#but also reminds me of the ‘he’s having a bath’ incident

[thewalrusispaul]

Brian describing Paul in ‘Cellarful if Noise’ is so funny to me.

And this comes after the story of Paul refusing to go do a show, because he was upset that Brian told him to get the bus to the city, after Paul was not ready when Brian (plus John and George in the back) went to pick him up. 😂

[essenteez]

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 || 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐 𝑽𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆

"Such fragile little thing, you are. Yet you managed to enslave me, the death itself."

“I won’t be gentle. I can't.” He warns, breaking away from the dazing kiss. "I waited a whole year. Twelve, long months. Over three hundred, fucking days controlling myself and keeping my hands to myself. No more."

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: A year passed after you were ostracized by everyone for being a fallen woman. You get the news of a tragic murder of your former fiancé, because of whom you were left with no family and friends. You feel no compassion, but pure joy. Now, you can let go of the past and focus on Jongho, a mysterious lord who saved you from a certain demise and took care of you. You're now ready to embrace your new life fully and the dark secret of your savior.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: vampire jongho x f!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, horror

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, unprotected sex, thigh riding, inexperienced reader, fingering (f!recieving), rough sex, oral (f!recieving), creampie, overstimulation, blood mention, mention of revange murder, a little horror.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬: 6.6k

London, September 3rd, 1832, Monday.

11.25 PM.

Today is the first death anniversary of the old you. The old you who was disowned by your family, pushed away by your entourage, betrayed by the man you trusted the most. The person that you once wanted to spend your life with - your fiancé, who was found dead yesterday.

Do you feel grief? Of course not. Are you sad? He wishes you were. Although you have to admit that if ever, any wish of death for him had crossed your mind, it was never that brutal.

The headlines of today’s morning newspaper mention a dismembered body, completely drained of all blood. Shreds of your former fiancé were discovered somewhere in one of Oxford's slums. The incident probably makes people sick to their stomach, but your guts are fine. You only felt disgust while reading those lies about what a wonderful son and noble man he was, and what a loss to his parents and the country. It does hurt to see that no one knows what monster he truly was. Well, it is not your problem anymore. Actually, you could thank him for the chance he gave you to have a better life.

Much better life with your new protector. Your new world. Lord Choi Jongho.

However, the news has ruined your day. You have been feeling restless all day, missing him with all your being. You have barely touched any food or left your room. You also told your maids to not disturb you, letting them in only to prepare you a hot bath. He has not left your thoughts even for a second today, leaving you hoping he comes back as soon as possible.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you put on your white night dress. There is a little aching in your muscles from the lack of entertainment since morning. It makes you groan when you decide to massage your neck. The hot bath helped you feel a little better, so you are grateful to your lovely maids.

Phlegmatically, you start brushing your long locks when the rain outside suddenly grows stronger, now pelting at your window. At first you ignore it but the sound of a quiet thunder makes you turn your face towards the window. Lighting flashes on your face as you strongly pull the heavy blinds to one side, another roar of the storm follows after a few seconds.

"Perfect." You mumble, blinking quickly after the sudden flash of light manages to blind you. The weather only worsens your mood. You hate storms with a burning passion. It also reminds you of him as he always accompanies you when the brutal weather does not let you feel relaxed. But he’s not here right now.

You flinch at a sudden knocking on your door. In the manor you grew up in, you could hear someone approaching your room from meters away, because of the floor creaking. The floor here also isn't quiet, but somehow you never hear the maids, or Jongho coming.

You clear your throat before calling. "Come in!"

You let go of the blinds, reaching for the brush to resume combing your hair, as a short, skinny girl slides inside your bedroom, curtseying before you.

"My lady."

"What is it, Annabelle?” You ask dispassionately but still trying to make your tone sound kind. "I told you and Sybil to leave me alone, didn't I?"

"Yes, my lady, you certainly did. But you also ordered earlier that we inform you about the lord's whereabouts. I come to announce my lord's arrival back to the mansion. He is asking if you would like to join him for a glass of wine before going to bed.” She continues, her pretty face smiling from ear to ear, knowing well she brings good news to you. “The heavy storm is getting closer, so my lord also thought you would feel better if you had company until it calms down."

You stand up rapidly, almost dropping the brush on the ground as you turn to the maid. You can't hide your excitement. He finally came back. Thank God. He left a week ago and everyday was like torture for you. After hearing today's news, you have craved his presence more than ever.

"Alas-" You shout excitedly, quickly realizing how loud it sounded. "I mean... Yes, I would like to join Lord Choi for a glass of wine."

“My lord foresaw that answer.” Annabelle smiles at you, being vividly happy to see your mood change. "He will be waiting for you in ten minutes in the main saloon.”

When she sees your nod at her announcement, she curtseys again before leaving you. "My lady"

The moment the maid closes the door behind her, you run to your vanity. Your hair is already brushed but you notice how gray your skin looks. Still, not as gray as Annabelle or Sybil's, but the whole day of boredom and overthinking indeed seemed to exhaust you. Despite the lack of life on your face, your eyes start to shine with a familiar glow. A glow only he can awake in you. You bite your lips and pinch your cheeks to bring some blood to your face.

At the finish, you slide on a red, silk robe on. His favorite color as he once mentioned.

You already got used to the prevailing rules in this house; no lady and lord calling between you two, no severe etiquette. It was like stepping into a different world. It didn’t take you long to adapt since you hate hierarchy like that. You enjoy life now. If your mother only knew you were walking around in a thin night dress under a robe in the house of a man that you are not related to, she would surely faint. You couldn't care less though.

You no longer have a mother or family. All you have is him.

After ten minutes, you walk down the wide, winding stairs. It is pretty dark as the candles are unable to illuminate such a large, dark space. Fortunately, after a year of living here you already know every inch by heart.

The storm is getting closer with every second now. A glare of a lightning, soon followed by thunder, illuminates the whole mansion making you jump in fear.

While reaching the ground floor you notice a warm, weak light at the end of the main hall which makes you smile subconsciously. The light is leading you to the main saloon where he is supposedly waiting for you.

Your eyes go to him the same moment you enter the room. He is standing with his back facing you, looking at the unraveling storm outside the tall window. His palms are clasped behind his back as he faces the thunders, not bothered by the noise. Jongho is an embodiment of the peace you have craved for all week.

He is here. You do not want to think about what would've happened to you if he didn't find you back then, a year ago.

After your disappointed parents threw you out of your family house, you were wandering the misty streets of Oxford, completely soaked from pouring rain. Your fiancé's grand plan to ruin your family's reputation was a success. Deceived by his promises of mad love, you gave yourself to him before the wedding. And he used it to accuse you of betrayal with some non-existent man. With no way to prove your innocence, you were ostracized and your family immediately cut you off to save the last shreds of dignity. All that to take revenge on your father for some old grudge his family had against yours.

You were miserable, you had given up with no place to go. Since news about the lewd Lady (y/l/n) spread quickly, people passing you by looked at you with disgust on their face.

But suddenly someone stopped in front of you, putting their black umbrella above your head. A mysterious lord. His deep, black eyes and gentle smile helped you survive. Since you had nothing to lose and you needed to vent your pain, you didn't care if it was a stranger listening.

There was something about him that made you tell him your story. You were certain that he would act just like everyone else, but he didn’t. He took care of you, he listened. You could see the anger in his eyes when you uncovered the ugly truth about how you were treated.

Then, Jongho took you to London, gave you a new last name, a new life, far away from those rumors and hateful looks. You could finish your education and do more things than any other woman in England could. Just when you thought you would never trust anyone, there he was.

