, rubs one hand across the back of his neck, “ -- said he needed a couple of days to take care of some personal stuff.”

You pour lukewarm water into a glass, take one tentative sip and say nothing.

“So you’re stuck with me,” Seokjin continues slowly, “For a little while, anyway.”

You stare into your glass, unwilling to meet Seokjin’s eyes. It shouldn’t surprise you one bit that Hoseok took off after what happened between you last night. It probably shouldn’t hurt either.

But it does.

The little water you’ve managed to get down feels like it might come right back up.

“You okay?” Seokjin asks after a long pause.

“No,” you admit. “I don’t feel good. Probably going to stay in bed for the day, so it’ll be a quiet one for you.”

Seokjin nods sympathetically.

“You know what’s good for when you’re feeling sick?” he asks. “Samgyetang. I found some in your fridge. It’s pretty good too, kinda --”

Your stomach lurches at the mention of that goddamned soup.

You leave Seokjin mid-sentence to retch in the privacy of your bathroom.

*****************************

The next time you open your eyes, it’s to complete darkness.

You wake disoriented, not sure if you’ve slept for hours or for days. The last thing you remember after getting sick was barely getting down some painkillers and a little more water before crawling back into bed.

Then it was lights out.

Physically, you feel better. The hammering headache is gone and the motion sickness is gone with it. But as you lie awake in the darkness, there’s no way to escape your tumultuous thoughts. The ones that keep going back to Hoseok and that fight.

“People like me follow orders so people like you don’t have to.”

No doubt the story of how you left the Gajog has been distorted over the years, passed between gossips in some twisted game of telephone. No doubt the story that’s told now is not about the scared teenager desperate for any semblance of stability; it’s about some spoiled little girl who decided she was too good for everyone else.

“People like me stay behind and handle our responsibilities so people like you can walk away from yours.”

That was definitely the worst blow of the night, though.

There is just enough truth to that accusation to make it stick, to make it sting. You did walk away. You did leave your brother behind.

You run a hand through your hair and reach for your phone to check the time. 9:30 PM.

You feel almost human by the time you get out of the shower and walk out into the living room to find Seokjin dozing on the couch. You feel guilty for rousing him, but it’s his job. You know this is something you have to do right now.

“Jin,” you call out, nudging him gently. His eyes blink back, unfocused as he tries to get his bearings.

“Yeah?” he’s alert at once, looking around. “You okay?”

No, but I’m going to be.

“I’m alright. I need you to take me to see my brother.”

****************************

Namjoon has a beautiful penthouse on the water, a luxury apartment high above the Han River. But there’s no wife, no children waiting for him at home. Nothing in that place but echoing walls and modern art.

So he spends most of his nights at the office.

Seokjin called ahead, just in case -- but you knew your brother would be there. He’s still dressed in his suit, a tumbler of scotch in hand when you arrive. Seokjin doesn’t have to be asked to leave.

“You don’t look well, Amsaja,” he says quietly as you sit in the chair opposite his grand desk.

“You are not the first person to allude to that today,” you say with a humorless laugh. You look down at your giant sweatshirt and jeans, and shove a hand through your still-wet hair. “Message received.”

His eyes are soft with concern. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” you say, blowing out a heavy breath. “Everything. I just -- I just needed to see you.”

You were still a little girl when you learned the hard way that tears were futile and pointless and only served to make you a target. But you feel them welling in your eyes anyway. The reflex feels foreign and rusty after so many years of disuse.

“I’m so sorry, Namjoon,” you choke out, voice thick. “So, so sorry.”

Namjoon sets his tumbler down on the heavy wood of his desk, walks around it and over to you. When he gets down on one knee and reaches out a hand to brush your cheek you don’t see the grown man at the helm of Seoul’s largest criminal empire. You see the brother who took care of you when no one else would.

Despite your best efforts to stop them, the tears come anyway.

Namjoon holds you close, strokes your hair while you cry into the jacket of his expensive suit. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just waits for your body to stop shaking with the force of your sobs and for your breathing to even out.

