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coffee-obsessed-writer · 2 years

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The Pact - Part 10

Sam Winchester x Crowley's!Daughter Reader

Gothic AU

Series Summary: Lord Samuel Winchester has lost the love of his life due to the actions of the Demon King, Crowley. As he plots secret revenge, his father, the King of Lawrence, decrees that Sam will wed Crowley’s daughter in order to unite the two families to protect the sacred ground the Winchester’s Kingdom is built upon.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Crowley’s Daughter!Reader

Other Characters: John Winchester, Crowley, Rowena, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Pamela Barnes, Jessica Moore (deceased)

Chapter Summary: Sam and his wife are on the run, John and Crowley are at odds on how to proceed in finding their children. However, while they are too wrapped up in their own agendas, the greatest danger is still out there lurking.

WC: 11.9K

Warnings: Implied smut, childbirth, blood.

A/N: At the end of the Chapter.

Also a HUGE thank you to my bestie @kazosa, if it wasn’t for her, this story wouldn’t exist. She’s helped me with this from the very beginning, so this is just as much her story, as it is mine.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Crowley’s Daughter!Reader

Other Characters: John Winchester, Crowley, Rowena, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Pamela Barnes, Jessica Moore (deceased)

The days following the party were passing slowly. Bobby and Pamela tried to devise a plan of action, and once they felt good about where you and Sam should go, the Rift Storm made it impossible to leave the hut. On the third day, Bobby felt safe enough to travel back to the castle to see how much fallout there was, and if the King was still standing.

On the morning of the fourth day, you woke to find your husband, conferring with Pamela outside the hut, speaking in hushed voices. You knew how scared Sam was for your well being, but as much as he tried to hide it, he had concern for his father as well. The impulse to eavesdrop on their conversation was strong, but the love you had for Sam was enough to trust that their conversation was not meant for your ears, so you went into the small area Pamela used as a kitchen.

Putting the old, cast iron kettle to the fire, you went about fixing some herbal tea to hopefully calm your unsettled stomach. Unsure if it was from the stress of the situation, or the baby that grew inside you, either way you knew that traveling by horseback would make it worse if you didn’t do something to try and calm it. The night before, you and Sam had gathered the few things Pamela had given you for supplies, and prepared it all to leave that day. Pamela and Bobby knew of a place, well hidden in the Elven Woods, that you could call home for the time being. Pamela’s impatience to once again move locations was growing stronger, and she made no attempt to hide it from either of you.

When the kettle was ready, you sat at the same table where she had read you days before. As the scalding water slowly poured into the teapot, Sam and Pamela made their way inside, and smiled when they saw you making the tea.

“Sure you’re not a psychic yourself?” Pamela asked and groped to find the chair to pull out and sit down.

“I wish,” you mused and began to share the tea into cups as Sam came around to you, lovingly kissed the top of your head, and took the seat beside you. “My stomach is queasy, thought this would help before we have to leave. This tea seems to help.”

“I made sure you had some in your pack,” Pamela smiled and gratefully took the tea that you guided towards her hands. “You should have everything you need in there. But, that area of the woods should have a lot growing wild you could use. Berries, herbs, mushrooms, along with some very poisonous roots, so–”

“Be careful,” you finished for her. “I know, I’ve made sure to know my herbs. Well, Rowena made sure I learned them.”

Pamela grunted a sigh and sipped at her tea. “Yes, Rowena. I know she’s your grandmother, but, Y/N, you know that she is a witch who’s magic isn’t always on the up and up. Trusting her…”

“Oh, I know that, too. Despite her being relatively kind to me over the years, I can sense her darkness. I know she and my father despise each other. But that doesn’t mean I would trust her outright. She’ll help me as long as there isn’t a higher purpose that would serve her better.”

“Well, as long as you keep your guard up, you should be fine. Besides, even she couldn’t find the spot where you’re going.”

The way Pamela said it, made you feel uneasy. You shared a pensive glance with Sam before going back to drinking your tea.

“Where is that, exactly?” Sam asked.

“Not too far, but the whole place is warded. Grounds and all. Even if Rowena were to cast her most powerful location spell, she would not be able to find you.”

“I wouldn’t put it past Crowley to ask her to do just that,” you replied, knowing that your father will do whatever he needs to find you.

“I promise, you’ll be protected there. It's one of my safe houses, a small cottage out on the outskirts of the woods. Should there be any trouble, there’s an escape route through the root cellar. I’ll show you when we get there.”

As you had worried, the ride through the woods was a bit rougher than you had hoped. Remnants of the Rift Storm were high enough that every so often the horses would feel the electricity in the air and get spooked. Sam insisted that you ride with him, in case one of the horses tried to rear up and throw you off. You wanted to say no, but could see the worry etched into his sweet face, and couldn’t deny him. All he wanted was for you and your son to be safe, and you would not add to his concern.

The roof of the cottage came into view and it struck you as familiar. Looking at your surroundings, you realized that you were nearing the same place you and Sam had run into on your first outing into the woods. Far off to your right was that tree you had encountered that day, and now realized why you had been so drawn to it. It must have held a powerful warding, and that kind of energy would easily have given you the feeling you felt emitting from it.

Pamela pulled up the reigns on her mare, and Sam followed suit on Dean’s prize stallion.

“This is the place,” she said as she carefully dismounted the horse. She had been leading the third horse, carrying the supply packs, and led them over to the post on the side of the cottage to tie them up. “Haven’t been here in a while, but I think you’ll find it cozy.”

“Oddly enough,” Sam started, dismounted, then reached for your hand to help you down, “we have been here.”

“What?” Pamela turned and asked sharply. “When?”

“Feels like a lifetime ago,” he mused, then looked softly in your direction, “but maybe a few weeks ago. It was right after the wedding. Y/N and I came out here…” Sam paused, his expression falling into something more somber. He still had your hands in his and gave them a loving squeeze. “My Lady, I don’t feel as if I apologized enough for that day. What I did… then, for you to so easily forgive me and help me the way you did. I cannot imagine, with things as they are now, that I ever tried to…”

You brought his hands to your lips and left a soft kiss. “Husband, I’ve forgotten all about it. We didn’t know then that we would really fall in love, and be grateful for this arrangement. You were angry, and you lashed out. I know that feeling, so how could I not forgive you.”

“Ok lovebirds, let’s get inside so this one can rest. I know you’re not far along, but you will find your energy low, a lot. And something tells me you are going to need that energy to get through this pregnancy.”

As the months passed, and as the season began to change from the summer warmth to an autumn chill, the swell of your stomach also grew. The first few weeks had flown by in great contrast to the first few days after the party. Once Pamela had left you and Sam on your own, you hadn’t seen her again. She made quick work of packing up her things and disappearing into the breeze. Bobby did come by several times with fresh supplies of food and clothing, along with some herbal medicines he thought necessary to keep you healthy and strong through your pregnancy.

The first time Bobby arrived, Sam grilled him about the King, but Bobby would always be vague and sparse with the information. All he would say is that John was still in power, but there had been a surge of unrest throughout Lawrence. Bobby promised it was handled, and that Sam’s only concern should be laying low and caring for you. Once you had asked about Crowley, and all Bobby could do was shake his head and shrug. It was a relief of course, but also left a bad taste in your mouth. If Crowley wasn’t out causing trouble to find your location, he must be up to something even bigger, and that didn’t sit well with you or Sam.

Finally, settled into your quiet lives at the cottage, you and Sam found time to just be together. In all the chaotic aftermath of the party, you didn’t realize how much you both needed it. For once, there were no formalities; no reason to stand on occasion for the King or your father, and it felt wonderful. Most days, your mornings started off with tea and freshly baked bread brought to you in bed, with a bouquet of wildflowers. Sam’s hip continued to hold strong, so he would go out and chop as much firewood as he could to make sure you’d be stocked through the fall and winter.

For as big as your belly had grown, you still insisted on doing your part to keep the quaint home in order. Living this calm, domestic life was all you never realized you wanted. The grandeur of the Winchester castle had enamored you, but this slow, less materialistic life was just what you needed. One of the last warm days of early autumn, Sam was out hunting, hoping to bring back a deer. You decided to make a pie with the fresh berries that he had gathered the day before as a surprise for him. When he passed through the doors empty handed, he slumped down into the chair at the table and grunted.

“I had one in my sights, but a damn murder of crows flew overhead and spooked it.”

“Awww, my poor husband,” you crooned and wiped the flour from your hands before going to him. Carefully sitting across his lap, you kissed his pouty lips and smiled. “We have plenty in storage for now.”

“I know, but I was hoping more for the pelt so I could have it dried and ready in time to give you as an extra blanket. It’s going to start getting cold soon.”

“Oh, well,” you smirked and placed your arms around his neck, “I can think of other ways for you to keep me warm.”

Sam’s expression brightened, and when he smiled it showed off his dimples. Something that still made your heart skip a beat. He pulled you in a little closer and tipped his face up to yours. “Now, that’s a fantastic solution.”

As you leaned down to kiss him again, his arms held you tighter, and the desire for him to take you to bed ran through you like a warm summer wind. He must have had the same feeling, because you could see his desire burning in his eyes. Pregnant or not, it had not stopped the two of you from exploring each other in ways that you never would have been able to living at the castle. Here, you were freer with each other; taking any and every opportunity to act on the passion that continued to grow.

Sam’s hand ran up your back and tangled into your hair, pressing your lips down to his greedily. A soft moan escaped you as his tongue parted your mouth, wanting as much of you as he could get. You let him, because you wanted him at that moment more than anything. Sam pulled back, his eyes wandering over your features as his fingers continued to stroke through your hair.

“I don’t know how I got so lucky,” he started, then brushed a stray lock of hair that had fallen across your face. “Through everything, the pact, the wedding, our fathers, that party… it was all worth it because in the end, I have you. I’m still angry with John, but having you as my wife, the mother of my child, brings me so much happiness. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, husband. I promise you, your son and I will always be by your side. No matter what happens. When I was Crowley’s pawn living in that godforsaken place, I would dream of what it would be like to live anywhere else. I would picture big, beautiful places, like Winchester castle, or a posh home somewhere near the sea. I even thought I would be happier as a peasant on the streets, as long as I wasn’t there. But this life here that we’ve made, is better than anything I could have thought of. Because not once in any of those past day dreams did I imagine that I would have a man like you by my side.”

Sam slowly began to stand up from the chair, making sure you were safely on your feet before fully rising. He reached around behind your neck and untied the apron you had on. He noticed the ingredients on the counter and the messy apron and smiled. “Do you think you could finish your pie later?”

Looking back over your shoulder, forgetting that you had even wanted to bake, you turned back to Sam with a playful smirk.

“Pie? What pie? Besides, I think there is something in the bedroom I need to show you…”

Removing the apron and tossing it aside, you began to unbutton your dress as you walked backwards towards the room. Sam quickly followed, removing his boots and some of his clothes along the way. His eyes never left you. By the time you reached the bedroom, he was pawing at the clothes you had remaining, skillfully taking them off and throwing them aside.

The room itself was dark, only illuminated by the fading light coming through the drawn curtains. It was enough though, that you could see your husband standing before you completely nude and very ready to take you to bed. His eyes continued to wander over your body as his lips pulled into one of the smiles that made you weak in the knees. Sam bent down to one knee, and lovingly kissed your swollen belly, before rising and kissing up to your breast, then neck. The intensity you both had a moment ago wasn’t as strong, but the desire was. He swept you up into his arms, carried you around the side of the bed and gently laid you down.

Sam crawled onto the bed beside you and his hands excitedly caressing your skin, and caused a shudder of anticipation. You wanted to wrap yourself around him, but he shook his head and gently pushed you onto your back so he could have access to all of you. The amount of love that had grown between you, resulted in a shared lust that felt impossible to maintain. Anytime Sam touched you, even in a casual way, made you ache for him. He had been a ravenous lover; sometimes animalistic, other times, gentle and sweet. That night he took you into his arms and made love to you more than once, each time bringing you to a place of ecstasy and unsure if your body could handle any more.

Eventually, both of you caved to rest, and you fell asleep tangled up in each other; content and peaceful. When you woke the next morning, he was still next to you softly snoring. It was the first time in a while he hadn’t woken before you and greeted you with breakfast in bed. Wanting to return the favor, you quietly got up from the bed and put on the cotton robe lying across the chair by the window. Peeking outside after putting it on, you could tell it would be another beautiful day. There wouldn’t be too many more like it, so you thought maybe you would join Sam out on a hunt later, if he didn’t object. He did like to be out there on his own, but after the night you two had shared, you didn’t want to spend the day apart.

Going about the small kitchen, you fixed a tray of buttered bread, strawberry jam and tea, and cooked a few of the deer sausages you had made with Sam’s last Buck he brought back. The aroma of the food caused your stomach to growl, making you realize that the nausea hadn’t come that morning. You felt hungry for more than the usual bland breakfast you’d been eating. You felt strong and clear headed, definitely ready for a day outside in the sun and fresh air helping your husband hunt and gathering more herbs.

Sneaking back into the room, you stepped on one of the old floorboards, causing it to creak loudly. Sam stirred and and opened his eyes to see you with the tray of food, and the robe opened enough to be revealing a lot of skin.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting my dreams from last night to come true, but here we are,” he chuckled and pushed himself up to sitting.

You placed the tray beside him and took your spot back on the bed. “Thought I would bring you breakfast for once. I mean, after last night, I imagined you would need some sustenance this morning.”

“Boy, do I.” He rubbed his hands together excitedly and picked up one of the sausages, popping it into his mouth. “And you, dear wife? How are you feeling this morning?”

“Like I could conquer the world,” you said, a dreamy smile unfolding across your lips. “I haven’t felt this good in ages. The little one is behaving and not causing me to want to run outside, sick. So, I want to take advantage of this good feeling and join you today, if that’s okay.”

“Join me? What, out hunting?”

“Yes. You know I can handle a bow, right?”

“Oh, I know you can handle anything. I had planned on going further out though. Are you sure you want to be that far from the cottage?”

“Yes, why not?”

Sam hesitated in his response, and took another piece of sausage. Once he finished with it, he took your hand and his worried expression said everything he couldn’t seem to say.

“Samuel, I do not fear your father or mine. It’s been months, and I’ve stayed close to the cottage any time I’ve gone out. I understand why you’re worried, but I am feeling restless. Besides, I don’t want to be away from you today. Last night, the way you made love to me…” you paused and felt your face flush with a bit of embarrassment, “let’s just say if I had any doubts about your feelings towards me, they were extinguished after that.”

“Were there? Doubts, I mean.”

“No, I’ve trusted your feelings for me for a while now. And as time goes on, and our baby grows, I am more and more sure of them.”

“Good. Because they are as real as it gets. I worry though. I worry not just about the threat looming, but that you will tire of this life. Being on the run, not living in the castle with the huge bed, the servants… not able to take your place as Queen like you should be. We have to make our clothes and make our own bread. Hunt for our meat. It’s not an easy life, and I know this is not the life you thought we’d have.”

“No, it’s not. This life is far better. I don’t need opulence and titles to be happy, Sam. I just need you and our son.”

“Speaking of our son,” he said and placed a hand on your belly, “I think it's time he has a name.”

“Hmmm, that’s a good point. I know tradition is to name a first born son after one of his grandfathers, but given that our fathers are both reprehensible men, maybe we could skip that tradition.”

“Agreed,” Sam laughed. “He deserves a good name, one that will represent his character and strength. Which I know he will have because of you.”

“And you… my husband. This boy of ours will be strong, both in physical matters and in his sense of self. He will be brave, and stand up for those who need it. He will defy traditions and carve out a life for himself he can be proud of. He will be a man of his word, and be empathetic to the plight of those who need his favor. For the woman he loves, he will be kind and gentle. For the people who follow him, he will be fair and loyal. But to those who wrong him or his family, he will be ruthless. So, I think the right name for him would be, Samuel.”

Sam’s face lit up, and you could see an array of different emotions play out across his features.

“Sam, you really are all those things. You’re a good man; kind, loving and gentle. I’ve seen you with the people of Lawrence, you captivate them. Despite how things are now, I know that one day, you will show them that you are far better than your father. They know that you are pure of heart. And I’ve seen you go up against John and Crowley. I’ve seen that fire burn in your eyes when someone has wronged you. You are fiercely protective of those you love. Our son is going to be all those things. Samuel Winchester, the second, will be the spitting image of his father; in appearance and in character.”

“He will be even better than that, because he will have your blood running in his veins, too; his fierce, smart, loving, cunning and brave mother. I didn’t have my mother for long at all. I never got to know her, but from what I have heard about her, she was a lot like you. And if little Samuel here gets even a fraction of that, he will be unstoppable.”

You didn’t know what to say, and the way he was looking at you made it even more difficult. You leaned in to kiss him, which he welcomed happily.

“Well, husband, now that that is settled, eat your breakfast and let’s get dressed. I have a feeling we’ll be returning later with a large bounty of goodies from our day out in the woods.”

The castle corridors had been hauntingly silent in the months since the party ended so badly. The Winchester guard was sent to stand along the perimeter of the castle walls, once the people had been ushered from the ballroom that night. The King had retreated to his chambers and spent most of his days there, so Bobby had taken up the mantle to keep the castle safe from the people who wanted to do damage after the truth had come out. Anytime John would call him to his room and ask if there had been any word on Sam or Y/N, Bobby would say no then find an excuse to leave quickly. John wasn’t in the best state of mind since the party, but Bobby still feared that John would somehow know that he was lying.

Being in charge of the castle affairs did afford Bobby the ability to slip away unnoticed when he needed to. It was how he met up with Sam and Y/N once they were safe at the cottage. He brought Dean’s stallion back so no one noticed it was gone. He had even been able to go back a few times in the last couple of months to make sure everything was okay and they had plenty of supplies. Still, doing so could be dangerous if any of the guardsmen who saw him leaving the grounds decided they should tell the King. So far, it hadn’t happened, but knowing how bad it could be, Bobby did his best to be stealthy and quiet when leaving.

It had been a while since he was able to get out to the cottage, and with the weather turning he knew that he would have to go soon. Knowing that Sam’s hip was no longer an issue, he was confident in the young Winchester that he would chop enough wood and hunt enough game to keep his family comfortable for the winter. Before he was injured years before, Sam was always a great hunter, sometimes even bagging more deer than Dean had. Bobby paused for a moment in the darkened hallway at the memory of the boys so young, out with him hunting and just being boys.