"Are you going to stare at me like that all night?" His gentle, amused voice interrupted you, drowning in your memories. You straighten your back at his words and gulp softly. A heat burns your cheeks at your own carelessness.

"Forgive me. I did not want to disturb you watching the storm. I know you love this type of..." You gasp quietly as he slowly turns and looks at you with that mysterious gaze that you know so well. After a year you still can't read him which was drawing you to him even more. “...weather.”

His raven black, tidy hair contrasts perfectly with his white colored blouse. A ruby brioche at his neck that shines with red glow.

Sudden lighting illuminates him entirely from behind, showing you the outlines of his perfect body underneath the shirt. His broad shoulders make you breathe faster. It is safe to say Jongho is the most beautiful man your eyes have ever seen.

Graceful in every movement. Eloquent with every word he says. So intimidating, which always makes you blush and loudly swallow. But he is also kind, with a one of a kind sense of humor. Each of your new London friends thinks he is none other than your distant cousin. And they all find him pretty scary but witheringly attractive.

"I have heard that you have not eaten anything today and that you did not leave your room until now.” A sudden change of his tone disturbs your inappropriate thoughts.

You drop your gaze to your feet.

"I presume birds brought you the news." You threw a look at Annabelle and Sybil, who are now preparing two glasses and a bottle of wine at the table. They are avoiding your eyes, feeling uncomfortable with your sharp gaze on them. You only reassure yourself in the conviction that the telegram you saw Sybil writing this morning was indeed for him.

"They really worry about you, (y/n). Especially Annabelle. I tried my best to come home as soon as I could after seeing the news." He lowers his head a little, vividly curious about your reaction.

You feel butterflies form in your stomach, hearing he rushed as fast as he could to you. You look at him with a gentle smile, thanking him.

Lighting flashes again, bringing loud thunder with it as he asks.

"Do you, perhaps, feel saddened?"

Your smile disappears. You look each other in the eyes for a longer second until you break eye contact so he doesn't see what your mind is full of right now. You start moving towards the black wooden table after the girls left you both alone. You pour wine into both glasses.

"No." You smile, licking your lips before taking a big sip of a red liquid.

Jongho observes your every move, visibly surprised with your tone.

"Do you think I should?”

"I do not think he deserves any compassion from you.” He moves closer, not taking his eyes off of you.

"Does it make me an evil person?” You ask, taking another sip of the alcohol. Your tolerance isn’t strong, so you already feel the wine messing with your head. Or maybe it is the effect of his simple existence.

"If all evil people were as evil as you, the world would be a paradise.” He halts right behind you, hoping you won't run away as you always have.

"Paradise…” You echo, surprised and amused at the same time. “I don’t think so. I'm stained after all. Sex before marriage is a big sin. My future lies in a convent anyway.”

You put the wineglass to your lips emptying the glass.

"Future and convent in one sentence.” He chuckles, standing dangerously close to you. “That’s new.”

"Well..." You start slowly, trying so hard to control your breathing. "I've been actually thinking about it. One day I will have to leave this place and since I'm a fallen woman, there is no chance for me to become what I was meant to become - a good wife and one day, a mother. England has no use of me. Convent is my only option, don't you think? You don’t want me to ruin your reputation."

"Can't you tell I don't really care about my reputation, darling?" His lips are right beside your ear, sending shivers down your heated body. "But if people finding out your true identity bothers you so much, we will move to another place. We can do it even tonight. France, Italy, Spain, China. We can leave here and now and be whoever we want to be. In France, I can be your cousin. In Italy, I can be my fiancé and in China... your husband?"

Each word recited with his hot breath teases the skin of your neck, his hard member boldly pressed against your back. When Jongho hears your soft gasp, he grabs your hips, spinning you around to face him.

You stare into his deep eyes, full with a growing fire. You can't help but breathe faster, feeling his body glued to yours. He, noticing that, smirks at you.

"You're not a fallen woman, (y/n). You're a free woman. Can I finally prove that to you?"

You don’t even have a chance to say anything before his long fingers entangle around the back of your neck, bringing you closer so your lips can finally meet. You are surprised at the suddenness and force, but you quickly adjust, equally as hungry. That kiss is long overdue.

The storm gains strength above the mansion, but all you can hear is your pounding heart and both your heated breaths.

You can't help but moan into the kiss you have dreamt of for so long. He pushes you back onto the table behind you, kissing you so passionately that you forget whose air you are breathing His knee suddenly thrusts between your thighs, stopping them from rubbing against each other.

Whimpering at the action, you grab his waist to not lose balance. Moans begin leaving your previously abused mouth, as he’s now mercilessly attacking your neck. The cotton fabric of his pants was rubbing against your core. With every move, Jongho deepens the intensity of his leg between your trembling thighs. You mewl in delight as he pulls you closer to his chest.

"Move your hips for me, darling. The same way you move them so seductively with the pillow between your legs at night when you're all alone." He groans into your ear, sucking on your earlobe.

You slightly open your eyes at his words. How does he know? You always try your best to be quiet and leave no traces of your moments of weakness. Did he hear you, see you?

The thought Jongho might've listened to your quiet whimpers or that he peeked inside while your neediness made you lower your guard adds another wave of arousal to your already weeping pussy.

"Ride my thigh. I want your essence all over my thigh.” He purrs.

You follow the command without hesitation, desperate for more friction. You feel the tension building up in your body as you are grinding at his thigh muscles. He bites his lower lip, watching how you repeat the dance of your hips from all the previous nights when you were pleasuring yourself and he fought hell to not storm in your bedchamber and ravage you sweet holes.

“Yes, just like that.” His groans have you trembling. With an impatient move he pulls your night dress up. “I fantasized about it way too many times. Ride it, darling.”

Jongho pins you even harder to the table, moving fast in an opposite direction which causes your mouth to let out silent moans and loud gasps. His hand never leaves your neck, only tightening the grasp to keep you where he wants to have you. The other impatient arm wraps around your waist to secure you from falling back onto the table.

"Cum as hard as you need, as loud as you want. No one will judge you here.” His burning eyes are now studying your face contorted with immense pleasure and desperation for release. Your eyes closed as you're indulging in the sensation.

"Look at me." He commands from behind his teeth. "I want you to look at me when you fall apart."

You half-open your eyes, but you can barely see him through your hazy sight. You are so close to the edge that the motion of your hips starts to become sloppy and uneven.

Lightning keeps flashing inside the room, and the walls shudder from the thunder that comes with the light.

And then you see it. A moment when two worlds meet. You swear you saw black voids for eyes staring right at you for a short second. You smile, happy that all your suspicions were true.

It finally showed up. Jongho's truth.

Even though the vision is gone, and you are looking Jongho's chocolate pupils again, you know it all now.

You have a creature of the night in front of you, with his thigh rubbing between your legs, making you see the stars. The view of his face watching you intensively with those lustful eyes and his clenching jaw is enough to bring you to your high fast, right on the edge.

"Jongho.. I…" You whine loudly as he pulls you as close to his body as possible, sliding his thigh back and forth.

“Yes, darling. Say my name.” He breathes out, before sucking on your neck’s pulsepoint.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head, as the bliss explodes within you. The waves of your overpowering heat hit one after another. You feel the strength leaving your body as the spasms slowly begin to fade. You give up completely, falling into his strong embrace.

Jongho slows down, peacefully rub the last ounces of high out of you while pressing you against his strong chest.

"You sing so sweetly from pleasure.” He whispers into your neck. "I want to hear it over and over again."