“Why did you let me leave?” you ask once you’ve managed to regain some control. “Why didn’t you ask me to stay?”

Namjoon sighs, standing to stretch his legs. He grabs his drink before walking over to the window to peer down at the lights streaking by below.

“One of us deserved to have a choice,” he says quietly. “It was never going to be me. I didn’t want the same for you.”

Your heart breaks all over again, hearing Namjoon say those words out loud. Your brother, born into a legacy he never asked for and a responsibility he could never run from. Your protector who let you walk away from the life he couldn’t escape.

“You saved me,” you whisper. “He would have killed me if I hadn’t left Seoul.”

“I know that,” Namjoon admits, “I saw it coming, too. The worse his drinking got -- I couldn’t let that happen. I refused to let that happen.”

You stand out of the chair to walk over to the window. Your brother’s profile is illuminated by the passing lights, mouth set in a grim line.

“You forced him to let me go.”

It’s not a question. Namjoon nods.

“I told him I would disappear if he didn’t let you leave. And then what? He’d have spent his entire life grooming me for nothing. He was just weak enough from the drinking to agree. He couldn’t fight me on it anymore.”

You shut your eyes against the fresh tears that come.

“I’ve been so selfish.”

“We’re all selfish, Amsaja,” he sighs. “We all want things we can’t have. That’s human nature.”

It makes your chest squeeze -- how desolate that admission sounds. You think about your brother’s massive, empty apartment. Who takes care of him? Who does he have to talk to? You swallow past the taste of guilt in your mouth.

“We could leave all of this behind, Jaegyueo. Start over. Make our own choices this time.”

Namjoon huffs a sad laugh into the rim of his glass.

“How I got here is not the point anymore,” he says. “You think if I dismantled this organization right now that all of this would just stop?”

He turns away from the window to look you in the eye.

“There would be ten syndicates ready to fill the hole we would leave overnight. And I promise you,” he shakes his head, “None of them would conduct business as neatly as we do. This organization keeps everything from going to shit. This is our way of balancing the scales.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look back out the window, out to the lights that make the city glow at this time of night. You know your brother is right.

This is his destiny.

“You talk about being selfish,” he continues quietly, “How’s this for selfish? No matter how much you’ve suffered in the past, I still want you here by my side. I still want you to come back.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest.

“Namjoon, I --” He interrupts you with a raised hand.

“You don’t have to defend your stance. You have every right to leave this all behind you forever. Just know that you are the only person on this Earth that I trust without question.”

The ice in his scotch tinkles in the quiet of the office as he swirls the contents of the glass.

“Just know that there is a part of me that will always be waiting for you to come back.”

*********************

HOSEOK

Hoseok had to get out of there.

He had to put space between you and him or he was going to lose his mind.

Thankfully, Seokjin didn’t ask too many questions when he’d phoned in the middle of the night asking to be relieved for a few days. Seokjin didn’t press too hard when he asked about how you were doing and Hoseok nearly took his head off. And Seokjin hasn’t asked why Hoseok is texting him every day to make sure you’re alright.

Sometimes -- rarely -- Seokjin knows exactly when to shut the fuck up.

Hoseok knows he should be using this time to get his shit together.

He knows he’s this close to doing something stupid. He knows he’s got to figure out a way to release the pressure building inside of him before he explodes.

He thinks about how satisfying it would be to put his fist through Kang Donghyuk’s face.

He stares down the stone-and-glass entrance to Kang’s apartment from the driver’s seat of his car, one hand tight around the steering wheel. He tightens his grip on the wheel and loosens it, over and over and over.

A call comes through.

“Hey, it’s Jimin.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok says flatly, eyes never leaving the entrance to that apartment building. “What’s up?”

“I already briefed Namjoon but he wanted me to call you, too. We finally got a hit on Lee Hyejin.”

Hoseok sits up straighter in his seat.

“What did you find?”