The dull sound of voices being carried on the drafty air of the corridor pulled him from his long ago memory. Curious as to whom it could be, Bobby crept further down the hall until he reached the King’s chamber door. No one had been permitted in there except Bobby, and until he heard the distinctive voice of the Demon King, Crowley, he was ready to burst through and kick some ass. However, Crowley’s voice gave him pause. Instead of busting in, he decided to wait quietly at the door, hoping to hear what the two men could be conspiring about now.

“For the last time, Crowley, I have no idea where they are.” John’s emotionless voice cut through the air, causing Crowley to grimace in frustration.

“What good are you then? I’ve had my demons everywhere, and there’s no sign of them. I gave you my daughter for a purpose, John. Losing her wasn’t part of the deal!”

John growled lowly as he sat up from his chair and began to pace the room. “I should never have agreed to any of this.”

“Well, ya did. I have the contract to prove it. Even sealed it with a kiss. Not my finest moment, but even demons have rules to follow. So, quit your whining and sulking and help me find my daughter!”

“Find her yourself,” John muttered. He stopped at the table near his bed and grabbed the flask of whiskey he kept there. “My son is also gone, if you haven’t noticed. He hates me, even if I knew where they were, Sam wouldn’t come home.”

“No offense, your majesty, but your giant son isn’t my concern. If I am the one to find him first, there will be nothing left of him to come home.”

John’s shoulders tensed and he fought the urge to turn and lunge at Crowley. But it would do no good. He would either disappear or just take the punch, completely unphased. He had considered sending out his secret Winchester guardsmen of demon hunters to take Crowley out once in for all, but he feared if they were successful, somehow it would rain more Hell down upon him then he already had.

“Threaten my son again, Crowley, and I will make sure your daughter suffers in ways you never thought possible.”

“I should have known better than to make a deal with a man like you. A man more worried about his own reputation than with his own flesh and blood. Offering up Adam to keep your indiscretions quiet, offering up Sam to wed my daughter so you could claim a win in Purgatory. Hell, even sending your Golden Boy Dean to fight on the front lines. The chances of him returning in one piece is slim, considering how many monsters there are fighting for Eve that would love to make a meal of Dean Winchester. How many of them do you think he put there himself?”

“Shut up, Crowley.”

“If I only could. However, I personally want to find my daughter. I have been through every crevice of this… town. Not one psychic, witch, seer, or demon has even had a whiff of her. All they could tell me was they were certain she was carrying the heir to the throne. So, Samuel did his part. Bully for him. As long as he doesn’t get in my way of retrieving my daughter, I wouldn’t touch one luscious hair on his head. If he does, well, I promise nothing.”

“Is that all you came here for? To threaten my son? To hold our mistake of a deal over my head?!”

John was growing more agitated, which Crowley found some entertainment in. “Sorry, Sire. But I don’t have expendable children as you seem to have. That child she is carrying, that child is important. It was never meant to be raised in this castle as an heir to the Winchester throne. That child is meant to be Eve’s downfall, and lead my army of Demons to take over all of creation.”

“Huh,” John laughed and took another swig of his whiskey. “I thought you meant to sacrifice it to Eve. Doing that, she would stand down, and allow you the souls in Purgatory.”

Crowley was taken aback. Of course he always kept his true intentions to himself. Crowley was smart enough to know that those little details were too important to trust in anyone else’s confidence. So how did John know? He had been so careful to keep those dealings quiet, yet somehow the King knew why Crowley was so intent on a baby created in the union of their children. Crowley cleared his throat and rolled his eyes, trying to play off his current expression.

“You just know everything, don’t you. Must make you feel good, thinking you have some kind of upper hand. Sorry to say, you don’t. Clearly you have gone down a path of despair and whiskey. I think it’s all starting to catch up to you, John. Both of your sons are gone… sorry, all THREE of your sons are gone. Your people hate you for dealing with me, and even your salty Maester keeps his distance.”

Ignoring Crowley’s words, John chuckled. “I know the truth, Crowley. I’ve known for some time. Why do you think I am not out frantically looking for those kids? As much as I detest your daughter and shudder at the thought of her bearing Sam’s child, I would rather that child be born and kept far away from you, than for you to use it for your own gain.”

“Hypocrisy at its finest. You agreed to that wedding so a child could be born. You just figured it would be leading the battle in purgatory eventually, and getting the big ‘W’, then actually sacrificing it to appease Eve. See, that’s your problem. Your own ego won’t let you recognize that she, alone, could destroy all of us; all of Lawrence and beyond. So you keep charging in there with your armies and my demons, thinking it will make a difference. It won’t. Sometimes, Sire, you need to think outside of the box.”

“And you need to go, Crowley. Now. Regardless of what you think of me, I had good intentions at the start of all this. I just wanted my sons to be safe, but know how to be strong. To fight for their lands and their families, just like their mother did in the Angel Wars. Getting mixed up with you… stupidest thing I have ever done. And now, I will spend whatever time I have left on this Earth trying to make it right. So, leave, while you can.”

John paused and turned to face his adversary. Crowley took a tentative step back when he saw the darkness of John’s gaze fitted directly upon his own. His anger burned so deeply that the King looked as if he was carrying a black-eyed entity in himself. For all the confidence and ego he had of his own, Crowley realized that leaving would be in his best interest, and he would have to go to greater lengths on his own to find Y/N and her baby.

“I mean it, demon. LEAVE!” John drew in a breath to start an exorcism, but he barely got the first syllable of the first word out before Crowley disappeared from his view. He sighed deeply, grabbed the flask and went back to the chair that looked out the window and over the gardens. The blooms that had lived in those gardens were long gone, now that autumn had come. Trying to erase Crowley’s visit from his mind, he slumped into the chair and gazed out on the grounds that his wife had loved so much. Guilt ensconced his heart as her voice floated through his mind, ‘Oh, John, what have you done?’

The voices stopped suddenly, and Bobby assumed Crowley heeded the King’s warning and had vanished from the room. He fought the urge to bust through the doors and confront John with what he heard, especially about Sam’s unborn child. Moving away from the door, Bobby’s gut sank with the thought, ‘Would he really have let Crowley take that child and sacrifice it to Eve?’ Not being able to give himself a solid answer as to what John would have done made him feel sick. Bobby had known and been in service to John Winchester for many years; he had seen and heard him do despicable things. This, however, was the worst of the worst. He vowed to himself then he would do whatever was necessary to be sure that Sam and Y/N’s baby arrived into the world safely, and that neither John or Crowley would be able to find them.

Stepping outside from the warmth of the cottage was jarring. The air had turned from the fall chill to a winter bite faster than you had expected. Autumn had arrived in full force and with colder temperatures than you had ever felt during that time of year. If Bobby or Pamela had been around, you would have thought to ask them if this was an effect of the Elven Woods, but they weren’t and hadn’t been for a while now.

Closing the door, you went back into the cottage to grab an extra wrap before heading out to gather the last of the living plants and edible blooms that somehow tolerated the colder air.

“Sam, I’m heading out now!” You called out, hopefully loud enough for him to hear you as he took stock of the root cellar.

“Take an extra layer!” he called back. “It was freezing when I was out this morning.”

“Already did. I shouldn’t be long. If you could, put the kettle on the fire so it will be ready for tea when I return. I have a feeling I will need warmth!”

Sam peeked his head from around the door to the root cellar, a big smirk on his face, showing off his dimples through the beard he now wore. “I can do that for you, but I’m also happy to use my hands to warm you.”

“Oh, yes, that I know,” you said with a smile and raise of your brow. “While I do love your method of keeping me warm, tea would be very helpful as well.”

“As you wish, my Lady. Don’t be gone long. I don’t want you to catch a cold out there.”

“Yes, husband.” You sighed and playfully rolled your eyes. “I will be quick.”

As you made your way through the almost bare paths, you noticed that your growing belly was now big enough to hide your feet. Smiling to yourself, you lazily draped an arm across the top and felt Samuel kicking around inside you.

“Patience, my son. Your time will be here soon.” Drawing in a deep breath, you kept up your brisk pace to arrive at the patch of greenery you saw the day before and hoped that morning’s frost hadn’t killed it yet.

A short time later and a bit winded, you stumbled upon a patch of greenery that stood out amongst the dying foliage. The area felt like it was radiating a soft energy, one that felt similar to the tree you found that first day. This patch offered all the good herbs and mushrooms you could find, along with a small berry patch that still seemed to be edible.

Gathering everything you could find, your hand brushed along the bush with the plump red berries. Popping one of the large berries into your mouth, you relished in the amount of sweetness it still had and continued to focus on getting as many as you could. The fact that anything was still alive in the woods while it was as cold as it was amazed you. It was just a reminder at how special the Elven Woods truly were. Getting lost in the patch and in the thoughts of the magic that was the woods, you never heard the footsteps approaching.

“My dear!” a voice called out, startling you to drop the basket and all of what you had gathered falling to the forest floor.

You whipped around, heart beating a mile a minute only to see Rowena standing not ten yards away, wrapped in a white fur wrap and hat, wisps of her bright red hair lazily blowing around her face in the breeze that came through.

“Whatever are you doing out here all alone!?” She took a few tentative steps towards you, and saw the prominent swell of your belly. “And so pregnant! My God, you look as though you are about to burst!”

“Rowena… what… how did you…” you paused and looked around at the empty woods, unsure which of the dozens of questions you had to ask first. “What are you doing out here?”

“Why, looking for you! I heard what happened at the castle, and I’ve been looking for you ever since. I was worried for you, and for Samuel. Especially once I heard that Fergus made an appearance at your party. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“I’m sure,” you replied hesitantly. Squatting down as far as you could, you quickly gathered the spilled contents of your basket, never taking your eyes off her for more than a second.

“Where have you been all this time? Not living in these godforsaken woods I hope.”

“I’ve been somewhere safe. Just came out to get the last of these before the weather took them.”

Rowena took a few more steps and looked in the basket. “Good pickin’s for this time of year. You got lucky. You’ll need some of those to help with the pain when the baby comes.”

“I know,” you said warily, pulling the basket closer to you. “I should be getting back. Sam will worry if I don’t return soon. He knows where I am, so–”

“Oh, my sweet girl, I am not here to hurt you. Trust me, Samuel will have no reason to come hunt me down.” Rowena chuckled in her nonchalant way. “I am solely here to make sure my only granddaughter is safe and healthy. I learned of your pregnancy, and I was scared you would be alone during the birth. No woman should be alone. When I had Fergus, I was alone in a stable, with nothing but horses to hear my screams. Nearly scared them right out of their stalls!”

“Well, I’m not alone. I have Samuel.”

Rowena waved her hand in annoyance. “Please, men have no business helping a woman give birth. Sure, they are good with the making of the child, but they really just don’t have the stomachs to handle the birthing part.” She reached out one of her small, gloved hands towards you; her expression soft and concerned. “Come, let’s get you back to where it's warm and see what we have to work with to make you comfortable.”

Reluctantly, you took her hand. Having forgotten gloves of your own, hers felt warm around your fingers and for a moment you felt grateful she was there. The idea of giving birth so far removed from a Maester or a Midwife did scare you, but because of the circumstances, you had to let that fear go or it would eat you alive. As if hearing your thoughts, Rowena offered a comforting smile and offered to take the basket from your arm.

“Now, how far are we from home? It's going to be dark soon.”

“Not far, it's this way–” Before you could turn in the right direction, a sharp pain exploded from your stomach and shot down straight between your legs. A warm gush of fluid came from between your thighs, causing you to double over and cry out in pain.

“Guess I found you just in time! Come now, let’s get you home and ready to have your wee one.”

The hike back to the cottage was a blur. The pain that had struck you continued the whole way, and there were moments when you didn’t think you would make it back. Just as the smoke from the chimney came into view, you started to cry with relief because it meant that your husband was close by. You didn’t trust Rowena, but part of you knew that you needed her help. At least Sam would be there too, to keep an eye on your grandmother and make sure kept her word and was solely there to help.

Within steps of the cottage door, you felt the world starting to go hazy. A loud buzzing in your ears took over and your vision became distorted. Though you had never experienced labor before, what you were feeling didn’t feel right. It was as if all your senses were beginning to dull and you were losing control over what was left.

The door opened with urgency, and you could make out Sam standing there before he rushed out towards you.

“What happened?! What the Hell are you doing here Rowena! What did you do to her?”

“Oh Samuel, time for questions later, your wife has gone into labor. Get her inside and on the bed, quickly!”

Sam did as Rowena ordered without any further questions. You could feel yourself losing consciousness but found it in you to whisper his name as he scooped you into his arms and rushed you inside.

“Samuel,” you repeated as he lay you down on the bed and wrapped the blankets around you, trying to get you warm.

“Shhh, Y/N. Just rest. I’ll get you some warm tea. I had it ready and waiting just like you asked.” It was the last thing you heard him say as you drifted off, unwillingly shutting out the world behind you.

“Tea won’t be necessary, Samuel,” Rowena spoke up as she entered the room and pushed him aside. Despite the difference in their size, Rowena moved about as if she owned the place and Sam was nothing but a peasant in her way.

“Can you follow some instructions, boy? I need you to gather all the clean towels, and get that kettle of water into a pot and bring it here.”

Sam stood, motionless at first, watching his wife lay motionless on their bed. He didn’t hear a word Rowena was saying, he was too focused on how the day started so normally, and now it was breaking out in chaos.

“Samuel!” Rowena shouted his name, finally grabbing his attention. “Please! Clean linens and boiling water. I will get her ready, awake or not, this baby is coming so we need to be prepared.”

He nodded in a daze, curious as to how she could remain so calm. Sam got his feet moving, and went to gather the things she requested. After bringing them back into the room, he saw Rowena had removed the wool pants that Y/N had worn beneath her dress, and that the blankets were up above her knees.

“Is she? I mean, is the baby–”

“Yes, she’s okay and yes, yer baby is about to make his entrance. Now that you are all caught up, I need you to go and grab whatever salves or potions she’s crafted for pain. Also, in the basket I brought in, are some purple leaves with a white blossom. Ground the whole thing, root to bloom with a mortar and pestle, sprinkle in two parts Dwale. I assume you have some in the root cellar. If I know my granddaughter, she will have it in her pantry. No self respecting witch would go without it.”

Sam nodded, trying to just concentrate on whatever tasks Rowena handed to him. The sudden manner in which Y/N went into labor had him distracted. Even though he felt prepared for the arrival of his child, the way it was happening was scary and left him feeling helpless. His normally stoic demeanor was off balance, so he did his best to follow Rowena’s directions even if her being there was suspicious.

As quickly as he could, he foraged through the root cellar, looking for what she had asked for. Once he had ground the herbs together, he raced back into the room and placed them by Rowena’s side. He could see Y/N had a layer of sweat on her brow, and while she wasn’t completely conscious, she was breathing steadily and her face winced ever so slightly in pain.

“What’s wrong with her? Why is she not conscious?” he asked as he moved to her side and wiped the sweat from her brow.

“I believe the pain was too much. Childbirth is work, Samuel. Some women, even strong ones like my granddaughter, can succumb to it. Good thing I arrived when I did. Now, you can stay for this if you want, but I warn you, it's going to be messy. You may not have the stomach for it.”

“I won’t leave her,” he said firmly and without taking his eyes off Y/N. “Tell me how I can help.”

“Fine. If you really want to help, get a cool cloth for her head. Put a bucket of water outside, so it can freeze up. Once I get her awake, she will need some ice for her throat. Now that the sun is down and with the way the air has turned, it shouldn’t take long to freeze.”

Sam did as he was told. By the time he had gotten the cloth and put water outside, he heard Y/N’s voice cry out. He ran back to the room to find Rowena standing by her head, holding it up as she let the cup of herbs he mixed, sit under her nose.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Rowena purred and gently laid Y/N’s head back to the pillow. Her eyes were still closed, but she was more awake then she had been earlier. “Before you ask, no, she’s not completely conscious, but enough to help push the baby out. It could take some time, so why don’t you go and prepare some extra firewood. You will need this place to be far warmer if you want this baby to survive his first few hours out in these woods.”

“I don’t want to leave her. I need to be here!”

Turning on her heel, Rowena marched up to Sam and pointed her finger into his chest. “If YOU hadn’t brought her out to these woods to hide, she would be giving birth in a warm castle chamber, with a midwife and proper tools. So, if I were you, Lord Winchester, I would do as I ask because I am the only one here capable of guiding her through this so they both live!”

Stunned by her brashness, Sam simply nodded. His fear of losing one or both of them took over, and again, did as he was commanded.

A short time had passed, when he heard Y/N cry out again from inside the cottage. He fought against all of his instincts to run back inside, because he knew that Rowena would just force him out. He admitted to himself that wasn’t the only thing holding him back. He was petrified of seeing her in such distress and the guilt he was beginning to feel for having her in such an isolated place kept his feet stuck firmly in place.

From beyond the cottage, he could hear the whinny of the sole horse they had kept. That high pitch sound bounced off the trees, followed by a gust of cold wind that carried a brief flurry of snowflakes. Feeling those flakes touch his skin, it prompted him to hurry with the wood. If it was going to start snowing already, Rowena was right, they would need as much firewood as he could possibly make. Then, they would need to find a better place to hold up for the winter. The cottage had worked to this point, but what she had said sat heavy on his mind. The Elven Woods, while rich with magic and bountiful with herbs, was no place to be caught for the winter. For all it had to offer in the warmer months into the autumn, it took it all away and left the grounds a barren white emptiness that could become dangerous.

More time had passed, and Sam grunted with one last swing of the ax. He paused, waiting to hear something from the cottage. When another minute or two passed with no noise, he grabbed as many logs as he could and headed back inside. Dropping the wood near the fire that was already going, he again waited to hear some kind of sound come from the bedroom he shared with Y/N.

“Rowena?” he called out, his tone laced with worry. “Rowena!”

When no reply came, he made his way into the room and saw that the witch was nowhere in sight. His gaze went towards the bed where he saw his wife laying, as if she was peacefully sleeping. He went to the side of the bed, and lovingly brushed back the hair that was stuck to her face. ‘Maybe Rowena went to the root cellar,’ he thought. Though it was more of a desperate prayer, because in his gut he knew she wasn’t. Sam swallowed thickly as he looked closer at Y/N’s body. The prominent swell of her stomach was gone, just a small bump where their son had been growing. The blanket that was up above her knees earlier, was now pulled down, covering her to her toes, and stained with fresh blood.