Pulling his thigh from underneath you, Jongho hisses in satisfaction at all the juices covering his pants. In gratitude, he reaches for your lips. He pampers your mouth with his eager kiss, his own tongue flicking over the soft flesh, gently caressing the sweet taste of you.

You're too enchanted by his perfect kiss to register that he begins to gently strip you of your robe. Your nightgown gets quickly unbuttoned by his skillful fingers and ends up on the floor in no time. Reluctantly, he breaks the kiss to sit you up onto the table. The coldness of the surface causes you to recover a bit from your high.

"Look at your painting, (y/n)." He looks down at his left thigh. You completely soaked it. Your face heats up. Your juices glistening in the pale candle light, and a series of lightning strikes.

He steals another kiss, finding your embarrassment cute.

"I want the same on my tongue."

Your eyes grow bigger. What does he mean? You have to admit you still have zero experience but tongue? Down there?

"What are you doing?” You panic, still panting as he spreads your quivering legs wider, kneeling between them.

"He never did it for you?" He asks, looking up at you in surprise.

"Umm, no." You can't focus due to his hot breath blowing at your puffy folds. His laugh caused by your answer only adds new waves of sensation. You lick your lips feeling their dryness caused by your excitement. Seeing his handsome face framed by your thighs, it stirs something inside you.

"Please." You whimper quietly.

"Since you're asking so nicely. I could never say no to you.” He teases, raising his brow at your shamelessness. He's visibly satisfied with your sudden change.

You don't mean to beg, you really don't. But every bit of your control goes out the window. Your body is speaking up for you, while your common sense and shame are locked up somewhere deep down.

His wet, lazy kisses make invisible marks on your inner thigh, preparing for the act. The sight, the feeling of him licking and sucking on your skin, cleaning you up from the previous release make you want to go insane. The sounds he makes while doing it, like he's tasting heaven, doesn’t help.

Jonghi lifts your legs, laying them over his shoulders for better access, causing you to fall back a little and support yourself with your hands behind.

He graces your clit with small kisses, receiving little whimpers from you. He smiles against your core before attacking your folds aggressively.

"Oh-"

There was no time for any proper reaction. Every muscle in your body tense up from the circling motions of his tongue. He runs it through your lower lips, pulling and sucking on them with a popping sound. You feel the heat quickly spreading through your whole body from the spot where he had been pleasing you.

“Fuuuck.” He mumbles with his mouth full of you. With his tongue he delves in your entrance, his brows frowning as he can't contain his arousal from the way you taste so good.

“Jongho…” You’re bewitched by the view of his restless mouth, feeding on your needy cunt. This feeling is new with the level of intimacy you have never reached before. You feel lewd, seen, absolutely scandalous. And you love it. All of it. Your hip begins to move to his rhythm, craving for more.

“Pass me the glass." He says suddenly, parting from your throbbing pussy, causing you to groan in disappointment. "Behind you, darling.”

You looked over your shoulder to see your empty glass and the glass with the wine he hasn't drunk yet.

Seeing your confusion, he chuckles, “The full one.”

You carefully hand him the liquor, sure that he wants to quench his thirst. But that is not his plan. He is going to quench his thirst but not with wine.

Out of nowhere he raises the glass in your direction and starts carefully pouring the wine down your chest.

You gasp, stunned, trying not to move and disturb him. You are just looking down at him, completely focused on the red streams that were slowly flowing between your breast, down your stomach and to your womanhood.

His tongue revisiting your pussy, nimbly licking off the wine.

"Oh my…" You moan loudly, as he starts drinking the liquor off your folds.

Satisfied with how the wine easily flows down its path, Jongho begins to pour more, creating a bigger and faster river that he messily slurps along with your juices until the glass is empty.

You can't keep yourself up any longer. Your hands give up on you causing you to fall back onto the table. The pleasure is overwhelming, making your back arch. Although your sight is hazy, you want to see him again, down there, devouring you like it was his last meal. The room is beginning to dim as the candles are on their last burn. Lighting was the only source of light now.

"J-Jongho!" You call to him among your loud moans.

Then you see it again, two black voids fixated on your face. The sight of Jongho's true side that he apparently can't control whilst being filled with lust, gives you greater satisfaction. He sharply throws the glass aside, shattering it on the wall. Then, he wraps his arms behind your thighs, pinning you down to the table. His tongue quickens, flicking across your clit making you see white.

"Jong- Oh!” You slip as a strong orgasm crashes over you, twisting your body with unimaginable pleasure. Your hands grab both sides of the table, feeling your warmth flooding on Jongho's tongue and lips. He sucks on your clit, bringing every last bit of your orgasm out of you and taking his time to clean your pussy of your essence and the rest of the wine.

"Mmmm. You taste too sweet. Too delicious for the covent." He coos, his voice heavy with arousal. He starts tracing his way back up your body with his tongue, slowly following the trails of sticky wine, ending it with hungry kisses all over your neck and jaw.

"So?" He asks as his face aligned with yours. You dare to look into his eyes as he hovers over you.

"So?" You repeat, out of breath.

"Are you feeling free yet?" He smirks with a sinful spark in his eyes.

You know exactly what he's asking about.

You return the smile, "Not yet."

With these words he straightens up and rips open his wine stained blouse, throwing its shreds on the floor. The ruby brooch clatters somewhere on the wooden panels.

You cannot take your eyes off his perfect body. You fantasized about it so many times but it's still more than you could ever imagine.

"Like what you see?" He asks, amused by your awe. He begins to unbelt, then takes off his black pants that were soaked with your cum. “Cause I like my view very much."

You wish to sit up but Jongho stops you, climbing on the table hovering over your body. His enormous frame towering over you makes you feel so small and vulnerable.

He leans down and kisses you incredibly slowly, you melt over the taste of his, yours and the wine that linger on his lips. You feel it with the deepest, darkest corners of your soul, returning the affection with quiet moans. You are his, from the first sight. Maybe it is an illness of falling in love with your savior or maybe it is real. You don't care. You stopped caring about details a long time ago.

"What happened, (y/n)?” He breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. “You resisted me for so long and today you serve yourself on a golden platter."

You smile and flick your tongue on his lips.

“You killed him for me” You moan out, feeling his warm cock, throbbing against your abdomen. “Didn’t you?”

He pulls himself up, taken aback at your words. His dark eyes study your face, searching for any sign of fear or doubts. But he finds none of it.

“(Y/n), I…?”

“I know everything, Jongho. I’ve known for some time now.” You explain, almost moaning out every word. You’re squirming with neediness underneath him.

You heard Sybil tell the postman to take the telegram to Jongho. To Oxford. You connected everything in an instant. You couldn't help but imagine him covered in your fiancé's blood which made you go insane with lust.

“I’m all yours to take.” You declare.

With every word leaving your mouth his eyes are getting darker. It is his dream come true. You, accepting what he is and what he is able to do for you.

He claims your quivering lips once more. Wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders you let his tongue penetrate your mouth, wrestling with yours while his length found its way to your pussy, rubbing on your dripping folds.

“I won’t be gentle. I can't.” He warns, breaking away from the dazing kiss. "I waited a whole year. Twelve, long months. Over three hundred, fucking days of controlling myself and keeping my hands to myself. No more."

"Take as much as you need. As rough as you want." You say, giving him the allowance, using your version of his own words. You want him to fuck you into that wooden table. "Just take me, Jongho."