“We got access to her accounts. Regular payments, every two weeks -- coming through an offshore wire. Started about three months ago.”

“Shit,” Hoseok says under his breath. “A Ssijog account?”

“We’re still working on confirming that -- but yeah, like 99% sure.”

Hoseok scrubs a hand down his face.

Who gets to break the news to you that your only friend has been fucking with your case -- fucking with your entire life? He thinks back to how blank and despondent you’d looked the night of the snake incident, how withdrawn you’d been the night of the charity dinner.

How much more of this pressure can you withstand before you explode?

“What about the guy?” Jimin asks, after the line is silent for too long. “Any news on him?”

“Not yet,” Hoseok murmurs, tightening his grip around the wheel again. “But it’s coming. I know it’s coming.”

“Okay. Tae is still trying to get a complete list of accounts linked to that offshore one. If we find out more, I’ll make sure you know right away.”

Hoseok ends the call just as another call comes in.

He takes one look at the screen and rubs his fingers across his tired eyes before sending it to voicemail.

He knows he could have handled the situation with Dae with more care. He knows he could have done more than end their casual arrangement with one call. Dae had been furious, demanding he give her some kind of explanation so she could understand why it was over.

Hoseok hadn’t been lying to her when he said he didn’t know why.

But as he sits in the dark -- staring at the entrance of Kang Donghyuk’s apartment building -- he considers for a moment that he might have been lying to himself.

His phone rings again.

“Jung,” Namjoon’s voice comes over the line. “You in the middle of something?”

“Nah,” Hoseok lies easily. “Just relaxing. What’s up?”

“Come have a drink with me.”

*********************

It’s nearly midnight by the time Hoseok makes it across town.

Namjoon appears to be in a contemplative mood tonight, glass of scotch in hand, long body leaned back into his plush chair.

“You’re off-duty tonight,” Namjoon says, taking a sip of his drink. “Scotch?”

Hoseok makes a face.

“Definitely not. Have any whiskey?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve got a bottle around here somewhere.”

Namjoon picks up his desk phone to reach his assistant, who makes quick work of finding a bottle and a clean glass. She delivers both with practiced silence before slipping out of the room.

Hoseok can’t help but notice his boss’s gaze lingering on the pretty young woman as she retreats. He keeps his mouth shut because he’s not an idiot.

Once he has a tumbler of whiskey in hand, Hoseok leans back into his own chair, undoes the top buttons of his dress shirt.

“Something specific you want to talk about?” he asks, sipping his drink.

“Just checking in,” Namjoon says quietly. “I’ve barely seen you these past few weeks. Want to make sure everything’s alright where you’re concerned.”

“I’m fine,” Hoseok says. “Jimin called me about the shit he found on the Lee girl, though.”

“Yeah. I don’t think my sister’s going to take that news well,” Namjoon murmurs. “She’s not exactly the trusting type. A betrayal like this -- ”

He trails off, abandoning one thought for another.

“Does she talk to you?”

Hoseok clears his throat.

He tries not to think about the last time he saw you and the terrible things you’d said to one another. He tries not to remember the look on your face before you turned away from him.

“Not really. Keeps to herself a lot.”

“Yeah, well. She’s had to put up with a lot of shit over the years,” Namjoon admits, rubbing his fingers across his lips. “She keeps things close to the vest.”

Hoseok sags deeper into the plush chair and takes a drink, welcomes the burn that comes with it. He already knows Namjoon is not looking for some kind of dialogue tonight. Namjoon is looking to unload.

Hoseok keeps quiet and lets him do just that.

“My sister has been punished for things beyond her control since the day she was born,” he continues. “My role was clear from day one and hers much less so. My father was too ignorant to figure out how to raise a little girl without a mother and too disinterested to even ask for help.”

Hoseok’s fingers tighten around his glass.

“She spent half her time trying to get his attention and the other half regretting when she finally did.”