“Y/N,” he said, softly at first. When she was still unresponsive, he began to shake her, calling her name louder and louder. “Y/N!” When he saw that her chest was slowly rising and falling, he pressed his fingers to her throat and felt a weak pulse.

‘She’s alive,’ he said to himself and breathed a sigh of relief.

The cottage was quiet. There were no sounds from the root cellar, or in the small pantry behind the fireplace. All Sam could hear was the crackle of the dying fire and the labored breathing of his wife.

“Where’s my son,” he mumbled, the realization that there were no sounds of a baby crying anywhere in his reach. “Where is my son!”

Leaving Y/N on the bed, he tore through the cottage, throwing open every cabinet and looking under every surface. He grabbed the candle off the table and went down into the root cellar, nearly losing his footing and falling down the last few steps. Just as he caught his balance, he looked around hoping to see Rowena and his son. There was no sign of either of them. The only thing out of place was the shelf that blocked off the hidden door to the escape route Pamela had shown them.

From above, he could hear Y/N moaning. Torn between chasing after his son, and keeping his wife alive, Sam wanted to scream. His breath became erratic, and caused his head to swim in fear. Knowing that Rowena could have been gone for a good amount of time—time that Y/N may not have—he raced back up the stairs and to the bedroom where he knew his wife was.

Dawn had just broken over the castle walls, and Bobby was already up and making his way to the dining hall where he knew John had slept. For the first time in a while, John had left his room and went into the hall to have a meal. Bobby had seen him in there the night before, but decided it wasn’t yet the time to confront him with what he had overheard between the two Kings. He did go back later that night to check on John, but he had over indulged in whiskey and was passed out face down at the table.

Bobby had not slept all night, going back and forth on what to do with what he heard. Finally, he decided that he would go and confront the King, then demand that John promise the child would be safe so he could bring Sam and Y/N back to the castle. They had already been out in the woods too long, and knowing she was close to giving birth, he hated the idea of them being out there all alone. First though, he needed reassurance that John would do whatever necessary to keep Crowley out of the castle walls, and that the baby would stay with his parents; not be given to Eve for any reason.

Pushing open the dining hall doors with authority, the sound of them bouncing off the stone walls echoed through the room, causing John to pick up his head just in time to see Bobby marching towards him.

“Wake up!” Bobby roared, his face set into a scowl. “I don’t care if you are my King, or a two bit hussler off the streets, get your ass up now!”

John groaned as he sat up straighter in his chair at the head of the table. Once he had his bearings, he looked up towards Bobby ready to demand some respect, but couldn’t bring himself to do so once he saw the anger burning on his old friend’s face.

“Bobby, I–”

“No, you don’t get to talk. You don’t get to do anything right now. All you get to do is listen. I’ve kept quiet, and let you sit around wallowing in the guilt you brought on yourself. But I can’t do it anymore. It's time you pull yourself together and do what you should have done months ago.”

“Which is?”

“Get the fuck over yourself!” Bobby barked. “You've been moping around this place, all butt-hurt because Sam took off and condemned you to Hell for what you did. As if making that deal with Crowley all those years ago wasn’t bad enough, you use your son as a pawn in yet another deal, to what? Save your own damn soul? To stop a war that has been in motion for years?”

John went to speak, but Bobby raised his hand and shook his head.

“I ain’t done yet. I heard you and Crowley not long ago, heard what you said to him. You knew his real intentions with your own grandchild, and you weren’t gonna stop it, were you? You were gonna let Sam have a child, then rip it from his arms! What kind of man are you!?”

“Bobby,” John started, his voice small and broken. “I, I know, I made the wrong choice… I hate myself…”

“Well, boohoo, I’m so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess. But you brought all that crap on by yourself. So, instead of wallowing in your own guilt, get over it and do something to fix it!”

“And what would that be, Bobby? Sam is gone, I have no idea where–”

“I know exactly where the boy is,” Bobby snorted. “Who the Hell do you think got him out of here safely?”

John’s attention piqued at this revelation. “So, where? Where is he? Is he okay?”

“Far as I know, he’s fine. Him and Y/N both. I wanna bring ‘em both home. She’s gonna be ready to have that child any time now, and she deserves a clean, warm, safe place to do that. But I won’t risk her or the baby’s lives if I don’t have your absolute word that they will be safe here. Safe… indefinitely.”

Before John could reply, there was a stir of commotion from beyond the doors of the dining hall. It sounded as if they were getting closer, causing John to rise from his seat, and Bobby to take a few tentative steps closer to the doors. They flew open with force, as they had when Bobby entered, but this time it was Sam that caused the rukous. He was soaked from head to toe, and in his arms he was carrying the limp body of his wife.

“Bobby!! Please! She needs help!”

Bobby didn’t hesitate, he ran towards Sam and helped him gently lay Y/N on the far end of the grand table. John watched from a distance, horrified at what was unfolding before him. When he heard Bobby declare that Y/N was still breathing, he finally found his footing and rushed towards where they were gathered.

“What happened?” he asked warily, unsure if he would even get a response.

“What happened?” Sam repeated his question in surprise. “Seriously? As if you didn’t know!”

“Sam, I–I don’t. What–”

“She went into labor! That’s what happened! Rowena showed up right before she did. I–I thought she was there to help,” Sam swallowed roughly and rubbed his hand against the side of his face. “I thought… I did what she asked. She was helping Y/N with the labor. Told me to go and cut firewood because the cold had come on so fast.”

“Alright son, take a breath,” Bobby said as gently as he could, while continuing to check Y/N’s vitals.

Sam released a slow, shaky breath. “It got quiet, so I went back inside the cottage,” he continued, talking directly to Bobby now. “Rowena was gone. The baby was gone. And she…” he stopped again to gaze down at Y/N, fighting desperately to hold back the build up of fear that was nearly choking him, “she was just laying there, covered in a bloody blanket. I didn’t know what to do, except bring her to you. Can you help her? Please, Bobby, I can’t… I can’t lose her, too.”

“Good news is she is breathing, and even with the blood loss, her pulse is strong. Let’s get her up to your bed, and I’ll see what I have in the apothecary that will bring her around. Gotta make sure that bleeding has stopped.”

“Son, I’m sure she will pull through,” John said and placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder.

Sam shrugged it off violently and turned to face his father. “Don’t touch me.”

“Sam, I know you’re scared, but–”

“You have NO IDEA what I am right now!” he roared in reply. “This… This is all YOUR fault! You, you and your goddamn deal… making promises to a demon! You did this! If you hadn’t lied, and made the deals you did, we wouldn’t be in this situation! We left, because we weren’t safe here! All the warding this place has and somehow Crowley always manages to slip through. Why is that, dad? You offered me up like it was nothing, then married me off, like it was nothing. I did as you asked, I married her, and I fell in love with her! You never trusted that it was real, did you?”

“Sam, please… I know what I did was wrong. But, son, you have to understand–”

“No! Nothing you could say makes any of it okay! Now, because you let Crowley in, again, we were forced to hide! Hours away from help if we needed it, no guards, no way of getting word to anyone!”

“Look, I get you’re pissed, and rightfully so,” Bobby said as calmly as he could, “but now isn’t the time, Sam. We need to make sure she’s stable, and safe.” He said the last word with an authority that made John look in his direction.

“I need to find my son,” Sam said, glaring at his father. “I need reassurance that you will do the right thing, for once in your pitiful life, and make SURE my wife stays safe while I go after our son!”

John nodded, guilt and regret coating his throat, leaving him unable to speak.

Sam shook his head. “Not good enough. I need to hear you say it. You owe me that at least.”

“Y/N will be safe here. I swear it on your mother’s soul.”

That was enough for Sam. He turned back to Y/N, once again picking up her limp body and made his way out of the dining hall, with Bobby following close behind. John stood there, stunned by all that had just happened. Regardless of how he felt about Y/N, he would be true to his word and keep her safe. He took a few moments to gather his composure, then bellowed for the closest guard.

“Tell the others to reinforce the warding. I want this place on lockdown. No one goes in or out, under my orders. Call back half the guards that are on the walls. I want them stationed through the hallways near Lady Winchester’s chambers. I want the best healers brought in, as soon as possible. Shamans, white witches, whoever you can find. She is to be protected at all costs, do you understand?”

“Yes, your majesty,” the guard replied and went off to do as he was asked.

Knowing that Sam wouldn’t want him in the chambers, John slowly walked back to the head of the table of the grand hall, and stood behind his chair. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt the weight of the choices he had made in the vein of his own desires. The lives that were lost because of his actions felt suddenly overwhelming, and he knew then that no matter how he felt about Samuel’s wife, he would do whatever he had to to keep her alive.

By the end of the day, Y/N seemed to be stable. Bobby was able to stop the bleeding she was experiencing from the birth. When Sam asked how bad it was, Bobby just lowered his head and shook it slowly.

“Son, you don’t need to know. Let’s just say that whatever Rowena did, it was quick and probably painful as all hell. Luckily, I was able to stitch her up, stop the bleeding and make her comfortable.”

“Will she wake up?”

Bobby’s heart broke for Sam, because the truth was, there was no reason for her to not have woken up already. “I can’t say for sure. I don’t know what else Rowena coulda done to her. It’s like she’s in a deep sleep. None of the usual things are working to bring her around. I’m no witch, but I do know some of their tricks. If we can find Rowena; find out what she did, I can probably reverse it.”

“Oh, we will find her, Bobby. She has my son.”

“Are you sure about that? Did you hear the baby cry? Do you know, for certain–”

“Bobby, don’t.” Sam interrupted. He looked as though he may be sick if Bobby continued with what he was about to say. “He’s alive. My son was born and Rowena took him.”

“Ok,” Bobby said, doing his best to sound hopeful. “Ok, then we go and find them. Best bet, let’s start with Crowley. I know him and his mommy don’t always get along, but in this case, it's a good place to start.”

“Can’t hurt, that’s for sure. You need a night of rest first,” Bobby paused and held up his hand knowing Sam would want to leave immediately. “Before you go and start tellin’ me we gotta go now, you aren’t gonna be good for much if you don’t get some sleep. Y/N’s resting comfortably, stay in here with her tonight, and the Midwife will be here by morning to keep an eye on her when we leave.”

“A midwife? How is that enough to keep her safe?”

“Did I mention she’s a psychic who also knows some pretty strong hoodoo? Trust me, I wouldn’t leave anyone here that couldn’t protect Y/N. Missouri is the right woman for the job. We can leave for Crowley’s at first light to go find your boy.”

Sam was thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. He was exhausted, and the idea of sleep wasn’t appealing but it was necessary. “You sure she’s okay? Comfortable?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Just don’t know why she won’t wake up.”

The two men stood quietly, watching the slow rise and fall of Y/N’s chest, both deep in thought about what came next.

“I’m going to kill him, Bobby.”

“Now, Sam… I know how good it would feel to send Crowley packin’, but–”

“Not Crowley. My father. Once this is all said and done, I’ll come back and take his throne. He doesn’t deserve to rule Lawrence, or this family. I’ll go get Dean from Purgatory if I have to. But trust me, King John doesn’t have much time left in his rule.”

McLeod Castle stood tall and ominous as Bobby and Sam watched it come into view. Neither of them had ever traveled that far East, and it wasn’t hard to see why. The lands surrounding it were barren and bleak; pockets of fire bursting from the grounds. The bright, blue skies that he was used to in Lawrence were gone. In its place were dark purple and black clouds that screamed with bolts of electric blue lightning. It broke Sam’s heart to know that this was the place his wife grew up in. Sharing a look of uncertainty, Bobby kicked his horse into high gear and they continued on to the castle in a full on gallop.

Once at the gates, they were ready for, and fully expecting, some resistance with Crowley’s minions. Instead the tall wrought iron fencing was left wide open for them to enter.

“Think it's a trap?” Sam asked, looking around trying to see if anyone was watching them.

“When isn’t it with Crowley?” Bobby scoffed, but continued to maneuver his horse through the opening.

There was no one standing guard at the door to the castle, either. The faint sounds of screams and chains rose up from somewhere beneath their feet, but neither Sam nor Bobby paid it much attention. Being at the literal gate of Hell, they expected nothing different.

Pushing open the door, Sam walked through first and was again surprised when there was not one demon there to greet them, or try to kill them. The sounds heard outside were a bit louder, but not loud enough to hide the approaching footsteps.

“Well, about time.”

Sam and Bobby turned to see Crowley standing in the arch made of black stone, fitted in his best black suit and holding a glass tumbler of scotch whiskey.

“Care for a drink?” the demon asked with a raised brow. When neither man answered he continued. “Guess not. Ok then, I imagine you are here to find the child.”

“Rowena took him. Where is she!” Sam roared while marching at him.

“Easy Moose.” Crowley cleared his throat while contorting his hand into a tight fist, suddenly cutting off Sam’s airway, stopping him in his tracks.

“We aren’t in your castle anymore. You’re in my house, and in MY house we play with magic.”

Bobby watched them nervously, knowing that if he didn’t intervene things would turn ugly fast. “Listen,” he said, cautiously stepping between them. “We just wanna know where the boy is. If Rowena has him here–”

“She doesn’t. I asked for her help in finding my daughter, but, you know mother, she does what she pleases.”

“I guess helpin’ you didn’t please her,” Bobby snorted.

“No, the only thing that pleases that old hag is screwing me over.” Crowley relented and unfurled his fist, giving Sam back his breath.

Sam gulped for air for a moment, and then finally felt the pain leave his chest. He tried to calm himself from lunging at Crowley again, but rational thought prevailed and he tried to turn the situation to his advantage.

“Look, we both want the same thing; my son back safe and for Y/N to wake up.”

“Wake up?” Crowley asked, his tone showing a worry that surprised Bobby and Sam. “What happened to my daughter?”

“Rowena showed up where we were,” Sam sighed. “Y/N fell unconscious during labor. Rowena had me running around, gathering things to help. I was outside getting firewood and when I came back in, Rowena and the baby were gone. Y/N was left on the bed, bloody. I brought her home and Bobby was able to save her, but she just won’t wake up.”

Crowley stood silently, his mind racing at what could be wrong with Y/N. “What things did my mother have you gather? Herbs, bones?”

“I–I don’t know, she had brought in a basket of things… roots, mushrooms, berries, herbs… She did have me ground up some and used them to try and bring Y/N around, but it didn’t really work.”

“She’s hexed her,” Crowley grumbled, more to himself than to the others. Shaking his head, he slowly paced around the room, polishing off what was left of his whiskey.

“How can you be sure?” Bobby asked.

“Because I know my mother. I’m just surprised she actually left the girl alive.”

Sam thought back to the items Rowena had him blend. “The roots, they had this purple bloom at the top of the stalk. I’ve never seen them before. Then she added Dwale, but that’s for pain, isn’t it?”

“Oh, for Hell’s sake, that’s Reaper Root!” Crowley shouted and growled deep in his chest. “Reaper Root and Dwale together, will make a person hover between life and death, until they attract a Reaper. It’s just a matter of time before one comes to take her soul! I thought you Winchesters knew a thing or two!”

Sam felt a deep ache hit his chest. She was alive, but for how long was anyone’s guess. “So, what can we do to reverse it?”

Bobby’s mind raced through everything he knew about magic and spellwork. While that knowledge was vast, not one thing came to mind that would work. Finally, it hit him, there was one thing in the known world that could reverse just about any magic.

“Angel Grace,” he said softly, causing both Sam and Crowley to stare at him wondering if they actually heard what they thought?”

“‘Cuse me?” Crowley scoffed. “Angel Grace? Are you mad? There’s not a drop of Grace left! Cause all the angels are dead!”

“Not all of ‘em,” Bobby said and looked at Sam. “When Dean was back this last time, he told me he found Cas.”

Sam couldn’t believe Bobby’s admission. “What?! Why didn’t he tell me!”

“Because, you had your hands full. Also, he’s trying to keep it real quiet. Cas is his Ace in the Hole. Figures, he’d be a good asset to have against Eve.”

Crowley rolled his eyes dramatically. “Great, so now we have to go to Purgatory, a literal war zone, and look for the one Angel that’s left. Who happens to be your brother’s favorite toy?”

“That’s exactly what we are going to do,” Sam said and turned to leave the castle. “Bobby, get word to Dean as soon as possible. We need to leave for Purgatory now.”

A/N: This chapter is the end of The Pact. Sam’s story with Crowley’s daughter, will continue in the next part of The Winchester’s tale, Purgatory Rising.

Sam and Bobby are desperate to seek out Dean and the last angel on Earth, Castiel. They will have to navigate Purgatory and Eve’s army of monsters in order to obtain the Grace needed to save Sam’s wife. Finding Dean and Castiel won’t be easy, but having Crowley’s help could be the key in their success. Purgatory Rising will then follow Dean in his quest to kill Eve and end the war for good. To do this, he will need as much help as he can get from those closest to him

Series Tag: @theplaid-wearingmoose @zombiewerewolfqueen @silkiechicken @collette04 @katiecurls75 @death-unbecomes-you @colie87 @roxytheimmortal @klanceiscannon14 @voltage-my2dlove @flamencodiva @xhannahbananax03 @traceyaudette @winchester-wifey @pilaxia @babykalika2001 @lil-frenchfri77

SPN Tags: @wings-of-a-raven @negans-wife @kazosa @deans-baby-momma @hobby27 @breereadsthings @maddiepants @sorenmarie87 @screechingartisancashbailiff @lovealways-j @cloverhighfive @spnhollis @unlikelygalaxyiver @linki-locks11 @stoneyggirl @clarinette07 @lefthologramdeer @destielhoneybee @faughnphotography @katehuntington @81mysteriouslyme @mrswhozeewhatsis @deathofmissjackson @lauravic @akshi8278 @rebelminxy @fictionalabyss @blackcherrywhiskey @his-paradox @destielhoneybee @donnaintx @squirrelnotsam @weepingwillowphoenix @austin-winchester67 @krazykelly @igotmadskills @foxyjwls007 @hotwifeintern

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester AU #SPN AU #Sam winchester

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earth-ambassador-jim · 1 year

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Lost Souls: Story 15

Learning from History

Lost Souls Summary: Merlin awakens early from his sleep. He decides that he doesn’t want to leaving anything to chance and kidnaps the young James Lake Jr. to began training his Trollhunter as early as possible.