Leaning down to your neck, he draws a long breath, inhaling your scent that turned his life upside down the moment he sensed it for the first time. He remembers vividly how you passed him by on one of the streets in Oxford. Despite the crowd, your scent was like vines, climbing up his legs and making them follow after you. As any vampire would, he craved to feed on you. The initial plan was to take you away, seduce you so he could sink his fangs anytime he felt thirsty. But then he heard your story. And to his own surprise, he didn't want to take advantage of it. He wanted to protect you, punish people who had hurt you and keep you under his wings. He dared to dream of having you near until the end of time.

“So delicate.” He hums against your neck and ear. “So fragile, so… human. Yet, your sweet blood has never tempted me to taste it. I want to make it burn your veins with lust, need and love. I want to smell it racing as I kiss you, touch you. I want to hear it pulsating in your thighs while I eat your precious pussy out for hours. I want to listen to it beat in your heart that I want to protect. I will never let a drop of it to shed. I swear it to you.”

You suck in a soft breath at his declaration. You are left speechless as he kisses your pulsepoint as a seal to his words.

Both don't speak as your faces align. Jongho holds your gaze as he starts kissing his way down the valley between your breasts. He places a sweet kiss on the left side of your chest to feel your heartbeat under his lips.

You tangle your fingers into his silky hair and gently tug on it. A breathy moan is ripped from your chords as he begins sucking on your nipple, while the other gets captured between his thumb and index finger. He keeps your gaze as he flicks his tongue on your bud.

Grabbing fistfulls of your bosoms, he scoops both and engulfs them with his mouth, sucking and pulling them. His hard cock keeps grinding against your leaking slit.

“Jongho… please.” You whine, feeling like overheating. “Ease this fire.”

At your plea, he lets go of your breasts with a pop sound. The vampire rises up, finally blessing you with all his grace. His impressive size makes you gasp, having your wetness increase instantly. He's so erect you see every little vein decorating his manhood. The tip glistens with precum that you get a sudden urge to taste, your tongue ghosts your dry lips.

Jongho spreads your trembling legs wider, placing them on his hips. The feeling of his hot skin and hardened muscles on your inner thighs causes your core throb with anticipation.

"You want to be fucked by a monster so bad, don’t you?" He taunts with a sinister smirk, guiding his length up and down your folds, spreading your wetness all over his tip. Your whimpers drive him to groan. He takes his time to prepare your pussy for sweet abuse.

"Jongho, please.” You can't take it anymore, but he seems to enjoy the torture. "Fallen or free, just take me."

These words work on him like magic. You hear his dangerous giggle before he grabs the flesh of your hips with his big, hungry hands and slams himself inside you.

You squeal at the sudden stretch of your tight walls and put your hands on his wrists. You haven't had a man inside you for a whole year. Not to mention, you never had someone that big.

Although he warned you about not being gentle with you, you still are not prepared for the power he starts to penetrate you with. He pounds into you hard without any mercy on your poor body and soul. He has all the control over your hips, pulling them and impaling you on his pulsating cock.

"Oo-h l-ord!” You cry out with pleasure.

"So tight, yes. " He growls out, instantly satisfied. “Ah, you're going to make me come quickly, love of mine.”

He slows down after a few more hard thrusts, lowering himself to hover over you again.

You are loudly gasping for air. It's difficult to breathe due to his previous enormous force. His cock, now torturing your insides with a painfully slow pace.

"That's exactly how I imagined you looking underneath me, darling. So tiny and defenseless. Entirely mine." He whispers, licking a long wet strip between your breast, bringing it up to your jaw.

You arch your back, tangling your fingers in his raven hair again.

He laughs quietly at the sudden swirling movement of your hips on his length.

"Mmmm, you're squeezing me so good."

After a few seconds of enjoying the moment, Jongho grabs your legs, placing them onto his shoulders. His cock sinks even deeper into you, making a new series of moans to leave your mouth.

His thrusts become even stronger, taking you beyond your imagination. Your head is spinning, the haze again falls upon your eyes as you hold tight the table's edges above your head. He fills you completely, his throbbing pride rubbing all the right places.

You can't make any kind of sound. The fire between your thighs starts spreading all over your body.

"I'm.. Jongh… please, please!" You scream repeatedly as waves of indescribable ecstasy start to flood you, making your body spasm again. Loud moans mixed with roars of thunder fills the mansion.

"Fuuck, yes, sweetheart." He joins you in the lewd ritual, feeling your walls closing around his length, squeezing him. Jongho straightens his back, throwing his head back, pushing into you slowly, riding both your highs.

You feel his cock twitch as he unloads his warmth inside you. And it’s followed by a sudden, loud, bloodcurdling laugh that makes you look up at him.

This time you see more than just two black voids instead of the chocolate eyes of your lover. Long fangs glisten in the dark. His whole face, covered in black veins as he's savoring in ecstasy.

"J-Jongho…" You call out breathlessly, feeling like your high grew back intensively, just at the view of his true form that you have fantasized about so many times.

Breathing heavily, he lets his gaze fall down at you. The sinister smile is still painted on his lips. He gives you a few last slow thrusts just so he can watch your face and listen to your adorable whimpers again. You then felt his length slowly sliding out of you followed by his thick seed dripping from your hole. He stared at his masterpiece for a short instant and laid himself on your side.

"You're so beautiful." You caress his cheek, not able to take your eyes off his face. A face that other people would call a monster. You stare at him in awe as his true form starts to fade, being replaced with his human side.

“Beautiful? You find this beautiful.?” He grins with his sharp teeth. You love when the real mischief takes over his lord persona. “And I am here, wondering why you're not having a heart attack. I tried to control my form to not come out but you feel oh so good.”

His finger runs down your body, that's covered and filled with liquids. You still want more, and Jongho can sense it.

“You are beautiful, no matter the form.” You insist, yet your voice sounds weak and shaky as his hand slides between your legs.

He captures your lips, teasing your tongue with his. He swallows your moans, as his hand massages your needy clit.

“You were truly made for me.” He whispers in your lips. “So unsatisfied, desperate for more… Do you want my fingers inside you, darling?”

“Yes…” You feel drunk. He makes you feel more intoxicated than any alcohol ever has.

“You want me to use my cum inside your precious little pussy as a lube and fuck you with my fingers, hm?”

You nod eagerly with no shame whatsoever.

“Say it, sweetness. Use your pretty voice and tell me what you want.”

“I want you… to fuck me… with your fingers, please.” You begged with a pathetic, high-pitched voice.

The confidence his digits slide into you steals the breath from your lungs. The squelching sounds immediately filled the room, disturbing the silence among your moans and the thunder. His fingers are restless as, thanks to his rich filling they go in and out of you like a knife in the most ripe fruit.

You arch your spine as Jongho curls them and his fingertips rub that sweet point that doubles the volume of your cries.

“Ah, yes, yes, right there!”

He uses the opportunity of your exposed neck, and he gently bites the soft skin, not enough to pierce through it, but enough to leave a trace.

“Fuck, (y/n).” He whispers, with a tone of praise. You reacting to everything he does to you, makes his chest swell with pride.

It encourages him.

As a vampire, his strength and never-ending stamina pushes you over the edge the next second after his hand starts racing up and down at a determined, overwhelming speed, playing your whole body like an instrument.

You come once, screaming against the thunder. Then again, but this time you make no sound. You can't, as the pleasure of a thousand suns cages the breath in your lungs.

With his lips glued to your throat, he groans at the way your body trembles as he forces his cum out of you.

“No, no… Jongo, wait… stop…”

He giggles as you push his hand away after his finger starts flicking your core again.

“I would’ve killed him much sooner if I knew it'd cause you to finally scream in pleasure underneath me.” He whispers, placing calming kisses on your marked neck as your hands are roaming all over his back.