The image of that scar comes into Hoseok’s mind, unbidden. The jagged lines of it, the deep indent of it. All of the tiny details that speak to the brutality behind the wound.

“He hurt her,” Hoseok says quietly, looking past Namjoon to stare out into lights outside the window.

“A thousand different ways,” Namjoon sighs, shoving a hand through his hair. “I did what I could, but I couldn’t keep her from all of it.”

The ice in his glass tinkles as he empties his drink.

“I know what people say about my sister, Hoseok,” Namjoon exhales. “None of them know what they’re talking about. She was going to be damned either way. She did what she had to do to survive.”

Hoseok swallows the last of his whiskey around the knot in his throat.

************************

He almost took the night off.

Hoseok’s body could have used the rest, and his mind certainly could have, too. But every time he closes his eyes he sees you, hears your brother’s words.

The pressure inside him keeps building.

He woke up this morning thinking about that photograph inside Namjoon’s desk -- the one taken inside your apartment. The one taken while you were sleeping and at your most vulnerable, inside your own home.

Every cell in Hoseok’s body is telling him that Kang Donghyuk took that picture.

That’s why he’s in his car tonight, following Kang home from the office again. That’s why he’s pulled into a space just outside the man’s high-dollar highrise prepared for another night of waiting and watching.

Fuck, he’ll do it every night until he gets the answers he’s looking for.

A call comes in from Seokjin.

“Hey,” Hoseok answers on the first ring. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin sighs. “Quiet. She’s busy working in her room or something. Why do I have the feeling you’re not at your place taking the personal time you said you needed?”

“Mind your business,” Hoseok mutters.

Seokjin laughs.

“Honestly, I just called because I’m bored. Wondering if you ever plan on coming back to your post. I’m going out of -- “

“-- Shit,” Hoseok interrupts, sitting up straight in his seat. “I gotta go.”

He ends the call before Seokjin can ask why.

Hoseok squints against the dark when he sees Kang Donghyuk walk out of the entrance to his building. Kang stands on the curb, hands shoved into the pockets of his dress pants. Even from a distance, Hoseok can see he’s looking up and down the street.

He’s waiting for someone.

Hoseok’s entire body is tense as he watches a sleek silver car pull up outside the building’s entrance and Kang slip into the passenger seat. The car takes off and Hoseok’s pulse picks up.

This is it.

He waits until the sedan is a few hundred feet ahead to pull out into the street. He’s careful to keep pace with the surrounding traffic so he doesn’t give himself away. And after a short drive, the silver car parks outside a run-down warehouse in one of the shittier parts of the city.

Hoseok pulls into a dark space, cuts the ignition and hides the bright display of his phone.

He watches Kang Donghyuk get out of the passenger seat, followed by the driver of the car. A man Hoseok recognizes as Ssijog right away. The men have a short conversation in the street before disappearing into the warehouse.

Hoseok’s hand tightens around the steering wheel, then loosens. Again and again and again.

He knows the protocol. He knows he should have called this in five minutes ago.

He hasn’t.

He won’t.

Instead, he reaches into the console to pull out his favorite pair of Italian leather gloves.

*************************

Dressing the part has always served Hoseok well, even in this line of work.

Tonight -- his meticulously chosen suit and tie are his ticket inside Kang Donghyuk’s secure high-rise apartment building. Hoseok walks right past the security guard on duty so casually that the man barely looks in his direction.

It takes him only a few minutes to find the door to Kang’s apartment and the entrance to the service elevator nearby. Hoseok stands back into the recess and balls his hands into fists. He concentrates on the stretch of his leather gloves.

Then he waits.

Kang Donghyuk doesn’t keep him waiting long.

Just a short while later, he’s at his apartment door, fumbling with his keys. Hoseok waits until he nudges the door open before making his approach.

One firm hand to the back of the neck and one firm shove is all it takes.

Kang Donghyuk falls through the entrance to his apartment just as Hoseok is closing the door behind him. He rolls onto his back on the floor, eyes wide and sputtering.