Barbara is determined to hunt down the man who kidnapped her son. In her efforts to get her son back she finds a strange old radio that speaks to her in a woman’s voice. The radio leads her to an underground society of shapeshifters.

Mother and son meet again years later as strangers on opposing sides.

AO3 - Fanfiction

~~~~

The loud whistle of the teapot sings through the air. Nancy hums as she took it of the stove and turns off the burner. She pours it into her chipped blue and white china teapot and sets the timer for five minutes. A glance out the window confirms that Barbara is on her third lap of the cul-de-sac. She should be in talking distance just a little after the timer goes off.

Still humming Nancy opens the oven to check on the cherry pie. Perfect! The edges have just turned a pleasant golden brown. She puts on her oven mitts and sets it on the counter to cool.

Now she just needs to set the table and she’ll be ready for company!

The timer goes off and Nancy removes the teabag and transfers to pot to the table. She glances at the clock. Toby and the Scotts will be having dinner right now so she doesn’t need to worry about being interrupted.

Nancy opens to the door to find Barbara standing at the door with her fist raised. They stare at each other for a moment before Barbara lowers it with a resigned expression.

“You saw me walking up and down the road… Didn’t you.”

Nancy nods.

Barbara sighs.

“Mind if I come in?” She asks slowly.

She doesn’t quite look Nancy in the eyes. Instead her gaze is constantly traveling. Observing all her surroundings. She reminds Nancy of some of the soldiers she’d met: men who’d been fighting so long they’d forgotten how to relax.

“Of course,” She says, standing to the side.

Barbara enters lightly. Like the last time, her eyes scan the room before her shoulders loosen ever so slightly.

They make their way to the kitchen and Nancy pours them each a cup of tea. While Barbara studies her tea and slice of pie, Nancy studies her. The scar curving up her jaw, just in front of her ear, is surprising as before. Nancy would still really like to ask how she got it. The dark circles under her eyes seem to be as permanently etched into her face as the wrinkles of her brow. Her red hair, pulled into a low bun, is lank and streaked with grey.

In a word she looks weary.

As she’s watching, Barbara swirls the tea in her cup, sniffs it, and then takes the tiniest taste -not even a sip- before setting it back down on the saucer.

She glances up and blinks when she sees Nancy looking at her. After a pause she awkwardly forces a smile onto her face. It looks more like a grimace.

“So how have you been?” She asks.

Nancy stares back at her and raises an eyebrow.

“I’ve been well, dearie,” She answers and then waits.

Barbara’s hands twitch around the tea cup before one of them creeps up to toy with the chain of the yellow pendant around her neck. She holds Nancy’s gaze for a moment longer before looking away. The plastic smile slides off her face. The sunlight that shines through the kitchen window warms Nancy’s back but stops just shy of Barbara’s fingers.

Nancy eats a bite of her pie and is pleased to find that she got the sweetness to tartness ratio just right. She washes it down with a sip of tea, enjoying the earthy taste of the blackberry nettle combination.

“I…” Nancy looks up at Barbara’s voice.

The red-haired woman is still not looking at her. She’s holding her tea-cup in her hands and staring into it as if it holds all the secrets of the world.

“What,” Barbara frowns and her brows furrow further. “What would you do if you every time you tried to fix things you just made them worse?” Her gaze flicks up for a moment and then back down. “Would you keep trying?”

Ah.

Nancy hums. Taking another sip of her tea as she digests the question.

“When I was a young girl,” She starts. “I lived in Germany.”

She gazes across the room at a black and white picture on the wall. Her vision blurs a bit as she lets herself slip past it into memory.

“Things were hard but I loved my home and my friends and my country but then… then things changed. The Nazis rose to power.”

Barbara looks up sharply, blue eyes finally settling on Nancy’s face.

“I didn’t know a lot at the time, but I didn’t like what I was hearing and seeing. The things they taught us as school made my stomach sick.

“Now it just so happened that my father was someone important. He was important enough that they didn’t ship him off to fight in the war like all my friends’ dads. Rather people would come and meet at our house.

“One day, one of our servants was arrested for spying on one of father’s meetings. As he was dragged off a paper fell out of his pocket. I took it and eventually figured out that the strange figures on it were code for a meeting spot.”

A proud smile tugs at Nancy’s lips.

“I always was good at puzzles. To cut a long story short I was able to meet his contact. They were very wary of me, but I convinced to give me a chance.” In hindsight she’d nearly gotten herself killed approaching the foreign spies. “For two years a listened in on my father’s meetings and carried information to them.”

Nancy frowns and takes a sip of her tea.

“What happened then?” Barbara asks when she doesn’t continue.

“Then I got caught,” Nancy sighs and sets her cup down. “You have to understand that I was young at the time. I was only 14 when I started and well… my judgement wasn’t always the best. I wasn’t as careful as I should have been.

“The men who worked with my father had realized there was a leak and started searching for clues. They found one of my papers. I’d hidden it under my parents’ mattress thinking they’d never look there.”

Nancy takes a slow breath in and holds it for a count before releasing it.

“They thought it was my Mom. They dragged her away as I yelled and screamed that it was really me.”

It had been the only time her father had struck her.

“They didn’t believe that a little girl could have done it.” Or perhaps they realized her father would be willing to sacrifice her Mom and figured that was enough of a lesson for her. “I never saw her again.”

Barbara flinches at that.

“She never claimed innocence, even though she must have known it was me. She just let them take her.”

The last thing she’d said as she was being dragged out the door was “I’m sorry.” Many other memories had faded with time, but Nancy could still hear her quiet voice and see her steady gaze as if it had just happened yesterday.

“I wasn’t able to spy after that. I’m certain my father also knew it was really me. There were no more opportunities and I suddenly was signed up for a dozen new activities with the League of German Girls.” Her nose wrinkles in disgust at the memory.

“It took me years to forgive myself for what happened to my Mom. Years to realize that while my actions might have led to her death, it was the Nazis who were at fault for it.”

She glances up and finds Barbara staring at her.

“I wish my Mom hadn’t taken the fall for me, but I don’t regret working as a spy. It would have been far worse to know that I had lived turning my back on what was happening in that house.”

She downs the last swallow of tea and picks up her fork to work on her pie.

She makes it about half way through before Barbara apparently realizes she’s done talking.

“Thank you for telling me,” Barbara says quietly.

Nancy nods without looking up.

The clock ticks five minutes away before the cuckoo pops out to announce that it’s 6’o clock.

Nancy glances up at it. At the distance the hands are fuzzy and hard to make out.

“Toby-pie should be home soon,” She says.

Barbara hums and then stands up.

“I need to be going,” She says.

She pauses there for a moment.

“Do you mind if I take this with me?” She waves her hand toward her untouched piece of pie.

Nancy smiles.

“Of course, dear! Let me get that wrapped up so it doesn’t make a mess in your vehicle.”

Barbara meet her eyes and small, but genuine smile, curves her lips.

“Thank you,” She says.

~~~~

Barbara clears a place on her cluttered kitchen table to set the plastic wrapped plate of pie before bonelessly collapsing into the chair. Absently she runs her hand across her hair.

What now?

Nancy’s story lingers in the back of her mind. There are things there that she’s not quite ready to think about but it still serves to give Barbara her answer. She can’t keep living the way she has but if she’s going to meddle again she needs to take some precautions.

Barbara gets up and walks a slow careful circuit around the table. Books clutter every available surface. A few have even made it onto the bed. There is a basket for dirty clothes and one for clean. She’s given up on folding them. It’s too much effort. Take-out boxes are stacked in the kitchen. The small Janus Order studio doesn’t look much different from her apartment back during med school. Well at least how it looked before she had…

Barbara shakes her head and takes a slow shuttering breath.

She focuses on the nearest book and reads the title -“A Dictionary of Runes”- before moving on to the next. The book she’s looking for isn’t in one of the kitchen cabinets or on the table or stacked on the chair by the door.

Barbara frowns and adjusts her glasses. She hopes it’s not in her office. She doesn’t want to go in there right now.

As a last ditch she lowers herself to her knees by her bed. She lifts the comforter that has half fallen onto the floor and grimaces. There is so much dust under there that the ground looks like it has a down coat. With a flick of her fingers and a muttered word Barbara directs a gust of wind under the bed.

The dust is dispersed into the air. Barbara immediately starts coughing and sneezing. She quickly rushes to the bathroom and turns on the fan. Through watering eyes she looks around and tries to remember if she has a vacuum. She doesn’t.

She debates on the merits of waiting for the dust to settle or going out to get the community vacuum. Her pride wins out so she pulls her shirt up over her nose and waits.

After a few minutes she releases her shirt and finds the air is mostly breathable. She pulls out her phone, creates a shopping list, and adds the word “Vacuum”.

She kneels back by her bed a looks again. Now that she dust is evenly distributed around the room she can easily make out the shapes of the books scattered beneath. She summons a small orb of light and peers at their spines.

“There it is.”

Barbara shifts to her side and reaches as far as she can. Her fingers claw at the spine. Finally she manages to catch it and pull it out.

She turns it over a wipes the dust off the black leather cover.

“Magic and the Mind”. It’s an old volume she got back when all this nonsense started.

She returns to the table and shoves the month old cup of coffee that she should really deal with to the side and sets the book in its place.

She opens it and skims a few pages before closing it again. It will do. She will also have to revisit that bookstore. She’d seen a book on spell crafting that looked promising.

She hesitates tapping her finger on the table. Given that the real magic books had a “Notice me not” spell on them, she has no doubt that the cashier is a magic user of some variety. His cat had seemed a little too intelligent too.

Barbara hums. Should she…

No it’s better to leave it alone. If she isn’t careful she might get Morgana interested in him and she isn’t inclined to put someone else in her position. Of course given how he phrased his introduction she is sure he would be harder to catch than her.

That aside, magic users tend to be curious people by nature she doesn’t need to give him a reason to start investigating her.

Barbara stares at the book for a moment longer before closing it.

There is one thing she would like to do. She might not know how far she is willing to go yet but she does know she owes this much to the Trollhunter. If she recalls correctly Kanjigar’s head has been being kept in a box in the general storage room. If it were to get mislabeled even slightly the goblins would mistake the box for another bridge piece.

She chuckles.

Usually the goblins’ antics drive her up the wall but right now she’s thankful they’re so unreliable.

She goes to the closet and digs up her map of the Trollhunter’s patrol routes.

When she returns to the table she is reminded that she now has a slice of pie. She sets the map aside and makes her way into the kitchen. A quick search of the drawers turns up a relatively clean fork. She runs it under the facet and then wipes it off on a paper towel just to be sure.

Returning to the table she takes the plastic off the pie and hesitates for a long moment before taking a bite. It’s excellent. Not too sweet, not too tart, and the crust is nice and flaky.