You can only smile at his words, tired after the long awaited fulfillment. Seeing your state, Jongho carefully picks you up from the table. You feel him cover you with your robe he had ripped off you.

You don’t remember the trip to his chambers where he carried you in his arms. You don't know where you are until you feel warm water embracing your exhausted body. You open your eyes to see him gently wiping and massaging your skin.

"How delicate, Lord Choi." You give him a tired but content smile. "I clearly remember you saying you wouldn’t be gentle with me."

Jongho grins before saying, "Don't worry. This is only the beginning."

Every nerve in your body wakes up as he leans to your neck and places a gentle kiss.

“I need some time to shape you for me. I don't want to hurt you. Then, I swear there won't be any surface left in this house where I won't take you on, sweetness.”

Then his focus is back on cleaning your body, however the sinister spark never leaves his eyes. You know this night isn't over, wondering what the state the dawn will find you in.

Your eyes wander to the window in front of you. You see the lighting dancing in the distance but you don't hear any thunder accompanying it anymore.

The storm is over. You indulge in the peaceful darkness of the night.

I repost this one shot cause I wasn't satisfied with it. I couldn't even look at it anymore and I like the idea 🥲 Hope you like it! I added some new plot, too!

[s4ndb0xfung1]

The Shape/Michael A. Myers SFW & NSFW Headcanons MINORS DNI!!!!

Been working on some headcanons for Michael Myers for a while, he is such a lovely slasher I love him so much!. wish he would fill me up irl. also this is a completely Gender less headcanon so nobody will feel left out.

SFW Headcanons

Michael has ASPD because of that he struggles with understanding when you feel hurt by some of his actions, especially when it comes to dragging dirt into the newly cleaned house. or when he is covered in blood trying to lay beside you in your shared beds. But also when he is too rough with you, as well with breaking your stuff.

one time he hurt you really badly by hitting you in the face, when trying to move his mask, he didn't get why you were so upset at him, you cried a lot in your now shared bedroom. you had a dark black eye for over a week after the incident, and michael left you be for the first 3 days. After that he tried apologizing in his own way by spending time with you. 

you had to teach him “treat people like you want to be treated” something children learn young, but you had to remind yourself that Michael did not have a normal childhood nor normal interactions with other kids when he was young, and because of that took it easy with him the first month.

He learned pretty quickly how to behave around you.

Michael is like a cat and would leave dead creatures in your living room, this can be from dead animals like birds, wild turkeys and even one time a deer. The worst he had done was when he brought you a dead cow, you had to explain to him that he could not just steal farmers, animals.let alone a cow.

you had to force him to wash that gross mask, before you swore you could see green stink lines coming out of that gross thing.

he likes to bathe with you whether it be bathing in a bath or taking a shower together, he really likes to be close to you. not just that he likes it when you fuss over him, he likes it when you scrub his hair with the shampoo. or when you wash his body from soap, even when the bath is done and you put on lotion he will just watch you.

you tried getting him to try out the body lotion you have, but he doesn't really get WHY he should put it on and the sensation of being sticky after a bath really makes his skin crawl. He just puts it on his arms and T-Poses until it dries or he can handle the sensation.

originally he would walk around in his dirty overall all the time until you told him you would blend his mask if he did not just take it off to wash it as well as having to wear other clothes for once.

when you went out shopping clothes with him, it was kind of weird forcing him to try out clothes to make sure the shirts and pants where his size,

It took you 3 tries to get the right size for both shirt and pants, this absolute UNIT of a man could not even fit in a large or XL due to his height and density.

You wanted him to try on so.e sweatpants only to be flashed with his package. You quickly gave him an XXL, so he could actually sit in the parts without breaking them at the seams, as well to not flash any poor unsuspecting people.

After the shopping you decided to get some food from. The food court in the mall you went to. And discovered that Michael really liked spicy food even when you knew he hadn't built up the tolerance for it. You came to the conclusion he most likely likes the feeling of pain that comes with eating really spicy food.

You also realized that Michael really REALLY likes sugary stuff, you already knew he had a little sweet tooth due to your chocolate disappearing sometimes, but you never knew how much he actually loved sweets. It was to the point where you felt disgusted he could eat those sugar bombs.

He wears the mask all the time. The only time he takes it off is when he is forced to clean the mask or when you want to take him out shopping.

Due to the fact you are far away from Haddonfield you don't have to fear that much that someone might recognize michael. tough people are kind of freaked out by him. mostly because he wears a black medical mask., but also due to him standing almost completely still behind you while waiting for you to choose the right cereal, and staring like a toddler when people get too close.

mentioning toddlers, Michael and toddlers would stare at each other. until you or the parent interfere, and tell them to stop. While Michael doesn't really show his emotions on his face, you swear he gets really proud when he wins the staring contest.when he is the one losing he pouts.

When you make food Michael will either stand at the end of the kitchen watching you, or sitting on the couch not doing anything. He likes to hear you work but he gets bored quickly if you are not paying attention to him.

He barely watches TV but when he does he gets absorbed into it, almost like a trance. His favorite show is “Too Cute” on Animal planet, not because he finds the animals interesting but because it calms him down for some reason. you like watching it with him.

you try to get him to watch TV shows and movies with him, which he does sit down and watch with you but he does not get that much into it, he just likes to watch it because it is with you. The same goes for music.

When he wants to relax he wears a T-shirt and sweatpants. He likes how soft they are. However, when he has to go to bed you get him some really soft pajamas. He doesn't wear them often because he forgets about them due to his relaxation clothes being just as soft for him. He puts them on when you 2 go to bed right after a bath, or when you have just changed the sheets. though that is because you tell him to.

NSFW Headcanons

Michael did masturbate a lot both when he was incarcerated, he would use it to pass time in the psych ward. He didn't really care that the staff could see him doing it through the cameras in his cell.

His dick is bigger than the average person, being 6,5 inches in length. however he is pretty girthy, and it points a little upwards, he is also circumcised. 

He had no idear of what he was doing when you two first started fucking. He was so bad you had to tell him how to insert his dick into you, and why he could not just ram it in, but had to ease it in.

you also had to educate him on how to use condoms, lube as well as how to make sex pleasurable for the both of you.

Michael is allergic to silicone based lube, and because of that he is also allergic to condoms as well. He is luckily not too allergic to them, only gives him itchiness in his crotch area. When it first happened you both had to wait with sex for a week. you had to continuously put some form of salve on his area, and you also had to continuesly stop him from trying to fuck you after touching him there. 

After that situation you looked out for anything containing silicone or latex based products.

when you two finally had fucked it open up the pandoras box for all the dirty things you two would get up and in to.

you have fucked on the kitchen table on the couch in the shower one time he fucked you against the door of the main intrance. most likely scaring you neighbors. but most of the time he prefers the bedroom, not the bed but the bedroom. it's a place where you two can be left alone so you both cannot get unwanted guests.

Here are some quick kinks Michael discovered with you and when.

He learned he likes to choke you, he learned that when you tried to get up after an orgasm but he wanted you to stay down. He took hold of your throat in one hand and pushed you down into the maddress, not enough to choke you out of breath but to hold you down. he had to stop what he was doing after hearing the loudest moan come out of you, he really liked having that effect over you while also having control.

Michael likes impact play, you were head down ass up position and was moving around, Michael got really angry. He smacked your ass really hard, making you squeal by both pain and surprise. He liked the way he could hurt you while you also feeling pleasurable. He really likes making you feel good.

a similar thing happened when he slapped your crotch hard, he really liked the way you moan and whine.

he likes to restrain you in some way or another, when fucking on the kitchen table he lifted you up, holding you close while roughly hitting your hips together. It was a cold day so having you close was really nice to him.