“What the fuck man?”

Hoseok doesn’t bother to answer that.

He pulls out his pistol and points the barrel at the cowering man. Kang’s pupils blow wide and Hoseok feels a pulse of satisfaction at his obvious fear.

“Start talking,” Hoseok says, voice low and controlled.

“About what?” Kang squeaks -- voice slipping out an octave too high.

Hoseok clicks the pistol’s safety into place and off again just to ensure Kang hears the sound. The coward reacts immediately, covering his face with his hands.

“Alright man, I’ll talk. Just chill -- “ he wheezes. “I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.”

“I need to know everything, Kang,” Hoseok says between clenched teeth. “Start fucking talking.”

Donghyuk sits up slowly, hands raised and eyes fixed on Hoseok.

“They came to me a few months back. All they said is they wanted her to fuck up the case. That’s all, I swear.”

There’s no feeling of satisfaction for Hoseok when he hears the words spoken aloud. There’s no victory in confirming the guy he thought was a piece of shit all along is actually a piece of shit.

The pressure inside him continues to build.

“You’re working with the Lee girl?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuk admits miserably, eyes unmoving from the barrel of Hoseok’s gun. “She would help me make copies of her keys and shit. She knew where the important files were, too. I mostly had to keep her out of the apartment when they needed to get in and -- ” he clears his throat, “ -- other stuff.”

Hoseok sees red.

Fury ignites inside of him at the innuendo packed into those two short words. His pistol seems to warm in his hand.

“You took that picture,” he whispers, finger tightening around the trigger. Donghyuk winces, swallows so hard Hoseok can see his Adam's apple jump in his throat.

“Yeah,” Donghyuk admits, curling in on himself. “They asked me to.”

Hoseok turns the gun in his hand so fast Donghyuk barely has the time to put his hands over his face again. He cracks the butt of his pistol against the side of Donghyuk’s skull and the man whimpers as he rolls over in pain.

The pistol whip should have been enough to take the edge off of Hoseok’s rage.

But it’s not enough.

He holsters his gun and Donghyuk stares up at him from the floor, terrified.

“Get up,” Hoseok hisses.

Blood has started to seep from a gash on the side of Donghyuk’s head but the man complies. He stumbles to his feet just in time for Hoseok to take him off balance again. He wraps one hand around the man’s throat and squeezes tight, pushing him back against a wall.

Donghyuk’s eyes bulge as Hoseok pins him to the wall with that hand.

“Never, ever --” Hoseok spits the words, grip crushing the man’s neck, “-- go near her again. Do you understand me? That’s not something I have to repeat even for someone as stupid as you, right?”

Donghyuk’s face is mottled, features frozen in fear as he attempts to nod his agreement.

Hoseok tightens his grip and the man starts to turn a satisfying shade of red. The color deepens as Hoseok squeezes harder and all he can think about is how easy it would be to end him, how just a few more seconds of this pressure could cause his windpipe to collapse. How one more hard press of his fingers could solve the problem of Kang Donghyuk forever.

But protocol.

Hoseok finally releases his grip on the man’s throat and Kang immediately slumps down the wall, into a pile on the floor. He gasps, hands clutched to his chest as he fights to regain his breath.

Hosok stands back, straightening his coat and adjusting his jacket underneath.

He gives Kang Donghyuk one last glance before walking to the door.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he warns quietly. “I’d hate to have to pay you another visit.”

Hoseok waits for the door to click closed before pulling out his phone to call Namjoon in the quiet of the hallway. He’s a little breathless when his boss picks up on the first ring.

“Regarding Kang Donghyuk,” he murmurs. “There’s been a development.”

**********************

Namjoon’s call comes late the next afternoon.

“Hey,” Hoseok breathes into the receiver, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear. He drops his hand back into the bowl of ice water at his side. “What’s up?”

“I need you to come in,” his boss says evenly. “So we can discuss next steps.”

“Be there in ten.”