Barbara wonders what it would have been like fresh.

~~~~

Author Notes:

If the flow of this is going the way I think it is the next chapter should be fun...

Hope y'all enjoyed seeing Barbara's bachelor flat. I head-cannon her as the type of person who keeps a neat house if she lives with someone else but neglects everything if she lives alone. She currently lives in the Janus Order dorms. As Janus Order Head she could really get something nicer, but she doesn't really care. Anyway a bigger home means more to clean and well...

In 3Below Nancy says she was a spy in World War 1, but I'm modifying things to suit my purposes.

#Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Trollhunters Fanfiction #Lost Souls #Child Champion AU #Barbara Lake #nancy domzalski #my writing #my posts #my aus

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bring-more-sorrows · 2 years

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seeing demolition lovers live didn’t fix me or make me worse but a secret third thing

#mcr #my chemical romance #mcrnj #mcr nj 1 #Demolition Lovers #Josh Talks

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ozzyokala · 2 years

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History - Julia Michaels “have you ever broken a bone? what was your teacher’s name in third grade? do you cry when movies hit home? do you hate your family on holidays? have you ever had an existential crisis? have you ever really had a lover like this? tell me everything, i want your history. ‘cause we could be history in the making. tell me everything, talk to me honestly.”

Ah, the honeymoon phase. If I had one wish it would be to leave these two here forever. Ozzy is starting to realize he might have misjudged Parker at the beginning, and now he’s interested in knowing every little thing about him. The irony of it is that he’s telling little lies to Parker about his own history. For the most part it’s all true, but he’s not willing to own up to where he’s really from because he too scared to lose the person he’s felt the closest too since his ex.

To Be So Lonely - Harry Styles “don’t blame me for falling, i was just a little boy. don’t blame the drunk calling, wasn’t ready for it all. you can’t blame me darling, not even a little bit. i was away and i’m just an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry. don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons... i just hope you see me in a little better light.”

When things eventually do explode, I expect Ozzy to take a very defensive route. The way he sees it, it’s not his fault he’s from the Southside and he shouldn’t have to feel sorry about it. If Parker wasn’t so caught up in his neighborhood watch bullshit they could have avoided the whole thing. And while he will feel sorry and will want to reach out to apologize, but his pride is definitely going to get the best of him there. Drunk calls, though? 100%.

The Very First Night - Taylor Swift “we never saw it coming, not trying to fall in love but we did like children running. back then we didn’t know we were built to fall apart. we broke the status quo, then we broke each other’s hearts. but don’t forget about the night out in LA, dance in the kitchen chase me down through the hallway. no one knows about the words that we whispered, no one knows how much i miss you... i miss you like it was the very first night.”

I can already see Ozzy laying in his bed, replaying every moment him and Parker spent together. A part of him always knew they were doomed, but he wants nothing more than to rewind everything and go back to the beginning. He wants to live in the feeling of crushing on one another and exchanging little smiles and flirty banter forever. What hurts worse is that no one knows about them, and he’s going to feel like he’s going to have to grieve in secret.

If I Could Turn Back Time - Cher “my world shattered, i was torn apart like someone took a knife and drove it deep in my heart. when you walked out that door i swore that i didn’t care, but i lost everything, darlin’, then and there. too strong to tell you i was sorry, too proud to tell you i was wrong. i know that i was blind and darlin’ if i could turn back time, if i could find a way, i’d take back those words that have hurt you and you’d stay.”

Same vibes as the last two songs. When Parker leaves Ozzy is going to put on a brave face and pretend that it doesn’t matter to him, when really it’s going to tear his whole world apart. I don’t think he’s going to realize just how attached to Parker he is until he’s gone, and then he’ll want nothing more than to turn back time and fix everything before it can break.

august - Taylor Swift “back when we were still changing for the better. wanting was enough, for me it was enough. to live for the hope of it all, cancel plans just incase you’d call and say ‘meet me behind the mall’. so much for summer love and saying ‘us’, ‘cause you weren’t mine to lose. but i can see us lost in the memory, august slipped away into a moment in time. ‘cause it was never mine. and i can see us twisted in bedsheets, august sipped away like a bottle of wine. ‘cause you were never mine.”

I think for Ozzy, he never actually expected anything to happen between the two of them. I think “wanting was enough” is the perfect line to describe the way he’s feeling, because he was okay leaving things in a silly flirtationship and then they just took off. Looking back, he’s going to feel like Parker was never really his because he couldn’t commit to him publicly. The whole thing is going to feel like it fell right out of Ozzy’s hands, and he’s going to wish that they never started anything in the first place.

Illicit Affairs - Taylor Swift “that’s the thing about illicit affairs and clandestine meetings and stolen stares. they show their truth one single time, but they lie and they lie and they lie. and you wanna scream don’t call me ‘kid’, don’t call me ‘baby’ look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. you showed me colors i can’t see with anyone else... you taught me a secret language i can’t speak with anyone else.”

I was driving the other day and the “don’t call me kid” line punched me so hard in the gut I had to start the song over because it reminded me of them SO MUCH. Ozzy isn’t new to being someone’s secret, but it doesn’t make things any less frustrating for him. He’s in one world with Parker and another when they step outside of his apartment, but he wants nothing more than to combine them.

@parkerpantone

#i PROMISE i don't only listen to tswift #i just got a lil carried away with this one #cusatask

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crisishauntline · 8 months

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What drives me crazy is that when I make a behavioral change at her request, she immediately finds some other little problem that needs fixing, or says that the way I’m applying the change feels “like and afterthought” or like I don’t really “mean” it. Meanwhile, I request the same small behavioral changes over and over again, she sometimes applies them… when she does, I make a concerted effort to name the thing she’s done and thank her for it in a way that communicates how it makes me feel loved. When she doesn’t and I remind her, she accuses me of never being satisfied and not seeing how hard she’s trying.

But it really feels like she is the one who’s never satisfied, bc even when I give her what she asks for to the very fullest extent of my abilities—even when she herself acknowledges that I’m Doing The Thing—I’m not doing it with enough spontaneity or passion or whatever the fuck. Tough shit! All that means is that I’m spontaneously feeling passion for her, expressing it to her in the language that comes naturally to me, and then remembering I need to translate it for her into a different format. That translation might make the gesture feel less spontaneous/passionate but it does not make it so. It’s just a language barrier.

This comes up a lot regarding communication and words of affirmation. I just never seem to affirm her enough, or “mean” it enough, to convince her I love her more than anything. It’s never fucking enough. I feel like I’m not only adding a second step of translation (from touch/acts of service to words of affirmation), but a third step of performance/salesmanship. I can’t trust her to believe a genuine emotion I have about her if I don’t deliver it like a fucking actor. And having to Method-act my way through my own genuine emotions, just to make them feel real and spontaneous enough to her, makes them feel fake and forced to me. I don’t want to have to hard sell my own love to her every goddamn day. I just want to be able to give it as a gift. And know she will receive it as a gift, just the way it is. I’m not a fucking sleazy car salesman trying to pull a fast one on her, but I feel like that’s the only kind of person who could convince her to accept something that’s already real and true.

What’s even worse is that I’m the middle of the fight I noticed a hard seltzer on her nightstand that she’d drank while I was downstairs working. I cannot for the life of me understand her justification for doing that when we have had SO MANY conversations where I laid out this boundary in the clearest possible terms—no drinking alone. None. And if you’re in doubt, ask me. The most recent previous incident leading to this conversation happened maybe a month ago. But of course when I rearticilated this boundary and told her I was hurt by her crossing it AGAIN, she just rattled off excuses. She didn’t think I would mind bc it wasn’t strong enough to make her feel anything, she didn’t do it to hurt me or to get drunk, she didn’t know it was a big deal, she felt like she’d done it in the past and I’d noticed but not cared/said anything (untrue). Fucking bullshit. It doesn’t matter what your intentions are, if you cross a boundary, you apologize and make sure not to do it again. You think ahead. She brought up again how she “felt like” she’d done it many times before without it being a problem, and that I was only bringing this up now as some kind of secret weapon. What a poisonous, childish excuse, to use the fact that you’ve done something behind my back and not gotten caught as evidence that it’s ok and harmless, and that I’m the one doing harm by bringing up the harm it causes me. That’s some next-level shit. I don’t know if she really believes it or just happened to grasp for it as she was scraping the bottom of the barrel. I told her it might “feel like” I’m using it as a weapon, but her feelings do not shape reality. I only brought it up now because I only noticed it now.

Then she apologized in a way that communicated more hostility than anything else—first directed at me, then inward toward herself. I told her I didn’t want her to punish herself, and that seeing her do that actually made me feel worse. I just wanted her to acknowledge what she did, ask how it made me feel, and show me she would do better. But she just said she couldn’t help how she felt.

Then she asked me why I even love her, since all she does is fuck up. Jesus Christ. I told her the reasons why, and I meant them all. And held her while she continued sobbing. And kept my gaze locked on her as she sat there motionless, wordless, for who knows how long, trying to give her all the warmth she needed. At a certain point I told her I needed to get back to work but couldn’t just turn to my computer and ignore her when she’s in this state. More motionless/wordless crying. I asked how I could cheer her up with music or art or ice cream. She said no. Eventually she let me walk her to her car, and she drove home instead of going to work.

Fuck. I really fucking hate this.

#personal #love life

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yamagucji · 3 years

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Embarrassing moments

warnings. just for shits n giggles, 14+ readers preferably, mentions of vomit, poop, choking, etc.

HINATA was extremely constipated and needed to use the bathroom quick. but there’s a long line to the mens bathroom (what’s the occasion anyway??) and he’s standing all the way at the back. poor hinata felt a fart coming so he just couldn’t... hold it in. mans SHARTED. shitted and farted at the same time. it stunk so bad that the guys in front of him said, “damn, you need the toilet more than me,” and let him cut in line.

USHIJIMA and tendou stopped to pet this dog during their walk. tendou’s conversing with the owner while toshi’s petting the dog. dog likes it, it’s all good. until... it got bored and decided that toshi’s butt smelled good. dog just wouldn’t stop sniffing his ass. “please, stop smelling me,” toshi says with desperation, which now catches the others’ attention. the owner has to pry their dog away from toshi’s ass cheeks, please. the awkward tension kinda dies down until tendou utters, “so, what’s your secret? what product are you using?”

YAMAGUCHI drank water in the middle of silent class reading. this boy started choking— and i mean choking on his water. you can hear his muffled coughs in the distance and when you turn around to look at him, his face is all red and his cheeks are puffy. none of his classmates say anything but you can practically feel second-hand embarrassment oozing around. the assistant teacher even has the audacity to say, “drink some water.”

KENMA’s calling this one his last try. he sticks his remaining coins into the slot and tries to get the brand new nintendo box thats in the machine. mf has been going at this for over twenty minutes now. his pouch is empty and there’s a crowd of kids waiting for him. no miracle happens in his last try (shit got stuck!!) so he has to move away only to watch in horror— as the kid after him manages to get it. you’re gonna have to hold kenma down before he hunts that kid with every bit of his soul.

DAICHI had a fat one coming in, that’s for sure. thought it was a free real estate just because everyone else in the camp seemed asleep. so he let that monster fart come out (even partly stuck out his thigh for better airway). whole team was awake in a matter of seconds. nishinoya’s jumped off his sleeping bag and asking everyone if they heard that “loud bang.” tanaka’s over here sniffing around because he knows that no one has got some kind of bomb that stinks.

SAKUSA’s not gonna admit to this one. but one time he opened a bathroom stall (it was unlocked) only to find that it was occupied. there are no words to accurately describe just how horried the sight was. sitting on the toilet was a man taking a shit, with his dick on full boner mode, staring back at sakusa. they only made eye contact for just 2 seconds but sakusa’s seen enough. he’s heard enough too, when said stranger asked him, “you wanna join me?”

ASAHI projectile vomited at the theaters. you should’ve known it was a bad idea to take him out to dinner before going to watch a scary movie. man had no courage to tell you he had an upset stomach nor tell you he’s not a fan of horror. it’s twenty minutes into the movie and he’s poking your arm— but you don’t notice because you’re too engrossed. another twenty minutes, and a jumpscare comes on. man beside you vomits like there’s no tomorrow. ya’ll spend the rest of the movie secretly trying to clean his throw-up.

TENDOU was watching anime in his dorm peacefully. until... the whole shiratorizawa team opened the door just in time for the show to switch up to an inappropriate scene. out of all the times they could’ve walked in, they really had to come when 2d clown man was moaning and fighting a kid? tendou scrambled to close his laptop but now he’s just staring back at his teammates; silent, except for the fact that his show is still playing and you can still hearing moaning in the background.

TSUKISHIMA turned his house upside down and still couldn’t find his glasses, nor his extra pair. he was about to leave bare eyed until his mom caught him and forced him to wear his sports glasses. yeah, the one with the whole strap and everything. mans looked like a fool coming to school with it on. people who didn’t know it was his sports glasses mistook it for swimming goggles. he’s so utterly humiliated now, he can’t even bite back when hinata or kageyama says something.

GOSHIKI... i don’t even know what to tell you. who let this kid go further into the lake by himself? it’s all fun and games for everyone until you hear an ear-defeaning shriek by your one and only goshiki. he’s yelling out, “help me! please! help!!” the lifeguards start kicking in and everyone’s trying to make way. is he drowning? is there something there? no for god’s sake. you find out he just made it 5 ft deep and happened to swim over a bunch of seaweed. never take him swimming again.

ATSUMU decided to check himself out using someone’s car window. he’s fixing his hair, picking at his teeth, and even checking to see if he has any boogers. all of a sudden the window rolls down and there’s a senior citizen staring back at him. “boy do you think my car is your mirror?” the man says in a gruffy voice. atsumu’s knees nearly buckle from how scary this man is and how embarrassed he is of all the four minutes he probably spent with this stranger.

SACHIRO’s job as a vet sometimes makes him do really questionable shit (from an outsider perspective). once he had to ejaculate someone’s dog in front of their owner. uh huh... jack them off, for the sole purpose of examining the dog’s semen. he’s never felt such a wave of regret wash through his body during that whole procedure. it didn’t help when the owner was looking at him mortified, nor the fact that it took such a long time.

OIKAWA does this thing were he shows up unexpectedly behind iwaizumi and slaps his ass. everytime he does it iwa always hits him back (but not the ass). today he learnt his lesson when he mistook a stranger for iwa and slapped the guys ass from the moon and back. when i tell you just how quick all the blood drained from oikawa’s body when the man turned around— you can hear a bag of chips fall at the other end of the aisle and it’s the iwa, who had to witness that whole ass-slap event.

ARAN is gonna knock the shit of the miya twins one day, he swears to god. they sent him a mysterious video during his morning walk, where he stopped at a busy street. it starts off quiet, so he goes to turn the volume up full blast. damn video suddenly started blaring ‘lick my pussy and my-’ please... he’s shaking. passerby’s are looking at him with distaste. aran’s now flushed from embarrassment and running towards the miya house. you can guess what happens next.

BOKUTO walked into the wrong house. spent a whole ten minutes rummaging around the kitchen because his friend said to “make yourself comfortable, i’ll be on my way.” little did this man know that there’s a whole family upstairs waiting for the cops to arrive because they think it’s a robbery. poor bokuto, dragged out of the house by some cops but had no idea what was going on. man was literally just vibing— thinking he was in his friends house.

OSAMU swore this size pants still fit him (hint: it doesn’t). he’s walking through the snack section of the store, lightly limping because damn his dick can’t breath. his truth is tested when he goes to pick something off the lowest shelf and his pants literally go, ‘let er rip.’ fabric tore, and what’s worse is that he was wearing onigiri undies. osamu goes to check if there’s anyone else in the aisle and there is— a group of underclassmen girls from his high school.

KUROO tried to make his chemistry presentation more interesting by putting in jokes. he thought they were funny; kenma even huffed a breath. kuroo’s at his third joke by now and literally no one has laughed. not a single one. except for kuroo himself, who’s awkwardly laughing in a dead-silent room. man was embarrassed. other people are getting second-hand embarrassment by the way they avoided eye contact with him. he vented to kenma later only for kenma to say, “it wasn’t funny. it was just stupid.” poor kuroo.

SUNA accidentally connected his bluetooth to the bus. you know, the one that drives all of inarizaki to their games. wanna guess what the fuck he might’ve been listening to? it’s porn. he’s watching porn in broad daylight. suna doesn’t realize what the issue is until he goes to turn up the volume and notices that the sound is off. he take his airpods off and that’s when he hears pure moaning sounds blaring inside the bus. everyone’s laughing— except for kita and their coach who’s still outside. mf calls himself lucky for that.

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spaceman-earthgirl · 3 years

Text

Supercorptober 2021 Day 2: Secret

Kara’s really not good at this. And admittedly, Lena isn’t great either, but Kara is definitely worse.

Lena feels Kara’s hand ghost along her lower back, her fingers grazing the material of Lena’s dress as Kara steps in close. They stand shoulder to shoulder, Kara standing closer than strictly necessary as she looks down at what Lena is working on.

Lena looks up, does a quick check of everyone else in the tower, but finds no one is paying them any attention.

“How’s it going?” Kara asks, as if it isn’t the third time in the last two hours that she’s asked the same question.

Lena presses her lips together, tries not to laugh. “Good.”

“Good,” Kara grins, eyes scanning the mess in front of them. “What’s that?” she asks, reaching out to point at a component on the desk, but as she does so, Kara’s fingers brush hers, lingering far too long for Lena to think there’s any other motive behind Kara’s gesture except she wants to be close to her.

“What are you doing?” Lena asks instead of answering, mostly to distract herself from the warmth of Kara’s hand, fighting the urge to tangle their fingers together.

“What do you mean?” Kara asks, the picture of innocence as she turns to face Lena. “Can I not say hello to my best friend?”

Kara’s close now, so close, close enough to see the freckles scattered across her cheeks, close enough that she has to use a lot of self control not to glance down at pink lips. It was already a real struggle to keep her eyes off Kara’s lips before they were dating. But now she knows what Kara’s lips feel like, what her kisses taste like, and now she really has to make an effort to keep her eyes up and not just lean forward and kiss her.

It seems like Kara loses the same battle herself, or maybe she wasn’t even trying in the first place, but blue eyes slip down and fix themselves on Lena’s mouth.

“You can,” Lena says, with another quick glance around, conscious of the fact they’re not alone. They’re meant to be keeping their relationship a secret, and it’s a secret that won’t last long if Kara keeps this up. “But best friends don’t usually stare at each other’s lips like that.”

“But we’re not just best friends, are we?” Kara asks, smile soft and God, Lena wants to kiss her so badly.

“No, we’re not,” Lena smiles, feeling stupidly happy in this moment. She’s spent every minute since Kara told her she loves her feeling stupidly happy.

“And I’ll have you know, I stared at your lips a lot before we started dating,” Kara grins. “And you didn’t notice so I don’t think anyone else will now.”

Lena laughs. “Touché.” When Kara had asked her out, she’d been entirely blindsided by the question, she’d had no idea her best friend had feelings for her. But then again, Kara had been surprised by her answer too, completely unaware of Lena’s feelings in return. “But don’t act like you also didn’t miss a few things too.”

That was only one week ago, and since then, they’ve been trying to figure out this thing between them, wanting to keep it to themselves for now without all the added pressure of their friends knowing.

“Supergirl, we have a situation downtown.”

It’s J’onn’s voice that calls out through the tower, startling them both. Lena’s almost certain Kara was going to lean forward anyway and kiss her, and Lena probably would’ve let her, secret be damned.

“Duty calls,” Kara smiles, quickly reaching out to squeeze her hand before she heads towards the balcony.

“Stay safe,” Lena calls, earning a wink and salute before Kara is gone. Lena’s gaze lingers on the empty balcony door, even though Kara could be miles away by now.

“If you two are trying to keep it a secret that you’re dating, you’re doing a terrible job.”

Lena startles again, turns to find Nia watching her with an amused expression. “I-“ Lena clears her throat. “Kara and I? Of course we’re not dating.”

Nia rolls her eyes. “You know this room isn’t that big, we could all hear your conversation.”

“I…” Lena looks around, embarrassed to see J’onn nodding as Alex jumps into this conversation too.

“We all know Kara is terrible at keeping secrets, but you’re just as bad. If you really wanted none of us to know, you definitely shouldn’t have been making out in here the other day.” Alex turns up her nose. “I did not need to see that, thank you very much.”

“And you two definitely looked like you were about to kiss just then too,” Nia says.

“That’s pretty normal though, even before you got together,” Alex adds.