Some of his favorite positions are the ones where you are off the ground, he likes the fact  you are completely defenseless and at his mercy. it gives him a sense of power, especially over you.

He doesn't talk normally and neither in the bed, however you can hear deep breaths, small whimpers and moans as well a lot of growls, his voice is really deep and it almost gives a little vibration through you.

Michael is still too green when it comes to sex for you two to incorporate toys into your adventures. same with preferences when it comes to if he wants to come in or on you and where he would like to come on you.

[animeshotsh]

You what? | Viktor x Jayce x Kid!Reader | Arcane ¤

Summary: Viktor knows Jayce sometimes does things without thinking, but this? This goes beyond his own limits.

Warnings: Mentions of trauma - Kid!Reader - Viktor and Jayce are a couple - OFF CANON EVENTS - Human traffic - GN Reader - PLATONIC - grammar mistakes -

When Viktor enters on monday morning into the lab with his coffee in hand he expects nothing but silence, after all he is here before Jayce most mornings.

But he stops in his tracks when he hears Jayce's voice, maybe sounding less...well less like him. He sounds like he is talking to a small animal. It reminds him on how he uses to talk to Rio when he was a kid.

Pushing memories aside Viktor retakes his way and goes deeper into the lab, where their experiments are.

And oh, if his illness did not kill him as most doctors had said then this would do it.

Jayce, using one of his experiments showing it to a kid who seems to be as suprised as any kid would be and perphas gives the most honest reactions to his inventions.

But wait, go back.

Jayce and a kid.

His cane hits the floor in suprise and he ends being watched by two pairs of eyes.

Jayce looks like he was discovered breaking some important rule, to which Viktor is centrain that bringing a kid into the lab counts as but he wont say it. And another pair that looks at him with curiosity.

There is silence, no one really knows what to say or how to act. But Jayce ends reacting, leaving the experiment and going to help Viktor with his cane who is feeling a headache coming.

"Hey Vik! long time no see, how's your house?"

Honestly? Viktor wants nothing more than to go back in time and insist that he is fine and does not need rest. Maybe like that he would have stayed with Jayce and prevent...this.

But time travel is something that is still on the making, so back to the main point.

Viktor just gives out the most tired look, then turns to a near chair, sits and taking his coffee simple says "Explain"

Becuase if there is something he has come to learn while dating and loving Jayce is that nothing should suprise him (and yet Jayce still manages to do it) and also, is better to ask upfront than to wait for him to talk up. Viktor can still remember that one time he found a big (illegal no less) plant at his home and Jayce ignored it for two hours till he asked.

"Well you see, its really funny actually..."

"Jayce...."

"Alright..., so I took a walk around campus and saw some...suspicious individuals and well lets say I was not very discrete"

Viktor can just imagine the scene

"And they saw me and ran but I chased after them"

Stupid move Viktor thinks

"And then they trow me this kid at me, i mean what could I have done? So i took them home, gave them a warm meal and a bath" Jayce ends sounding a bit too proud of himself.

"Jayce you...you stole a kid?" Viktor asks because he is confused "And did not report the incident?"

"Uh well i was going too but then (Y/N) started to wonder around so i kind of forgot..."

"(Y/N?" Viktor asks and sees you peeking out from behind the big desk.

"Yes! Thats their name, im not sure about much more, only that they like chocolate and blue stuff"

Viktor ends in silence for various minutes. You must be an orphan he concludes, an orphan from the undercity, who had no other choice but to follow a gang in order to survive. He tries to calculate your age but its hard, you have been not eating well, thats clear, and he can already see some bruises from the misstreatment of the undercity.

Being raised by parents or family its a luxury after all.

"Jayce you cant just take a kid in" Viktor says and his heart almost breaks as he sees you run towards Jayce hugging his legs.

Noted, you may not talk but you understand, its clear you are more intelligent than what you leave to be at first.

Street smart maybe?

"But Viktor! I cant just leave them" Jayce responds picking you up. "If they return to the undercity i dont think they will make it"

Jayce sees how you push your head against his chest and smiles softly at you.

"And we cant leaven them at an orphan home! I have read of these places, they suck"

Viktor must agree, its not like he comes from one but knows well that lots of kids ends being sold off...

"Alright and whats your plan?" Viktor asks "Do you even know what it means to raise a kid, or how? What about me? Were you going to consulte me?"

He can see the pain in Jayce eyes at his last sentence. "Of course I was! I was just thinking of a...well a good moment"

"Because bringing them to the lab was the perfect idea"

"I could not leave them at home! I mean i tried but- they would not let go of my leg, i think they have some type of trauma..."

Viktor takes another deep breath, Jayce kidness and heart knows no limits.

"Besides you did say you wanted to help the peopel from the undercity"

"This is different, we are talking about raising! adopting a kid!"

"So you are considering?" Jayce asks in the most hopeful tone ever.

Viktor just lets out another breath.

"Well, its not like they can go back and yes, orphan homes sucks" Viktor responds. "But we need to do this right. And i mean legally"

Jayce nods and all of him lights up like he has discover a new thing. He goes to Viktor carefully managing (Y/N) by his hands and leans down to peak Viktor's lips.

"Yes!! Totally! I will talk to Mel about it, im sure she can move some contacts for this" Jayce says and Viktor can see his brain making more and more plans.

"They also need clothes, and we should think of getting them into school" Viktor adds standing up with his cane and going closer. He can see (Y/N) eyes and cant denied how it makes his heart melts.

"Dad?" Its what you say looking at Viktor, then you look at Jayce "Mom?"

Jayce smiles and nods while Viktor is left without words. "Yes! We are your mom and dad now" he says pointing at him then at Viktor.

"Family?"

Jayce nods again

"...Chocolate?" You asks once more

"Alright thats all, if they eat too much sugar this place will be a disaster, you do remember we have dangerous things in here, right?"

Jayce nods at Viktor then whispers to you "We will get chocolate once we end work"

Viktor snorts then moves to his desk to finally start working and also to let his mind register everything. He hears the doors closing imagining Jayce went with you to talk to Mel.

But no, he feels a pull at his trousers and looks down at you who looks up at him extending your arms

"Dad! Up!"

Viktor does as told pulling you on his lap and passing you some papper and a pen. Both fall in a comfortable silence.

And Viktor thinks, this is something he can totally get used to.

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 4

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: Ready for a riding lesson? 😏

Song Inspo: “Sunshine on My Shoulders” by John Denver

Word Count: 6K

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, and a cliffhanger...

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 4: A Past & Future Thing

You gasped and gripped even tighter with your thighs. With almost everything you had.

You were still far too unsteady for comfort on this damn horse. The poor animal whinnied, tossing his head back with a huff. Unfortunately, that just made you tense up even more as you held onto his neck. 

Beau tried not to laugh. You looked like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.

“Okay, you needa relax a little,” he said. “He ain’t gonna buck you, long as you don’t give him a reason to.”

You shot him a narrowed look. He was sitting all calm and natural on his own horse, a chestnut brown beauty of a stud. Apparently, his name was Clyde. You were riding his brother Dale, who was supposed to be the older, gentler of the two.

Beau was right next to you, since he was the one holding the reins. You two were still just a little way off from the stable as he guided your horse with his, letting you just get a feel for the ride.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that animals can sense our vibes,” he said, giving you a look that tipped his Stetson forward. “So if you just take a few deep breaths, I promise you, it’ll get easier.”

You met Beau’s gaze. You didn’t know if it was the smooth, steady tone of his voice or the sincerity in his eyes, but you did as he advised. You made the effort of exhaling slowly, and you began to relax.