It’s a little pathetic, the way Hoseok perks up at having somewhere to be.

Even meeting with his boss to explain how he broke protocol and nearly choked a man to death beats sitting in his apartment, icing his sore hand. It sure as hell beats sitting on his couch, staring at the TV and trying not to think about you.

Namjoon takes the news of Kang’s involvement and Hoseok’s insubordination surprisingly well.

He’d listened to Hoseok’s account of how he’d tracked Kang to the warehouse and ambushed him outside his apartment with quiet calm. Maybe it’s his imagination, but Hoseok could swear he almost saw Namjoon smile when he described pistol-whipping Kang inside his apartment.

Yoongi -- pragmatic as ever -- laid the options out plainly.

He argued that the Gajog could get rid of either Lee Hyejin or Kang Donghyuk, but not both. Killing both, Yoongi reasoned, would put an entirely different kind of target on your back. Both Hoseok and Namjoon agreed with that assessment. Yoongi has always had a mind for strategy, even if his delivery leaves a bit to be desired.

Namjoon promised to think over the options before dismissing them both.

*************************

Hoseok’s hand still aches.

He’s been driving around the city for more than an hour now, not ready to go home and not certain which move to make next. Each turn of his steering wheel sends a throb of discomfort through his grip.

Fucking up Kang Donghyuk was satisfying, no doubt. But it’s not enough.

Hoseok doesn’t feel the sense of relief he’d expected to enjoy after choking that man to within an inch of his life. There’s still a dull ache inside his chest too insistent to ignore.

He tries to focus on the street signs that come and go, the traffic lights that glow against the backdrop of the setting sun. He drives until the night takes over completely and then he drives until he parks outside of your place.

When Hoseok cuts the ignition, it’s like he’s just come out of a fog. He looks up at your high-rise and takes a deep breath before climbing out of the car.

******************

Seokjin’s bag must have already been packed.

After a quick debrief he’s out the door in seconds, leaving Hoseok alone inside the quiet apartment. He sinks down onto the couch and stares at your closed bedroom door.

He should knock, he thinks to himself.

He should get the apology sitting on the tip of his tongue out of the way so the two of you can move forward from what happened the other night. He should apologize for the way he’s treated you and he should beg for your forgiveness.

Hoseok scrubs a hand down his face before resolving to do just that -- at the same time your bedroom door opens. He watches you walk to the kitchen without so much as a glance in his direction and then he hears the sound of running water.

He follows you.

Hoseok worries for a split-second that you might drop the glass in your hand when you finally spot him.

“Oh,” you breathe, “It’s you.”

Hoseok thought the last time he’d seen you -- when you’d worn that incredible gown and pulled out every stop -- he thought that was the most beautiful you’d ever looked. But somehow that pales in comparison to how you look right now, figure swimming in an oversized sweatshirt, hair loose and framing your bare face. He can’t even bring himself to look lower because you’re wearing those godforsaken shorts. Has Seokjin seen you in those things?

His brain derails and it takes a moment to get back on track.

“Sorry,” he says slowly. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m back now.”

“Okay,” you exhale, setting your glass of water down.

“I’m sorry.”

Hoseok had planned on saying something a bit more heartfelt, something with a bit more depth. He had not intended on blurting out his apology the moment he saw you.

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me,” you say softly. “I don’t want your pity or anyone else’s.”

Hoseok steps closer and you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, a nervous gesture.

“That’s not what I said,” he insists, shaking his head. “I’m not sorry for you, I’m sorry for me. I’m sorry because I’m a fucking jerk.”

You blink back at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry -- ” Hoseok takes another step forward, “ -- that you have to put up with assholes like me who think they know everything about you when they really don’t know anything.”

Hoseok ignores the voice inside his head warning him not to press you too hard, not to take this too far.

“I’m sorry anyone has ever tried you because I promise you they are going to pay,” he vows, stepping even closer.

You lean back against the heavy stone of your kitchen island, eyes wide.