“Don’t forget staring lovingly at each other! That was also pretty normal before you got together but at least now most of those looks are when you’re looking at each other, not just while the other isn’t looking,” Nia continues.

Lena is absolutely mortified, the two of them basically just talking to each other, listing all the ways that they’ve been caught. She knew it would get out soon, but she didn’t think it would take less than a week.

“Why did none of you say anything?” Lena cuts in, worried there’s even more.

Alex shrugs. “Because you two were clearly trying to hide it.”

“Even if you were both bad at it,” Nia laughs.

Lena rolls her eyes. “Okay, I get it, we’re bad liars.”

“Nah,” Alex bumps Lena’s shoulder with her own. “You two are just too in love to be able to hide it. But that is my sister,” Alex says, a sudden steel in her eyes. “If you hurt her, I hurt you.”

“I’ll do my best not to.”

“Good,” Alex nods. “And can you promise me one more thing?”

“Anything.”

“Please please never make out in here again.” Alex visibly shudders. “Or anything more than that.”

Nia is laughing again, Alex has her face screwed up, and Lena is just glad that Brainy isn’t here at the moment, it’s bad enough that J’onn is still across the room working. She wishes Kara were here for this, it would at least take some of the embarrassment away.

The bonus part though, is that when Kara returns, she won’t have to hide her feelings anymore (even if she was doing a poor job of it before).

Fic link: ao3

Series link: ao3

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #supercorptober2021

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babyboibucky · 3 years

Text

Salt, Sugar and Viruses

Pairing: Office!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’ve been secretly making coffee for Bucky at the office.

Word Count: 1,962

Warnings: Two idiots just doing idiot things

A/N: This was done in a haste so I kinda hate it lol but I can’t get this story out of my head and thanks to @bitchassbucky for pushing me to write a full fic of this 🥰 luv u 🥺

MAIN MASTERLIST

"You have a crush on Barnes' grumpy ass?!" Sam choked out.

You angrily hushed him and frantically looked around the pantry to make sure that your secret was still safe. Fortunately, only you, Sam and Nat were inside having your respective afternoon breaks.

"What? He's nice. And cute." you told Sam as you stirred your coffee, smiling to yourself at the thought of your office crush, Bucky.

"How'd you even meet him, he works all the way at the IT department." Sam asked.

Nat snorted recalling the encounters she witnessed for the past few months. Some of which were unintentional but most of them? You had carefully planned out just so you could come up with an excuse to request for Bucky's assistance.

"She might have gotten viruses in her computer once...or twice. Or thrice." Nat teased.

The first time you met Bucky was when most of your files suddenly got corrupted. It was hella embarrassing because you didn't know shit about how computers worked and well, you've been illegally downloading torrents since the office's internet connection was a gift from the internet gods. Without a doubt, your computer was a nest for viruses.

Bucky showed up in your floor that morning and you almost sunk into your seat from shame. You'd heard the IT Department complain about everybody else in the office messing up their computer systems. When you turned around, Bucky greeted you with a charming smile and soft hello. You could still remember how he felt when he stayed behind you as you sat on your chair, bending over to take your mouse in his hand.

God, he smelled so good you almost turned your head to nuzzle your face into his neck.

He was very soft-spoken you realized; Bucky was kind enough to walk you through the process and to be honest, you couldn't recall a damn thing he said. Something about firewalls? And shields? Whatever, you didn't really listen. You just stared at Bucky as he explained everything, solving your problem in less than fifteen minutes.

Since then, your crush for Bucky grew bigger. You'd entered the elevator together a couple of times, shared small conversations that made your heart flutter. When those little moments didn't seem enough, you started your devious plan to fuck up your computer a bit. By the third time Bucky fixed your computer, he was already comfortable enough to tease you for being a "virus magnet".

"Hello? Young lady, come back to earth." Sam snapped his finger right in front of your face, interrupting your thoughts.

You clicked your tongue at him and swatted his hand away. "If you ever tell this to anyone, Wilson. You are dead." you warned, poinitng a finger at him.

Sam rolled his eyes, "It's so unfair how he's kind to you. Last time I requested for his assistance he got all smug and grumpy at me." he complained.

Nat shook her head in amusment, "That's because you've been downloading porn. You know the IT department can access our browser histories, right?"

You choked on your coffe, "WHAT?!"

Nat narrowed her eyes at you, "You been up to no good for you to react like that?"

You faceplamed, "I've been stalking his Facebook account."

Sam chortled, "What are you, in high school? Jesus, calm down. You're gonna be fine. Why don't you just tell him you like him?"

You made a face, "I'm not Nat to have the guts to do that."

Nat hummed, bringing her mug to the sink to wash it. "Why don't you start by making him coffee?"

"I don't know how he likes his coffee."

You received a pointed look from both your friends. You groaned in defeat, "Okay, fine. I know how Bucky likes his coffee."

Nat smirked, "Stalker."

Bucky always arrived in the office half an hour before nine in the morning. This gives him time to settle into his cubicle, buy a sandwich at the stall downstairs and to make himself a cup of coffee. It was his daily routine and upon going back to his desk after buying his breakfast sandwich, Bucky was surprised to see a cup of newly brewed coffee on his desk.

He looked around but there were no signs of anyone. There wasn't even a note of some sort. Carefully, he brought the cup to his face and inhaled its scent. Shrugging, he took a tiny sip.

"How's the little secret admirer doing?" Nat asked, grabbing a chair and sitting down beside you.

You deadpanned, "I've been leaving him his coffee for an entire week now and nothing's happened yet."

Nat frowned, "Are you kidding me? Why would you expect for something to happen when you haven't been leaving any clues?" she said.

"I'm shy, okay?! Maybe I should hide somewhere, check for his reaction. See whether I have a chance." you shrugged.

It was stupid of you to leave the coffee on Bucky's desk. You never stayed to wait for him. You just left it there without a note or anything that would even give him a clue about you and your little crush on him. You knew the reason why, of course. You were afraid of rejection. Sometimes, you'd feel like you have a chance with him since he was always so kind and warm to you. Not to mention, everyone in the office knows him to be grumpy but around you, he was totally the opposite of that.

But then again, maybe he was just nice to you because you were nice to him too.

One morning after leaving Bucky his coffee, you finally decided to leave him a note. You ran back to your cubicle to get a post-it and a pen. Before you could even walk around your desk, you spotted Bucky headed over to the pantry, the cup of coffee in his hand.

"Fuck, okay. Maybe I should just directly ask him out?" you thought to yourself.

You quickly followed Bucky into the pantry and almost whined when you saw that Sam was inside as well. You widened your eyes at him, signalling for him to leave but Sam was preoccupied on observing Bucky who seemed to be in a bad mood.

"Rough morning?" Sam just had to ask as you awkwardly stood by the doorway, finding the right timing to butt in.

Bucky's forehead creased as he let out a huff, "Rough weeks, actually." he answered.

You opened your mouth to say something comforting, wanting to lift Bucky's spirits up but he turned around and glanced at you and then back to Sam.

"Does anyone hate me in this office?" Bucky asked.

You and Sam exchanged looks, both of utter confusion before shaking your heads in unison. "Why'd you ask?" Sam asked.

Bucky lifted the cup of coffee that you made, "Someone's been making me coffee." he stated.

You cleared your throat, "...is it bad?" you asked.

Bucky made a face, "Terrible actually."

Ouch.

"I mean, the first time I saw it I was actually flattered. And then I took a sip and it's just...salty." Bucky said, pouring the coffee into the sink before throwing it into the bin.

Sam's head snapped towards your direction, his face almost red from biting back a laugh. Your face heated up at the realization that you've been putting salt into Bucky's coffee instead of sugar. All this time. You wanted to disappear right then and there. And Sam had to be the one to witness your huge failure.

"I thought it was a mistake since the next day, there was another coffee on my desk. I tried it out and it's still salty. It lasted a week, you guys. And I was dumb enough to keep on tasting it in hopes that it might have been a genuine mistake. But now I'm starting to think that someone hates me that much to fuck my coffee up." Bucky explained, face scrunched up into a mixture of irritation and curiosity.

Sam failed to stifle his laughter and exploded, "Funniest shit I've ever heard." he told Bucky before standing up and making his way to the door where you stood.

Your face was red and if the salt and sugar mishap was already humiliating enough, Sam decided to make things even worse for you.

"You really need to check the labels before pouring shit into his coffee." and with that, Sam gave your shoulder a squeeze before leaving the pantry.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself. When you opened them, Bucky was staring at you with an expression you couldn't paint.

"Did you...were you the one leaving me coffee?" he asked.

You secretly pinched yourself in the arm to check whether you were just dreaming. Fuck, you hoped you were having a nightmare but the pain that you felt made it clear that you totally fucked up.

You nodded in embarrassment.

"You hate me that much?" Bucky asked in disbelief, as if he was offended that out of all people, it had to be you.

You quickly shook your head, "No, God no! I just...it's because I..." you stammered, trying to find the courage to spit out the words you've been dying to tell Bucky.

Bucky tilted his head, "Because you...?" he urged.

Your hands balled into fists as you let out another deep breath. Bucky probably hates you right now, but whatever. This was your only chance and to hell, you were going to confess.

"Because I like you?"

You didn't think that Bucky's confused look could even turn more...well, confused. But he was looking at you incredulously as though you've grown a second head, or a third head.

"You like me so you decided to put salt in my coffee?" he asked again.

You honestly didn't know who sounded even more stupid now, you or Bucky. Because if he still didn't understand what was going on, he was dense as fuck.

"No!" you explained. "I wanted to make you a decent cup of coffee but I guess I was too careless and didn't realize that I've been putting in salt instead of sugar." you said.

Bucky didn't say anything after that. He just stared at you, but he didn't seem confused anymore. If any, he looked like he was processing the entire situation.

"You like me." he stated again.

Will your embarrassment ever end?!

"Yes, Bucky. And I messed up my chance and you know what? I'm just going to show myself out and leave you alone." you told him and forced a fake grin before attempting to walk out.

A hand gripped your wrist, pulling you back into the pantry. This time, Bucky was the one who looked embarrassed.

"I might have...done something pretty stupid too." he said, avoiding your gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You eyed him suspiciously, "What do you mean?"

"I uhh...I did something to your computer...the day before you requested for my assistance for the first time." Bucky admitted shyly.

It was your turn to get muddled at Bucky's confession. "But why?" you asked.

Bucky offered a shy smile, "Because I've been seeing you around the building and thought you were cute."

And then everything clicked. It was a light bulb moment for the both of you.

"Oh. Ohhh okay. I see." you said before suddenly breaking into laughter.

Bucky joined you and scratched his head, "I guess we're both idiots." he said, placing his hands inside his pockets as he stared at you.

"This went...way more interesting than I thought." you said with a nod.

There was a pause before you decided to speak up, "So, do you want coffee?"

Bucky beamed at you as he nodded, "As long as you'll use sugar this time."

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @tcc-gizmachine @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess

#bbbwrites #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #sebastian stan #bucky #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff

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awakeshedreams · 3 years

Text

sugar and spice ( 1 )

pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader

setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au

summary :

a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school's resident bad boy.... Jeon Jungkook.

genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension

rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content

warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don't like don't read XD

wordcount : 2.3K

a/n : i've been fighting in a long standing war and I have lost. the man known as jeon jungkook had his foot on my neck for years and today, I have finally submitted to my fate and surrendered to his reign.

yes. after a hundred years, i'm writing again. specifically, writing for bts. particularly, writing for jungkook. its been a long time coming.

life just took over and I transitioned into an adult and kind of grew out of the state of mind I was in before. but. sigh. jeon jungkook has been tormenting me the whole time. it was only a matter of time before i relapsed honestly.

so here I am again. in mind, body and spirit, a different person from who I was before but still the same in the sense that with the way bts have my whole heart, jk will always be the demon in the corner of my room that I invite to bed for a cuddle even though it's (probably really) not good for me.

do not misconstrue. I love him more than I can say. but. sigh. he has me in a chokehold, loves. please try to understand where I'm coming from.

anyways, enough with this ranting. you all came here for the nitty gritty so let me not hold you hostage with my dilemma rambling any longer. here's to the first bts fic i've posted in literal years. introducing- sugar and spice.

1 2

Unless they told someone, no one would have been able to guess it.

At school they were complete strangers.

She was the nice head girl with a clean record, all smiles and straight A’s. He was the mysterious bad boy with a track record, all tatted up with bruised knuckles.

She wore plaid skirts with neat pleads in them and pastel sweaters with bows at the collar. He wore jeans with rips in them and leather jackets with studs.

They couldn't have been any more different.

As far as anyone was concerned, they existed on two extreme ends of a vast spectrum.

What they didn't know was that they shared a dirty little secret.

You were a girl with many dirty secrets.

For instance, you used to sell nudes online. It was a side hustle you did.

Not because you needed money.

Your mom was a renowned doctor so there was more than enough of that in your life.

Not because you needed validation from people online either.

Even without the constant compliments and the praises you knew you were visually blessed with a pretty face and a nice body too.

All things considered, you simply thought you had a nice pair of tits and you took pictures of them sometimes.

Posting the shots you snapped online came much later when you heard about this website where people were getting paid crazy money for posting racy things.

‘It’s just so degrading…’ It was one of your friends, June, who sneered, pretty nose scrunched up. She fixed her long ponytail and rolled her brown eyes while looking in the mirror at her locker. ‘Who would do such a thing, am I right?’

She said this, but June was the girl who has slept with more boys than she could count on her two hands. And those were the ones she told you about.

Like every other time, you said nothing. Even when it carried on to lunch with the rest.

‘Pretty desperate if you ask me.’ Mei the stellar track runner shrugged casually as she stretched her limbs like routine.

‘Where are their parents?’ Nina the library nerd shook her head in disapproval as she fixed her glasses so it sat right on the bridge of her nose.

‘Um… I don’t think it’s … appropriate… to talk about ….’ Kiko the one who always carried a cross and bible around mumbled into her sleeve.

All your friends spoke of it in derision and repulsion of course. This was a school for proper children so they were proper girls. At least they were supposed to be.

Regardless the conversation sparked a curiosity in you.

So you made an account and uploaded your first picture. Nothing bizarre. Just your tits in a pretty lace bra.

You made sure to keep your face out of the frame because that was the smart thing to do and you were nothing if not the smartest student in school.

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting anything out of it. In fact, in between work with student council and tutoring your juniors with finals right around the corner, you even forgot about it for an entire month.

It was by a complete whim that you decided to open the app while you’d been unwinding at your desk following a tedious day at school.

To say you were amused by the response you found waiting for you would have be a grave understatement.

You were staring at the four figure digit that now sat in your bank account.

Reading through the comment section was even more interesting.

There were all sorts of people there who had all sorts of things to say. Ranging from honestly sweet to downright dirty.

You had never been brought to tears laughing in her life before until then.

It was just so funny to see people misbehave and lose their minds over a pair of tits.

From then on it just sort of became a thing.

But that wasn't the worse of your secrets.

You were making a name for yourself on the crude web months later.

The next step was naturally to move from making taking pictures to making videos. Since you was already in too deep you didn’t see why not.

So you upgraded and opened another account. An amateur one where your touched yourself for an audience.

You were no prude.

You might have never been touched by a boy before but you had touched yourself plenty times. Stress and frustration came hand in hand with being head girl. Since you couldn’t quite vent it out at the annoying troublemakers at school, this was your second best option.

Third was watching porn, but that was mostly when you were extremely bored.

But that wasn’t where that little endeavor ended.

Later on it became a lot more risqué.

It all started when your mom hit you with a marriage announcement.

She met a guy on her business trip who she really liked and she was convinced he was the one.

Your mom had a tragic history of being a bad judge of character.

You’ve had this conversation at least five times since you became old enough to understand that boys and girls who were just friends didn’t kiss and sleep with each other.

Most times, it felt like she was doing it because she thought you needed a dad around.

You might have once, when you were younger and your mom was too busy with work to be there. But she worked from home these days and you were soo busy with school to worry about things like that.

This time it was like she was doing it for her. You were glad.

Your mom looked genuinely happy when she spoke about this guy.

Who were you to get in the way?

She spent almost the whole weekend in the kitchen. It was the longest you’ve seen her in there in your entire life.

She was excited for the dinner on Sunday.

Mr Jeon was the name of the chosen man.

He was coming over with his kid. A son, his only family. His wife passed away years ago.

You wore the dress your mom picked out for you, something cream in color and off the shoulders that brushed your knees. She looked pretty in her champagne dress. It was different from the office slacks and loose blouses you were used to seeing her in.

You stood by her at the door while the guests came through.

Lifting your head from a polite bow, you found herself staring straight into an achingly familiar pair of glinting dark eyes and went completely still.

‘Sweetie,' Your mother said sounding delighted, a soft hand on your stiff shoulder. 'This is Mr Jeon and his son Jungkook.’

Ah. Fuck.

‘Jeon dear, this is my daughter. Isn’t she lovely?’

Dinner was a mild affair, with small talk and the occasional clinking of cutlery on fine china.

From the outside looking in, you probably looked the picture perfect family already.

Only if no-one looked close enough.

Arms crossed, tongue in cheek. Your discomfort could be detected from miles away.

The two adults were oblivious.

The dark eyed boy with the slightest wave to his nape touching, brow grazing, ear covering onyx hair sat across you though; he took note of this with a passing glance and wordlessly returned to his food.

Jeon Jungkook had a countenance that betrayed his reputation.

Even though you’ve never talked, you knew plenty about him and you were sure he knew a lot about you too.

You went to the same school.

Dressed as he was in a crisp white dress shirt buttoned at the wrist and dark tailored pants with a fine belt on, it might have been hard to tell what kind of person he really was.

You lifted her gaze from your plate to look study him wordlessly, idly twisting the noodles with your fork.

People either called him the black sheep or the dark cloud but for you, Jeon Jungkook was the school’s resident lone wolf.

He smoked in the secluded areas on campus, sometimes playing his guitar. Beat up people who got on his nerves, sometimes using his guitar. Slept in class the rare times he was there, many times on his guitar.

Being his senior, you had never seen any of any of that for yourself. But you received plenty reports weekly to come to a sound conclusion.

There was no way people hated him enough to join hands in solidarity and make this all up.

It was quite the contrary actually. He had an alarming number of fans.

On the surface level you couldn’t see why. Most times you saw him, he looked bored out his mind and honestly, intimidating.

Maybe it was the tattoos. Or the ripped skinny jeans. Or the leather jackets with studs.

Maybe it was the domineering height and fit frame and structured face.

Maybe it was the intense dark eyes or the silky ruffled hair.

Even then, you failed to see the irresistible appeal in him. All those things that made him up only added to his unapproachable aura.

Bottom line was, he was bad news.

You didn’t want to be a spoil sport.

But how much of a thug your mom’s boyfriend’s son was shouldn’t be something that would make her like him less.

They were both their own people. Right ?

It was just that you just didn’t want her to be shocked and devastated if something happened later. When it happened.

Yet it seemed the serious conversation would have to wait.

After dinner your mom suggested you head to the living room to chat over wine and cheese.

You stayed back to do take out the dishes.

Earlier, your mom had stood to do it instead at first.

‘Don’t bother with that, dear.’ She reached for the plates in your hands. ‘Let me do it.’

‘It’s okay, mom.’ You smiled a little. ‘This is your night. I’ll meet you in the living room.’

'Sweetie...' Your mom looked close to tears. ‘But there’s so much of it…’

‘Jungkook,’ his father's voice had cut through the moment. He was a serious man in a crisp suit with a stoic countenance. His voice was just naturally authoritarian without him trying ‘Give her a hand.’

Jungkook stood, almost robotically.

‘It’s fine.’ You said. Politely. Nicely. Tightly. ‘I can handle this much.’

You left without another word.

That had been moments ago and now you were done with cleaning.

You stood at living room entrance for a while, taking in the scene.

The two adults were exchanging moon eyes and whispering in each other’s ears at the love seat.

Jungkook was sitting on a solo seat, but he was on his phone, completely unbothered by what was happening.

Your mom seemed to think it was the perfect time to pull out the photo album right then and there upon seeing you.

It was embarrassing but at least you knew you didn’t have to worry about the pictures spreading at school.

Jungkook was looking, picking up a picture occasionally to rove over, but he wasn’t the type to do that.