“Okay,” he nodded with a smile. Then he gestured ahead. “Now, look forward for me. Try not to look at his hooves, though I know they’re pretty.”

He teased a smile out of you as you did what he said, casting your gaze up ahead to the horizon. It was a beautiful day. A wide expanse of terrain laid out ahead of you, with green grass mottled with some brown, and a weather-beaten trail clearly carved by horses and lessons given.  

“And like I told you,” he added, “Try not to squeeze so hard with your legs, or he’ll think you’re rarin’ to go.” 

You blushed, and relaxed your thighs enough so you were just supporting yourself on the horse, not giving yourself a leg cramp. 

“Okay, I think you’re ready for me to let go. Wanna keep going on your own?” Beau suggested. 

You were wary, but you tentatively nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

“Are you sure?” Beau asked. Again, his eyes met yours. “I’ll keep guiding you the whole way if you want. Either way, I’ve gotcha.”

You swallowed down a bit of nerves. “Yeah?”

He smiled, and you noticed how it crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Trust me,” he said. “You’re not gonna fall on my watch.”

Warmth coiled its way around your heart. You let out another deep breath, and you agreed to have him hand over the reins to you. You were nervous at first, but Beau reminded you of how to guide Dale with subtle movements.

The old horse plodded forward without incident. When you gave Beau a triumphant look, that answering grin of his warmed you down to your toes. The two of you rode together more as companions while making your way across the grassy plain.

“So of all the things, why’d you wanna learn to ride a horse?” Beau asked.

“Because it terrified me,” you replied honestly. “I love animals, don’t get me wrong. Riding one though? They’re unpredictable…but I’m also tired of being afraid of what I can’t control.”

Beau nodded. He could certainly understand that.

Together, you traveled up a roaming hill. Once you reached the peak, you marveled at the view. The afternoon sun was bright and golden above the mountains and the distant line of trees.

Meanwhile, Beau glanced at you. You’d gotten more confident and comfortable in what you were doing, and it was endearing to see. You were cute, he could admit. Beautiful, as a matter of fact. You had the sun shining in your eyes, and on your hair getting tousled by the chilly breeze.

You also seemed to have a kind heart. He’d seen it in just how hard your friend’s death had hit you. He saw it again when he helped you move into your apartment. He saw the joy you took in cooking dinner for all of them after a long-ass day, even though you could’ve just ordered a pizza.

It was the little things, he thought, and the more he saw of you, the more he liked.

That thought also made his heart twinge, and not in a good way. Carla reared up in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure if it was more with annoyance or guilt at this point, but she’d moved on a hell of a long time before he had anyway. (Beau could admit that point, just to himself.)

It just made him wonder what he was doing here with you. Was it just because he knew you were having a hard time, and he wanted to cheer you up? Was it because you were Denise’s family? Or was it because…he just wanted to see more of you?

“You don’t get this view in the city, huh?” Beau asked. 

“You do not,” you replied. Your smile grew, making his do the same without him realizing.

Inside though, he wanted to shake his head at himself. You were a bit younger than him. Maybe not by all that much, in the grand scheme of things, but he was in his mid-forties, divorced with a sixteen-year-old daughter, and a somewhat unpredictable, occasionally dangerous job. At this point, he wouldn’t exactly consider himself a catch.

You were also dealing with a complicated past of your own. You’d been through a lot, especially in the past couple of weeks.

And yet, Cassie’s probing questions circled through his mind, invading his thoughts every time he found himself looking your way. 

Your face slowly dimmed. “Next week is Mary’s funeral. I’m going back home for a few days.”

Beau processed that with a nod, but he could guess why you looked worried. 

“And your ex?” he asked.

“He’s going to be there for sure. We were all close.” A deep breath rushed out of you. You peeled your eyes away from the view and looked over at him. “God help me, I don’t want to go home…does that make me a bad person?”

“Nah, I get it,” he said. He regarded you with more weight in his gaze. “But this guy. Is he the aggressive type?”

“No,” you assured. Then more wryly, “He’s only dangerous to my mental health.”

You contemplated that reality for a moment, and you shook your head.

“You know how I found out about what he was doing?” you asked. “He sent me a Happy Birthday text…a spicy one, you could say. But it wasn’t my birthday.” 

“Damn,” Beau said, grimacing in sympathy. 

You tried not to, but you began tearing up. Beau wanted to brush them from your cheek as he drew closer on his horse. Instead, he settled a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey,” he said, quiet and placating. “I’m thinking you’ve cried enough over this.”

“I just…I still feel so damn stupid,” you muttered, wiping under your eyes.  

“What, are you a Professor of Cheatin’ Bastards too?” Beau quipped. You smiled reluctantly.

“That’s not funny,” you complained. 

He flashed you a grin and allowed himself to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear when a breeze of wind blew it into your face.

“Come on. You know I’m funny,” he teased, but then, he became more serious. “It’s not your fault. Trust me, I know something about being the problem, and it’s not on you.”

Both your interest and concern were piqued.

“You and Carla?” you asked. “You’re telling me it was all on you?”

“Well, maybe not all. But like you, my ex-wife ain’t a fool,” Beau said. His eyes lowered, along with his hand from your arm. “Let’s just say, it was justified.”

Let’s just say, you contemplated. That seemed to be his favorite catchphrase.

You didn’t know if you altogether believed that. He was going to grief counseling for a reason. You wanted to ask why, more than anything, but you also didn’t want to press him on something if he didn’t want to talk about it. If he felt comfortable enough with you, someday, maybe he’d open up to you. 

So after a few minutes of savoring the view, and the moment, you returned to town together.

A few days later, Beau still had a bad feeling about Avery.

His company was being investigated by the SEC and was threatening to go under. Apparently, Avery had made “friends” with Luke on the trip, who according to Avery, let it slip that he and Paige had $15 million in cryptocurrency.

The passcode to that $15 million account was missing. Beau had more than half a mind to think Avery had made a play for it during that camping trip. Carla hadn’t known her new husband’s company was being investigated. She’d put her foot down with Avery about the lying, at least.

As a result, Beau’s only consolation in all this was that she and Emily were back in their house, while Avery was living out of a hotel in town. Beau might not be able to pin him for the stolen crypto right now, but he knew where to look for Avery when the evidence came.

The man was #1 on Beau’s punch list, and it was only getting longer.

Instead of letting those thoughts fester, he decided to actually take his lunch break, and go check in on his daughter. Denise and Cassie told him she was doing well as their summer intern.

Emily seemed to be enjoying her time helping the private investigators. She showed him her small workstation beside Denise’s desk, where she was organizing old and new files, inputting the hard copies into digital ones on Cassie’s spare laptop. Emily was also helping out with some database research on existing cases.

Satisfied that she was helping out, but wasn’t doing anything too close to actual police work, Beau took the opportunity to lean over to Denise and discreetly ask about you.

Namely, how you were doing, and if you’d called her from Chicago. He managed to hold himself from asking when you were coming back to Montana, at least.

Denise still gave him a certain smile.

“Yeah, she called yesterday. She’s coming back today actually,” she replied. “I’m planning to pick her up in a few hours.”

Beau’s lips twitched at a smile, and he nodded. “Good. That’s uh…that’s good. Tell her I said ‘welcome home.’”

Denise and Cassie shared a look, one that drew even Emily’s attention. She shot her dad a glance and noted the dumb smile on his face. One that he tucked away when he met Emily’s gaze.

“Anyway, looks like you’re doing all right here. You’re coming to stay with me tomorrow, right?” he asked her.