“And fuck -- ” Hoseok practically chokes the words out, “-- fuck, I am so sorry for wanting you as badly as I do when I know I have no right.”

There is a moment after those words tumble out when Hoseok thinks he may have just fucked everything up for good. A moment when your mouth drops open but you say nothing and Hoseok is certain you’re going to make him leave.

But you don’t.

So he kisses you.

Hoseok swallows the sound of surprise you make when he slants his lips over yours. You reach your hands around his neck to pull him closer and go up on your tiptoes to make up for the difference in height. Hoseok groans into your mouth when your nails scrape against the back of his neck.

Any moment now -- any moment now he’s certain you’re going to come to your senses. You’re going to demand he take his filthy fucking hands off of you. He braces for it.

But you don’t.

Instead, you melt into his touch and whimper into his mouth and what’s left of Hoseok’s sanity evaporates. The sounds of panting and groaning echo off of the stone in the kitchen as you meld your body to his.

“I want you so much,” he whispers, gripping your waist to lift you onto the counter.

It’s easy to ignore the way his hand aches in protest when you’re wrapping your legs around his waist and sinking your fingers into his hair. His cock is so hard in his pants he feels like he might explode.

You pull away from him, breathless, to lift your sweatshirt over your head and Hoseok’s chest tightens at the flash of doubt that crosses your features. The heat that creeps into your cheeks when your scar is bared and on display.

He leans close to brush feather-light kisses against it, lips soft against the rough skin. “Every inch of you is perfect,” he whispers, sucking gently at the indent in your collarbone. “Just the way it is.”

You suck in a sharp breath and release it with a strangled sigh as your fingers grip the back of Hoseok’s neck. He trails kisses from your scar, slowly down your breast, onto one aching nipple.

“Hoseok -- please,” you beg. “I want -- “

Your plea breaks apart he takes your nipple into his mouth, teeth teasing at the straining bud.

“Tell me what you want,” Hoseok murmurs, burying his face into the soft skin between your breasts, “Tell me and I swear to God, I’ll give it to you.”

Your fingers fumble for his belt and Hoseok groans when you work it apart. There’s no way he’s ever been this hard -- ever. He’s certain he could come just from rutting against the counter with your voice in his ear.

“Hoseok,” you whisper again. “Hoseok -- “

He doesn’t catch on to the panic in your tone until you go rigid in his arms.

“There’s someone at the door,” you whisper, eyes wide.

“Shit.”

Hoseok shuts his eyes, leans his forehead against yours.

You slip out of his hold and he leans over the kitchen counter, arms braced against the stone while he tries to collect the last remaining scraps of his self-control. You pull your sweatshirt back overhead and run quietly to the door.

You’re back only a moment later.

“It’s my brother,” you whisper. “And Yoongi and some guy I don’t know.”

Holy shit.

Hoseok grits his teeth, takes a deep breath, and silently wills his rigid cock to stand down. Thinking about Kim Namjoon’s face on the other side of that door helps, actually. It helps a lot.

The door knocker thuds again loudly and Hoseok can hear Namjoon’s voice coming from the hallway. You wait until he’s managed to straighten his shirt and secure his belt before opening the door.

He can see your brother’s frown from ten feet away.

“Hoseok should really be the one to answer the door, Amsaja,” he says, eyes narrowed. “Is he not here?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Hoseok calls out, hoping like hell that his voice sounds even. “Sorry. I was just -- uh, in the middle of something.”

Actually, I was trying to be in the middle of something. That something being your sister. That’s not going to be a problem, is it?

Yoongi looks between you and Hoseok and Namjoon but says nothing.

“So what’s going on?” Hoseok asks, desperate to move the conversation along. “Something wrong?”

“Jeon is going to stay over tonight,” Namjoon says, pointing to the youngest man on his team. Jungkook walks into the apartment and bows to you before taking a seat on the couch.

Namjoon nods at Yoongi before turning to Hoseok.

“The three of us have somewhere to be.”

**********************

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