He also wasn’t the type to stare but you felt his glance shifting to you and lingering multiple times.

Once, you caught his eyes and he just stared at you across the coffee table wordlessly with a curious tilt to his head, idly flipping a picture of you dressed as a knight in glitter shining armor for Halloween at eight in his hands.

Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.

But you endured. For your mom’s sake.

Your alarm went off at exactly ten.

As subtly as you could, you excused yourself with an apology to the guests, saying you weren't really feeling well.

In hindsight you probably should have used a better excuse.

Your mom was notorious when it came to worrying, especially when it comes to your health.

Also, you probably should’ve locked the door before undressing just for good measure since people were over.

But in the moment, you were too busy setting your camera up where you were kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed to be concerned about that.

That day you were testing out a new toy.

Distractedly, you took note of a couple of people asking you if that was your boyfriend’s shirt you had lifted over your tits.

You ignored them.

Couldn’t a girl own an oversized tee without getting any flack?

Trivial comments like that aside, a good majority of the audience are fawning over how wet you were and how perfect you bouncing tits look being played with.

Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut.

You were sitting there, knees raised to your chest and legs splayed, your gushing pussy in full display where the toy was stuffed deep into her tightness, vibrating pleasantly.

‘I’m close…’ you mumbled throatily, squeezing your tits and pinching your stiff nipples in between your moving fingers. You moved your hips move faster, feeling the toy buzz against fluttering walls. You took a hand off one of your tits to rub at your engorged clit. ‘Fuckfuckfuck…’

Deep in your high, you didn’t hear the door open and close with a foreboding click.

You only heard your name being called by a deep, smooth voice through the heady haze.

Instantly you stilled.

When you snapped your head to look over her shoulder Jungkook was there, hands in his pockets, leaning against your doorframe with his sleeves drawn up to his elbows, muscle roped, inked skin on full display.

When he tilted his head to the side a little, appraisively, you dared to say as a quaking chill ran down your spine and your entire body felt like it was about to burst into flames, a bit of his hair fell over his face.

His eyes were like two black in the dark as he took you in, dragging his gaze up and down your exposed body languidly.

In the back of your mind, you wished the ground would part and swallow you whole.

‘Your mom,' he starts, capturing your attention wholly, dark gaze finally flickering to your face, his voice suddenly lower, hoarser. ‘She sent me over to check on you.’

It took you a moment to realize where you were, who you were, who he was.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dropped over your head.

Jeon Jungkook, the school's resident trouble maker, soon to be your step brother, just walked in on you fingering yourself in in front of a recording camera.

Well. Yeah.

You gulped.

You were royally fucked.

depending on the response I get I might ( most probably will ) delete this. not because I'm ashamed of my work. because I'm embarrassed of myself. I really swore to never write again and here I am. sigh. yes, I have seen my previous works and noticed just how terrible they were and this is a big reason why. so sorry for putting you through that. a million apologies.

also, that's right. I have adopted a new style which might not be to everyone's liking. another reason why.

anyways, if you liked this filth ( i know it seems mild but I can tell you it's very likely gonna get worse ) please idk uh... fuck this isn't ao3. hm.

like and drop by in the ask box if you liked it and want to see more. it makes me happy. its like serotonin fuel to me.

have a nice day. see you next time ( maybe ). stay fresh. yeah. 💜💜.

#bangtan #bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts smut #bts au #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts high school au #jungkook high school au

452 notes · View notes

folkloreguk · 3 years

Text

French Class [7]

A/N: AAAH I apologize in advance for this part bc I feel like it's kinda messy :/ I hope you still like it though?? Lmk what you think! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, angst, H/N is a jealous and drunk fool :/

words: ~ 3.7 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @yeostars, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon, @tr-wemoon, @prismwon

couldn’t tag: @chorizoek, @r-eadings

H/N’s POV:

Maybe I’ll come ‘round, your text had said. How did you expect him to enjoy the party if you wouldn’t be there? H/N used to make fun of guys who ran after girls like lap dogs. And yet, over time he had become one of them, if not worse. Every text, every possibility of seeing you had him on the edge of his seat in excitement. There was nothing he cared about more than spending time with you. When at first it had been sexual attraction – an obsession with your body and the way you turned him on with the most subtle words and touches – it had changed into something entirely different. The relentless hunger was now occasional, ever so often interrupted by a dire wish to see you smile. A wish to hold you, and to kiss you out of the blue – something he wasn’t allowed to do if it wasn’t for the two of you hooking up. The stupid agreement you had made was starting to feel like torture instead of heaven. He was lucky his poker face was professional, and he had years of practice in flirting and sounding casual even if his heart was beating up to his neck. There was no other way he could have concealed how infatuated he was with you, otherwise.

“H/N, come help me set up the snacks!” Korain shouted from the kitchen. H/N’s friends were throwing a party at their place, and he had shown up early to assist them in preparing everything. With you on his mind – as always – he trotted into the kitchen where a row of bowls was standing out on the counter.

“Just open and pour the bags into the bowls, will you? I still need to get ready,” Korain said. “Chohee said she might be here a bit earlier, and I don’t want to look like this when she’s going to look amazing.”

Korain gestured to his bed hair he probably hadn’t brushed once since getting up and then tweaked the fabric of his sweatpants and his old, baggy tee. H/N wanted to argue that if Chohee really liked Korain, she wouldn’t mind seeing him this way. H/N, for one, couldn’t care less what you wore tonight. As long as you showed up at all, he would be beaming. Strictly speaking, at times when he got to see you wake up, sleep in your eyes and your clothes in a disarray, it spun his head in ways no little black dress could ever do. When he saw you make breakfast in his kitchen, in his shirt, he could barely contain himself.

His daydreams of you were once naughty and gave him boners at random times of the day – and don’t get me wrong, they still were, sometimes – but it was when the domestic dreams had begun, that he realized he was screwed. He didn’t need anybody to tell him how he felt, nor did he have some crazy moment of clarity. There came a point in his days where he didn’t just notice his non-sexual daydreams of you, he invited them. His brain was imagining things like setting up a shared table for dinner or kissing the back of your hand in the dark of a movie theater or playing you a cheesy song that reminded him of you. He wanted to hold your hands from across the library table and have his arm around your shoulders to show you off to the entire campus. But none of it could be real. It all went against the rules.

“Will Y/N be here too?” Korain asked and pulled H/N out of his daydreams. God, I hope so, he thought.

“She said she might be here,” H/N answered.

“Chohee’s always talking about her. And you. About how she thinks Y/N has a crush on you, but she always denies it, saying you’re just friends. Maybe you could try and bring that up tonight?” Korain said, as if discussing your feelings for someone was as easy at conversing about the weather. “Alright, I really have to go get ready now.”

“I’ve been thinking, I might- “ said H/N, but Korain only pat his shoulder.

“Let’s talk later, at the party, okay?” he said, and walked out the kitchen. I might like her, H/N had been meaning to say. I might like Y/N. No. I’m in love with her. No maybes. He could bet all his money on it, that’s how sure he was. But his friend had disappeared and now it was on him to wait until the party began. Left alone with his thoughts.

Of course, you would deny having a crush on him. Because you probably didn’t, he thought. Wouldn’t you search for a smart guy, someone your mother would approve of, and someone who understood your endless talks of nerdy topics? Although sometimes he had no idea what you were on about, H/N was captivated whenever you gave him a lecture about something you had learned. And when he asked you to explain something one more time, you never hesitated, or judged him for it. Your kindness made his heart swell, and only when the first crowd of party guests arrived did he realize he had spent half an hour daydreaming about you. Again.

With the way he kept the front door in his sight at all times, one could have wondered if he was a highly wanted criminal on the run, afraid the cops could barge in at any moment. Some of the girls who tried to flirt with him even asked him about it, but he wasn’t going to confess he was waiting for the love of his life to walk through that very door. With little conviction he returned their flirting. He hated himself for the thoughts he had. Thinking that should you not arrive, he could console himself by taking one of the other girls home instead. They didn’t deserve to be used like that, but he was bitter and so, so in love with you. It was hard to pay any attention to the other girls at all, no matter how sweet they were being.

Flirting back at them, however, came to him as easily as the words to his favorite songs. It posed no challenge, like it did with you. When he had to try hard to make your cheeks heat up, or to lure out a shy smile instead of your genius, quick-witted remarks. There was nothing more exciting to him than to invent new ways in which he could make you flustered.

Right now, it was his turn to be flustered. Because his ex had approached him and was reciting some of her favorite memories she had of their relationship. “Remember our third date…the one that ended with us squished in that tiny dressing room at Victoria’s Secret?” she asked and blinked at him expectantly. He went along with her words and replied something not too direct, but still enough to make her giggle like a little girl.

It was his own fault she was so intent on talking to him. While you had been on your date with the economy-major-guy, H/N had tried to contact his ex again. In hindsight, he thought it pathetic and extremely stupid at that. Nothing would have come of it, anyway. Not while he felt the way he did about you. So it was only lucky his ex hadn’t been free that night. Then he had gotten dangerously close to drowning his feelings in the vodka in his kitchen. Thankfully he had refrained from this, too, because you had shown up afterwards and you had ended up having mind-blowing sex, and he knew for a fact that had he been drunk, he would have blurted out some crazy sentiments he would have regretted saying in the morning.

Sometimes he tried to signal you his emotions, ever so subtly. Waving off your claims when you called him the campus fuckboy or telling you he wasn’t really hooking up with anyone else besides you, it all was an attempt at making you see what he felt for you. He would tell you that you looked pretty, not just so you would understand he liked you, but simply because it had to be said. When he regarded you fixing your hair in the mirror with a frown, he could barely believe you didn’t know how beautiful you were. And he had gotten closer to you during sex. Whether it was voluntary or an instinct that came with being in love, he wasn’t certain. There was nothing like kissing away your moans while he fucked you into a mattress.

He was about to text you – the urge to see you getting unbearable – but didn’t want to sound clingy when you strut through the door. No slow motion or fan blowing your hair around dramatically would have made you look more perfect. The ridiculous pang he felt in his heart when he saw you hug another guy only reminded him of how whipped he was. He reminded himself that he had no right to be jealous. You weren’t his girlfriend, after all. When you then made eye contact with him and made a beeline for him, he was worried he’d be short of words. He needed to pull himself together.

“Hi,” you said, and your smile was magical enough to stir up the butterflies in H/N’s stomach. You pointed at the empty spot on the sofa between H/N and another guy you didn’t know. “Is this seat taken?”

“No,” the guy said, before H/N had time to speak, and the stranger smiled at you in a way that could only mean he wanted to get to know you. But H/N caught your attention by swiftly putting his arm around your shoulder, making the stranger back up and divert his eyes the other way. He had never meant to be the jealous type. It was just that you were finally here, and he was so happy to see you, he couldn’t bare the thought of you running off again. Only when you gave him a funny look H/N realized he needed to calm down if he didn’t want you to get annoyed.

“So, what did I miss?” you asked.

His ex was approaching from across the room again, and before he could have stopped his mouth, he said the stupidest thing. “Kiss me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but he was intent on it. “Please. Kiss me. Quick.”

There was a strange emotion that crept over your face, and you seemed to have no clue why he was so set on it. Nevertheless, you did as he asked. Your mouth tasted of watermelon bubblegum, so sweet, so perfect, and he was flying on cloud nine for the short while it lasted. It wasn’t real, though. The thought stabbed his brain like a dagger. When you pulled apart you were grinning, and his ex wasn’t in the room anymore.

“Care to explain why we just did that?” you asked. “You’re diminishing your chances with the ladies in the room.”

He rolled his eyes. “My ex has been trying to get with me again, and I hoped she’d let off if she saw us kiss. And she did.” Then his eyebrows raised. “What do you mean by my chances with the ladies? I was hoping we could go home together.”

“I can’t tonight,” you said, and he had to fight to keep his face straight. “I’ve got to get back to studying first thing tomorrow morning. I just came here to hang out, for a while.”

“Oh,” was all he could muster without sounding like you were ripping out his heart. It wasn’t even your fault. He would never try and get between you and your studies. But what if he could be there? What if he could be the one staying in bed, watching as you climbed up early to bury your head in books? He’d watch you through tired eyelashes, and you’d ridicule him for being so starry-eyed when looking at you. Later he’d bring you tea or coffee and remind you to take a break to eat. Was it ludicrous to obsess over something so domestic? He didn’t feel guilty for it.

All at once, your laugh pulled him out of his daydream, and into a funny story you told him. Over-consciously, he noted how your arm went around his shoulder lazily. And for a while you sat and talked. Occasionally a flirty remark slipped over your lips, and he would always return it. It was idiotic, but he was already worrying about how much he would miss you once you went home. Perhaps his plan of consoling himself with another girl hadn’t been so bad, after all. Just as he had finished the thought, a familiar face walked by and noticed him. The alcohol in his veins made her seem perfectly inviting as a distraction, for later.

“Oh, hey. Y/N, this is Minji,” he said, pointing at the girl. “Minji, this is Y/N. She’s…just a friend.”

Instantly, you removed your arm from his shoulder. There was hidden pain in your gesture, or was it merely wishful thinking on his side? Minji nodded and greeted you, but you only waved her off with a polite smile.

“I’m going to get a drink from the kitchen,” you announced, and before he could have stopped you, you had walked off. For a while he chatted with Minji, because he had no good reason to run after you that wouldn’t create awkwardness. His patience lasted approximately ten minutes. Luckily, a friend waved at Minji from across the room and she excused herself. Although he would never wish her ill, he was glad she was leaving.

Quickly, he made his way to the kitchen, where he found you talking to a guy. Without thinking, H/N smiled at you as he came up to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. He hadn’t meant to look so intimidating, and he hadn’t meant to be an asshole either. Yet, the guy across from you appeared scared and when you turned your attention to H/N, the guy slowly retracted into another circle of chatting people. Guilt crept in on H/N. He was tipsy, and although he knew his drunkenness wasn’t an excuse, it made him want you so much more. Perhaps it was also insecurity making him act crazy. There was always a glimmer of hope in the back of his mind, that you might just like him back. So long as you hadn’t confirmed the opposite, he would live in constant terror that someone else could steal your attention and make you theirs before he could.

“Come with me,” you muttered in his ear. Your hand was around his wrist, and he had no choice but to trot after you like a child. At first, he thought you were going to take him out the front door, but then you made a turn for the stairs. He didn’t need to be a fuckboy to know what it meant when a girl walked him up the stairs. From one second to the other, his mood changed into gleefulness. Had you changed your mind? The mere thoughts of what could happen upstairs could have given him a boner, had he pondered on them for longer. You said nothing, only driving him more insane by the second. The first open door was good enough for you, so you pulled him inside and closed it behind you. Smirking, he reached for your waist, ready to pull you into a kiss.

“Don’t,” you hissed, and he flinched at your angry tone. He kept his hands to himself, kneading them nervously. Shit. This was the clear opposite of what he had anticipated. The two of you had never fought, and hearing your voice, sounding so deeply upset, scared him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to make out- “ he said.

“I don’t mean just now. I mean…what is it you’re trying to achieve by acting all possessive over me in front of random guys? Pretending I belong to you? But the second a pretty girl is in front of you I’m just a friend, aren’t I? What’s that about?”

There was no explaining this, and he knew it. Yet, he would try, pathetically. “I just thought you didn’t want those guys bothering you.”

“I can handle a guy by myself, thank you,” you snapped. “If I needed help, I’d ask. Like you did. Apparently, I’m good enough to be used as an escape from your ex, but when hot Minji came around you wouldn’t even blink when I got up and left.”

“Usedas an escape?” he asked in disbelief. “You didn’t have to kiss me, but you did anyway.”

“That’s because I was trying to be a good fucking friend!” you yelled now, sounding over the music from the party.

“You used me too, don’t you remember?” he countered. “Or did you not show up on my doorstep after your terrible date so I would fuck you and make you feel better?”

You looked taken aback for a moment, knowing he was right, in a way.

“It’s like you’re always trying to get away from me, but you can’t,” he said.

“Oh, fuck you!” you said, every trace of guilt washed away. “Get off your high horse! Isn’t that the whole point of us? That we’re using each other for sex? Nothing more than that, right? If I walked out now, you could go and find the next girl in line to take over instead of me. Didn’t you try to see someone while I was chatting to the guy I went on a date with? It’s all about using people, isn’t it? If things with the guy had gotten more serious for me, you’d have her, ready for you. Don’t you think that’s a little messed up? Leading someone on like that?”

There was truth to your words. He had tried to find someone to date, should you have found someone too and your friends-with-benefits relationship had been over. But he hadn’t led her on. He had been honest in letting the girl know he wasn’t sure if he wanted anything serious. His chest was hurting, and the pain was only making him more furious.

“Yeah, I could have switched you for her,” he said coldly. Was he only trying to hurt you now? Perhaps, but you had hurt him first.

“Right, because that’s all I am to you,” you said, quieter than before.

“That was our plan! You’re my fuck buddy, nothing more!” he raised his voice now, tired of your empty words and signs. “You have no right to accuse me of anything when I’m playing by the rules. The rules you made. Maybe we should go back to the beginning. Start the game over. I don’t even know what we’re arguing about right now.”

“Start over?”

“Go back to when we were just horny for each other and nothing else,” he said, as if that would be possible. As if he could ignore the way your eyes shined, even in the dim light coming from the streetlamps outside. Like he could pretend he didn’t want to hold you and make you forget all about this terrible fight.

“Fine, let’s try,” you said, and he watched in astonishment, as you closed the gap between the two of you. When you tilted your head, he gave you permission by doing the same. When you kissed, with teeth clashing and exhausted sighs mixing up, he swore there were bombs going off somewhere in his head. Alarm bells, too. This was by no means a great idea. But what could have stopped him and his hungry mouth? He backed you against the wall and pressed you into it, hard. Before he had registered it, his hands were pushing up the fabric of your dress and you moaned, sounding so beautiful he could barely believe it. One of his thighs forced its way between your legs while he gripped your waist like his life depended on it.

But then, just as rapidly you had begun to kiss him, you pushed him away. His lungs felt tight when he noticed the affliction and confusion on your face. He wished he could make it go away. But he had caused it, so now his presence only made things worse.

“No- no, I change my mind. This is fucking stupid,” you said. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Y/N,” he said in a gentle tone. Somehow, it seemed that his careful voice hurt you most of all.

“I think we should stop. All of this,” you said. He was beginning to shake his head in disbelief, but you cut him off. “We said there wouldn’t be jealousy, but there obviously is. We should have stopped long ago.”

“But what about starting the game again, from the beginning?” he asked, too afraid of what you would say to even look at you. If you were going to rip out his heart you should have done so quickly, when he wasn’t paying too close attention.

“The game’s over. This is going over both of our heads,” you said. “I- I’m going to go home now.”

So this was heartbreak. H/N had never considered that it could be meant so literally. But he could swear that the muscle inside his chest was convulsing and shriveling as if you had stolen the blood that kept him alive right from his arteries. The pain was sharp like a thousand cuts had been inflicted on his skin, and he struggled for words like your words had taken every of his most elemental abilities.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

“No,” you said. “You’re drunk. You’re the one who could need someone to walk you home. And I don’t want you around me right now. Get home safely.”

That was it. No hug. No last, longing look. Just your words stabbing like knives and your ethereal beauty as you turned on your heel and walked from the room, leaving him behind, bleeding out by himself. What had he done?

209 notes · View notes

arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

Text

Graveyard Siblings (3)

Some for revenge and some sibling bonding.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 2)

-------

Adrien was next to be visited. Plagg woke him up from his sleep.

-------

“Kit, wake up. I want camembert.”

“Plagg, silence. You are not getting any cheese if you do that.”

“Sorry, Adrien but you are not my ‘master’ anymore.”

“Plagg? Why are you here? Where’s the ring?”

“The ring is as far away as possible and kept safely away. I am here because someone wants to talk to you.”

“Who?”

A cloaked, hooded figure stepped out of the shadows to his room.

“Kitty. My Chaton. Did you miss me?” A sweet, familiar but yet so terrifying voice came from the figure.

She pulled down the hood to reveal Ladybug with a wicked-looking black mask with white lenses.

“What am I talking about? You do miss me. Your Bugaboo. Too bad I don’t feel the same, Adrien.”

Lightning flashed and it started to rain. The mask was gone, revealing his dead classmate, Marinette with chilling red eyes. The pigtails grew longer and curved upwards, giving the illusion of her having horns. Twin blades flashed and she leaped towards him. (Damian gave them to her with some lessons in exchange for spending time with, babysitting, the kwamis.)

Adrien scrambled away from the bed in the nick of time. A sword impaling the spot where he just was.

“Plagg, help. Where is the ring? I need to transform.”

“Sorry, kitten. I am not telling you. Even if you did have the ring, it’s not going to be much help.”

“Kitty, stay still. Then, we can be together. Just like you wanted.”

Adrien continued to dodge.

“What do you mean?” He all but screamed at Plagg.

“Pigtails, here, is a vengeful spirit. She’s not going to stop until she is satisfied. How about asking her what she wants?”

“Ladybug, what do you want?”

“What I wanted was a partner I could rely on, someone I can trust with my life, someone who wouldn’t stab me in the back for his own selfish gain. I wanted a friend who would have my back and not tell me to keep quiet at the price of my mental health and my relationships with people I care about. WAS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!”

She managed to get a cut on his left cheek.

Soon, he was on the ground, bleeding out on the round.

“Tell Hawkmoth that he better watch out. Because-” lightning struck and Plagg and Ladybug had disappeared, “his downfall is coming.” Her voice echoed through his room.

Adrien laid bleeding until Natalie opened the door after hearing a crash from the room and came to check on him. As she called an ambulance for Adrien, she wondered if it wasn’t too late to ask for redemption and be spared from Ladybug’s wrath for her part in her murder.

Adrien had the word ‘TRAITOR’ carved into his back. Forever reminding him of his crimes.

--------

He wasn’t in school for a week after the incident. They all were told that Adrien had an accident while fencing.

Gabriel was a little panicking now.

He hired an exorcist, (John Constantine got a hefty amount and did a few flashy magic tricks to appease Gabriel but he didn’t lift the curse Maria put on the place. She is not someone to be on the bad side of and he thinks that he can’t lift it even if he wanted to.)

Emilie gets a little sus at Gabriel when he brought this strange man with a British accent into their home after their son got attacked in his own room with security tighter than Fort Knox.

She doesn’t buy that ‘accident’ bullshit that her husband, son and even Natalie tries to sell her. She thinks it is connected to what happened while she was in a coma.

-----

Adrien has a curse too.

(Credit to @raeuberprinzessin for giving me an idea)

He couldn’t act like the ‘Perfect Adrien’ in public anymore. Acting more like Chat Noir at first then, later a spoiled brat. His friends thought that he was finally rebelling against his father and encouraged it a lot.

Adrien started criticizing other people, strangers at first then to the people working on the photoshoots to his fans to his other school mates, people in his class and his friends. (The curse planted ideas into his head about what he should say and he said them all without thinking about the effect it has on other people)

People started avoiding him not liking his attitude and his comments about how they should behave and change something about them because he doesn’t like it that way and guilt-tripping them when he doesn’t get his way. Even Nino started to distance himself after he saw how Adrien talked to a fan.

The public thought it was a phase but as he got progressively worse, people started despising him. Adrien doesn’t realize this of course so far, happy that his father let him get away with ‘ruining the Agreste image.’ (Gabriel was worried about a potential vengeful ghost and making sure his wife didn't know about his stint as a supervillain. There was also the fact that the Afterlife made more sales than him again and managed to get on the cover of Vogue when he should have, dammit.) He was finally able to say what he wanted to without repercussions. Until he realized when Nino and everyone else cancelled for a hangout for the third time that week that he was slowly losing his friends.

He panics and tries to fix the situation. He didn’t want to be alone again.

He talks to Nino about it and to his horror, he couldn’t stop himself from saying many things that were a little hurtful. (Second part. The moment he realizes he is going to be alone. He is going to find out that yes, lies can hurt people. He is going to see it happen firsthand.)

Nino moved seats and told Adrien that their friendship was on hold until he apologized.

Soon, nearly every time his mouth opened, lies and insults about his friends or their embarrassing secrets came spilling out. Everyone hated him now and Mme. Bustier tried to give him a reprimand about his behaviour, which when he tried to defend himself, he found himself unable to speak.

He managed to explain to his father what caused his unpopularity by writing what happened to him. Unfortunately due to his poor behaviour before the second part of the curse was activated, his fan base was dwindling and people didn’t like him anymore so there was a hit on the Gabriel brand.

He no longer has to do modeling, clearing his schedule. But no one would spend time with him.

The best solution he could do with his predicament was to keep quiet and endure the loneliness and the glares of his classmates at school. Adrien was relegated to the back and nearly everyone avoided him. He was now a social pariah.

Even Lila avoided him because of her own curse which made Adrien turn into one of her previous victims. (She also didn’t ponder why Marinette rarely appears compared to the others.)

If Adrien felt a tiny bit remorseful or guilty for making Marinette keep quiet or betraying Ladybug, he can gain a little control over what he says.

The curse can be broken if he apologizes to Maria herself or to her grave.

------

The first few months, while Marinette adapted to living with the Waynes, Jason stayed over at Wayne Manor because having Maria living with him at his apartment wasn’t a good idea and he had no clue how to take care of a teenage girl.

On paper she is adopted by Bruce because Jason can’t. (Some CPS reasons.)

Making Jason a little more salty towards Bruce. “I found her first. I called dibs.”

Brought Maria to meet the other Outlaws and they adopted her too. “Hey, guys. She’s my sister first.”

Jason was the one to teach her how to shoot a gun because he was ‘the most capable’ of teaching her.

The first few months were a little tense with Marinette not fully trusting them and the same with the rest of the Batfam.

Jason warmed her up a bit to him by telling a little of why he took her here.

He was also the one to book them flight to Paris with Bruce’s credit card so she can tell her friends that she wasn’t dead in person.

They bonded more after stopping some nefarious plot in Paris while they were there. Let’s say Gentleman Ghost and something involving the catacombs in Paris. (I watched some Batman: Brave and the Bold for childhood nostalgia.)

Kwamis were animal-shaped and they were interesting creatures to be around. And very very curious.

There was a stressful day for Maria when all the Kwamis decided to play hide and seek. Damian somehow got roped into helping her as the only available person in the Manor and he will deny that he enjoyed it.

Damian is the little brother she always wanted and she is more tolerable compared to his brothers. There is also the fact that she trusts him with the kwamis and deep down, he feels super-honoured. (I just love older sister!Mari)

Tim and her being insomniac/coffee buddies. There has been many many interventions to stop this.

I get that Marinette is this selfless person and loves making people happy but she has siblings now and them eating the stuff she made for herself to enjoy, should get on her nerves after a while.

She makes a box with booby-traps in which she puts in her cookies and food.

There are many different layers of traps because this is the Batfam and each of them is non-lethal and more ridiculous.

Okay, I once read a fic about Marinette making a bear-trap style box to hide the Miracle Box so this box is also like that but kept for food. (Traps and Sneaks by quicksilversquared)

Someone (I vote a hungry Dick or Jason, maybe a suspicious Bruce) made a mistake of putting their hand into the box and the first trap activated.

Screams filled the house.

Everyone came down including Marinette.

Bruce asked, “Who did this?”

“It was me.”

“Why?”

“They kept eating the cookies.”

“There are other ways to stop them from doing that you know like a ‘Do Not Touch’ sign not a death trap box.”

“They are non-lethal.”

Bruce locked it away but Tim later stole it to tweak it and store his coffee. ------ (Part 4)

#graveyard siblings #maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #adrien salt #adrien bashing #platonic jasonette #platonic daminette

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frogtanii · 3 years

Text

embarrassed ft. matsukawa issei

wc. 2.7k (???)

warnings. SMUT, not proofread lol, mutual pining (??), friends to lovers (???), cunnilingus lmao, no dom/sub dynamics, well actually dom&sub issei if you squint rlly hard hehe, kinda cute, embarrassed issei <3, also one (1) WAP reference

an. it’s 2:30 am and i have no idea why i wrote this and who for???? i got the idea from a 🦋😳🙈✨ audio and was immediately inspired idk, sorry if it’s bad i lichrally have no idea since i didn’t read it after it was done :p

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

it wasn’t like matsukawa issei to be embarrassed.

he was handsome, intelligent, and funny, not to mention he never left women wanting after a night with him.

issei was the entire package and he knew it.

beyond superficiality though, he was happy with his life. he had a great group of friends, a nice apartment all to himself and a completely normal job.

yes, being a funeral home employee wasn’t the most glamorous career a person could have but he was happy. besides, it never deterred him from getting a warm body to sleep with which was a win in his book.

all in all? his life was great!

so why did he have to go and screw it all up?

issei blames makki and the dumb flyer for the reason his life went to shit. (maybe he’s being a little dramatic, but let him have his oikawa moment.)

he was minding his own business when his best friend (recently turned enemy) burst through his apartment door with a piece of paper in his hand and a fire in his eyes.

“dude, look at this!” issei rolled his eyes, putting down his casket catalogue and turning to meet takahiro’s gaze.

“why hello to you too. remind me why i gave you a key again?”

“because you love me and because i bring shit like this to you. look!” with another long and suspiciously tooru-like sigh, issei took the crumpled paper from makki and immediately stopped in his tracks.

“makki... what the fuck is this?”

written in large pink letters and a flowery, borderline illegible font was the name, coffee and cunnilingus. upon further inspection and careful reading, it revealed itself to be a little cafe opening up about 10 minutes from issei’s apartment complex who were looking to hire “young, attractive men who are proficient at eating pussy.”

issei could feel his eyes narrow and his mouth drop open in shock as he repeated his question. “the fuck is this?”

makki shook his head excitedly, tapping to another portion of the flyer that matsukawa had not yet read. “no, no dude, just look at how much they’re paying per hour.” issei begrudgingly obliged but the minute his eyes touched the (Massive™) number, he felt a little faint.

it was a lot of money. more than the funeral home was paying, that’s for sure. with that kind of money he could move out of this suddenly dingy seeming apartment and into a nice flat in the city were he’d always wanted to live. maybe he could buy himself a nice watch or even a high-end suit to replace the one from his highschool graduation (aka the only suit he owns). with that kind of money, he could erase his student debt 3 years ahead of schedule and get his mom into a nicer place.

it was these thoughts that clouded issei’s head as he found himself standing in front of a cute looking building, matching the address on the flyer. i’ll only be working part time, he thought as he pushed the door open to reveal an equally impressing interior with curtained booths and a wide variety of coffee on the menu. i’m only doing it for extra money, he thought as he shook the owner’s hand after he finished his successful interview. no one can ever know, he thought as he dressed himself in the uniform on his first day.

thus began issei’s super secret side hustle where he ate women out for cash.

sounds worse when you say it outright but it was just working. he was good at it, the women liked him, and he was making BANK. still, there were challenges. some women refused to bathe before coming and he would have to send them to the restroom to freshen up which absolutely ruined his chances for a good tip. some women would become heavily infatuated with him, believing that they were in some sort of forbidden romance. he learned to turn them down quick and easy to avoid conflict in the workplace which furthered his space as a boss favorite. but his hardest challenge by far was meeting you.

you were one of hanamaki’s friends, having met him at one of his brief stints in retail on his search for a job. he had gotten fired but you both stayed in touch after he left, becoming really close, really fast.

issei had met you first when takahiro had invited you to the biweekly seijoh third-years movie night. at first, he had been pissed as an “outsider” had never been invited before and he was worried you’d ruin the vibe, especially since it was the first time in months that oikawa would be able to join them. makki vouched for you through and through and the other boys were okay with it so you were in. the second he met you, all his fears of awkwardness and discomfort faded away.

you were great.

you were hilarious, pretty, and could keep up with makki’s harsh jokes, tooru’s diva attitude, iwa’s tendency to hit (hard), and issei’s original disdain. by the end of the night, he had completely forgotten why he didn’t want you there in the first place.

from then on, you were a staple in their little friend group. you were added to the groupchat where you balanced memes with spouts of deep wisdom and you were ever so reliable, always there if any of them needed it.

yeah, you were great. that’s where the problems started.

issei’s feelings for you quickly went from platonic to romantic, faster than you can say godzilla. he hadn’t even recognized that he was falling for you until it was way too late. normally, he wouldn’t have a problem confessing to you but because of his newly found ...occupation, he was too nervous. how would you take it that he was basically a glorified prostitute? ok, that wasn’t exactly what he did but still! you’d probably find him disgusting and horrible and leave the friend group forever. then he’d have to deal with oikawa’s senseless whining and makki’s subtle digs, blaming him for your departure. yeah, he wasn’t going to put himself through that so he decided to keep his mouth shut.

too bad he didn’t have any control over makki’s.

you and takahiro had been on a little friend-date at mcdonald’s after you’d had a long and frustrating shift. you just wanted to vent, expressing your general hate for your job and desperate need for stress relief.

that’s when makki opened his (big, stupid) mouth and suggested that you visit a little place called coffee and cunnilingus. you nearly choked on your fries at the title before quickly pressing him for details. thankfully, he had the decency not to expose that issei worked there but he had not done a good enough job convincing you not to go there. not that it would’ve mattered. your curiosity was peaked and your libido was high so why not try out the weird cafe where you let a complete stranger stick his tongue inside you?

it was settled. you were going to go and you were going to get eaten out and you were going to like it!

or at least that is what you repeated in your head as you walked to the address on your phone before taking a deep breath and walking inside.

“hello, welcome to coffee and cunnilingus, how might i pleasure you this afterno— yn?” issei’s eyes widened as they met your equally bewildered ones, the both of you staring at each other in shock.

“matsukawa-san, is everything alright?” a large hand rested on issei’s shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts and forcing him to break (horrified) eye contact with you and move it onto his boss who was now looking down on him menacingly.

“y-yes sir, everything is fine!” he squeaked out, hating the way his voice cracked on his first syllable. his boss looked at him suspiciously but thankfully didn’t press.

“well, since nothing is wrong, take this beautiful young woman to a booth where you will assist her!” the hand resting on issei’s shoulder slowly squeezed, making him wince in pain. the pain was only an afterthought though to the larger implication of his boss’ words. he’s going to assist you. assist as in pleasure. pleasure as in eat you out.

holy shit, you were going to pass out.

apparently, issei had the same thought process as you, his face whitening like a sheet. “m-me? but sir i-“

“do your job matsukawa-san!” his boss cut him off with a forced smile. all issei could do was nod and silently lead you off to a closed booth near the back or lose his job. you stayed close behind him but remained quiet, absolutely terrified of breaking the silence and ruining the bubble you had created.

you finally reached the booth in question. issei gently opened the curtain and motioned for you to get it, to which you obliged and he followed just behind.

the moment the curtain closed, you were enveloped in an awkward silence and tense atmosphere, neither of you speaking or looking at one another for fear of one of you running out. after what felt like hours, you opened your mouth to speak, not realizing issei had thought the same thing.

“so-“

“i-“

you finally made eye contact with him and burst into the laughter, the tension quickly broken. it took a full minute or two for the both of you to calm down, the absurdity of the entire situation finally catching up with you.

“you first,” issei said, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes while fixing you with an intense gaze swirled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place but it made butterflies bubble up in your stomach. you quickly turned your gaze to the comfortable seat beneath you, your fingers playing with the red stitching while you thought of what you had wanted to say.

“are you any good?” your hand flew up to cover your mouth as your cheeks filled with heat, the embarrassment of your words catching up to you. you hadn’t meant to say that but when you opened your mouth to apologize, you were stopped in your tracks by the lovely sound of issei’s full-bodied laughter filling the tiny booth.

you had heard it just moments earlier but without the sound of your own giggles drowning it out, you couldn’t help but think that he sounded beautiful. you basked in the sound as it slowly trailed off back into silence. now it was you doing the staring making issei look off with a red face and a heart threatening to pound out of his chest.

“y-yeah i’m pretty good. you want to try? me, i mean?” his words nearly leave you gasping, your brain working overtime to try and comprehend what he was saying to you.

“only if y-you want to? what do you want issei?” you whispered, suddenly unable to find your voice. you wanted this to be okay for him too; you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable even though you wanted him more than you could verbally express. despite the embarrassment and fear of rejection lingering under your skin, you stared at him, awaiting his answer. a tiny minuscule nod came from him and you internally shook your head. you needed to hear him.

“i need you to say it, issei.” your words, while quiet, were firm and issei felt himself hardening in his uniform slacks. he swallowed in his increasingly drying mouth before opening his mouth to respond.

“i want to eat your pussy. can i?”

shit.

your own voice was stolen by his words and all you could give him was a nod before he was on you.

issei didn’t waste any time falling to his knees, pulling your panties down, and hiking your skirt up to your stomach, revealing your glistening folds to his hungering eyes.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” is all the warning you get before he’s licking a long stripe up you from entrance to clit before he’s sucking the hard, sensitive nub into his mouth. your eyes immediately rolled back into your head, your hips instinctively bucking up into his mouth while a gasped moan of issei left your lips.

if he could bottle your moans and use them whenever he pleased, he would, the sound sending another pulse of arousal to his already hard cock. he was tempted to reach down and pull himself out of his trousers but he denied himself. this was about you; you and your wet ass pussy.

issei continued his ministrations on your clit, circling it with his tongue before pulling it into his mouth while his hand was ready to get busy. it crept up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine until it reached your sopping entrance, two of his fingers teasing the slit before delving in to the third knuckle.

the moan you let out is borderline animalistic as your body sends another wave of slick pulsing out over his hand. he groaned into your cunt at your tightness, his mind only imagining him deep within you while you squeeze him for all he’s got.

the amount of slick you produced made it easy for him to add a third finger, thrusting them in and out while also crooking them upwards in search for your special spot that would have you seeing stars. it took him a little prodding but he knew he found it when your back arched, your hand came down into his hair, and you whimpered out a string of curses.

“that’s it baby, cmon, you’re doing so well, wanna see you come apart for me,” he all but growled against your clit before delving back in with a higher intensity, his desperation for you to come winning out his desire to tease you and drag this out as long as possible.

with his incessant pressure on your g-spot and his lips suctioned around your clit, it wasn’t long before he got what he wanted.

“isseiisseiisseiissei, i’m coming, i’m coming-oh fuck!” you screamed as you clenched and gushed all over his fingers, your entire body caving in with the intensity of your orgasm. his fingers were practically forced from your spasming cunt but they quickly found a place rubbing your nub side to side as fast as possible. the overwhelming urge to pee came over you and you shook your head, trying to push his hand away.

“no, no, give it to me, i know you can,” issei groaned, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy. the pleasure he was giving came to a head at his words and you felt a clear liquid escape from your tired, overstimulated cunt, your mouth opening in a silent moan before collapsing back on the seat.

the sight proved to be too much for issei as he felt his body tense, his own orgasm washing over him as he emptied himself into his boxers. he fell back onto the ground, in shock of himself coming entirely untouched. he’d never done it before but of course it was you that would bring it out of him. a smile spread across his face at the thought, his head tilting back as he laughed, catching the attention of your worn body.

“what’re y’laughing at?” you slurred, cringing a little at how fucked out you sounded but issei didn’t seem to mind, his face glowing while covered in your slick and cum.

“nothing, nothing, but uh, i have a question.” you felt your heart leap to your chest, your mind already racing with the possibilities. he’s going to say this was a mistake, that we’re just better off as friends. oh god, what if he says i stunk? or the worst pussy he’s ever had? or what if—

“want to go and get a coffee?” he asked, the smile still plastered on his face but with an uncharacteristic hint of shyness. the butterflies were back in your stomach as you shyly nodded before allowing him to help clean you up and standing, not missing how he slipped your lacy underwear deep into one of his pockets.

issei’s hand found its way into yours as he said goodbye to his coworkers and boss before leading you out of the cafe, watching you tell an animated retelling of the bullshit that occurred at your job with a warm grin on his face and pink cheeks.

it might not be like matsukawa issei to be embarrassed but if it resulted in getting you by his side? he would do it again and again.

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