“Yeah, sure,” Emily agreed.

“Okay, kiddo. See ya then,” Beau said. He gave her a hug and kiss to the side of the head. Though she gave him a hug back, she watched with a bit of suspicion after he said goodbye to Cassie and Denise, strolling out the door like he was making some kind of escape.

The adults again shared a look of mutual understanding. Then Cassie smiled and grabbed her work bag.

“All right. I’ll be back in a bit. Need to check on a few leads,” she said.

After Emily and Denise waved her off, the latter made some tea and returned with a mug each for her and Emily. Denise reclaimed the seat behind her desk, but she turned towards the girl beside her.

“So, hun, how’re you doing?” Denise asked. “I mean, I know you’ve gone through a lot these past couple weeks, and we’re happy to give you a little distraction here. But are you okay?”

Emily bit her lip and turned her rolling chair towards Denise. She had to take some time with her answer. Ever since coming back from that camp, she didn’t know if she’d really answered that question honestly—not for her mom, or her dad.

“Well, on one hand, Mom kicked Avery out. Or, I guess he kicked himself out,” she said. “On the other hand, my mom and dad are getting along better than they have since before the divorce, so…there’s that.”

Emily rested her elbow on the desk in front of her, head in hand. Denise gave her a sympathetic half-smile.

“I don’t hate Avery,” Emily admitted. “I actually like him a lot. He made Mom happy again. But would it be nice if she and my dad…if we could be a family again? I mean, yeah.”

Denise was patient as she listened. She tried to keep her true thoughts on the matter inside as you came to mind, though she pushed all that into the background in order to give Emily her undivided attention. 

“At the same time, I don’t know,” Emily shrugged. “My dad’s a great person, but he’s not good at letting people in. I don’t think Mom could go through that again.”

“Go through what?” Denise asked. 

“The way my dad shut us out, after what happened to his partner,” Emily explained. Her face went from slightly sad, to wry. “Okay, yeah, my mom’s not the most patient person. But Dad still doesn’t talk about it, not even to Mom. Or to me.”

Denise had heard some small thing about Beau’s former partner from you, and even Jenny, but she didn’t know the specifics there. All she knew was it laid at the heart of Beau and Carla’s divorce.

“Well, he’s your dad,” Denise said with a sigh. “He wants to protect you, even if that means protecting you from himself.”

“Sure, okay, but he doesn’t have to though. Not all the time,” Emily said.

She could be a strong, even-keeled kid, mature for her age, but Denise saw the rare vulnerability in the girl’s eyes.

“Sometimes I wish he’d just talk to me,” Emily said. Her eyes fell away.

Denise’s heart broke for the girl. Not knowing what else to say, she scooched her chair forward and pulled Emily into a warm hug.

By the time Denise picked you up from the airport and dropped you off at your apartment, you were beyond exhaustion. Coming home from a week in your hometown in Chicago left you feeling drained. Physically, emotionally, down to your toes.

At least you were home.

It was a surprising feeling—the feeling that this was your home now. Already it felt real.

Seeing your ex will do that to you.

“So how was it?” Denise asked. She’d graciously made you dinner as well, so you didn’t have to cook or worry about eating out. You two sat on the couch in your living room while some romcom played in the background.

“Everything I thought it would be,” you replied, around a mouthful of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. You let out a heavy sigh.

It had been good to see your parents, you explained, and you’d finally been able to give your condolences to Mary’s parents in person—at the funeral.

That’s where Michael tried to corner you to hash out what would’ve been yet another argument, at the burial of all things. You had to restrain yourself from making a scene in front of Mary’s entire grieving family, as well as yours.

Denise shook her head. “That guy ain’t got an iota of shame.”

You snorted. “You’re telling me?!”

You shook your head and speared at your green beans with your fork. You couldn’t even mourn your friend in peace, for God’s sake.

“Did your parents try to get you to stay longer?” she asked.

Again, you scoffed. “Oh, yeah. They actually tried to use Mary’s death to get me to think Helena was more dangerous than Chicago.”

While you’d understood their point to an extent, your home city still maintained one of the worst crime rates in the U.S.

“Still think you made the right decision?” Denise asked. “Whatever’s in your heart about it, just know that I’m so happy to have you here.”

She took your free hand and squeezed. You managed to smile, if just a little.

“Yeah. I think so,” you replied.

Chicago would always have a place in your heart, but for better or worse, this was your new start. And you were taking it.

You woke up the next morning to a shiny new text message. Still bleary-eyed, you unlocked your phone, and you just had to smile.

It was from Beau Arlen, you were pleasantly surprised to find.

Hey there. Heard you were back in town. (Welcome home, by the way.) Just wanted to let you know that me, Cassie, and Jenny are hitting a bar tonight after shift. You’re welcome to join in. Say around 8?

Without even really thinking about it, you typed out your reply:

Sure! I’ll be there. (And thanks very much. It’s nice to know the county sheriff rolls out the welcome mat for all of Helena’s returning citizens.)

You got up and started your day. You were midway through brushing your teeth when your phone buzzed on the bathroom counter. Your lips curved into a smirk when you read Beau’s reply.

Sounds good. (And I’m happy to oblige. 😉)

You shouldn’t have been blushing at such a simple message, but it set off the butterflies regardless. You huffed and set down your toothbrush.

Damn it.

You were in trouble.

With such a nice start to your morning, you were smiling all the way into town. The place you were headed to was just down the street of Dewell & Hoyt, so you knew you had to stop in just to say hello. There you found Denise and Emily.

“Did you have a good trip?” Emily asked, after you let her go from a hug. You gave your aunt one next.

“It was…good,” you replied, with a sigh. “Mary’s at rest now.”

Your eyes stung at the thought, but you tried to blink past it, taking in a breath to steady yourself. While Denise rubbed your back, Emily squeezed your arm in comfort, leading you to give her a smile. She was a sweet girl.

“What brings you over?” Denise asked.

You shook your head to come back to yourself. You showed them the large bag you carried on your shoulder. It was full of your painting supplies.

“Well, I’m actually headed to an art studio just down the street. I looked up the lessons they were offering this week, and apparently today it’s painting on glass. Like a bowl, or a mug, or a little stained glass window. They’ve got different options.”

Emily looked intrigued. “Ooh, that sounds cool.”

“Yeah?” you said, raising a brow. “You’re welcome to come with me if you want. Unless my aunt can’t spare you, or you’d rather not. It’s fine.”

There was no pressure to your offer, but you remembered Emily being somewhat interested in your painting endeavors while on the camping trip. With everything the girl had been going through, you thought maybe she’d like something creative and fun to try to get her mind off things. You knew it was doing the same for you.

“No, that would be fun, I guess,” said Emily. She looked to Denise in askance, who waved a dismissive hand. 

“It’s okay, hun. Take the afternoon off,” she said. “I’ve got things here.”

Emily smiled and nodded.

“Okay. Let me just grab my stuff.”

You and Emily ventured together right down the street to the art studio. You paid for the $40 entrance fee each for you and Emily into the class.

You could see that she felt uncomfortable with that when you two took your seats near the back of the studio. It was pretty full, and neither of you wanted to be right at the front, preferring to hang out more chill-like in the back.

There at each long table was an easel each, after you chose what kind of glass you wanted to paint on. Emily chose a funky looking bowl, while you chose a rectangular piece of wood-framed glass.

“I’ll pay you back,” Emily said, once you two were comfortable in your respective seats. You waved her off.

“It’s okay, honey. I invited you,” you said. Then you gave her a conspiring look. “Here’s my rule of thumb, especially on dates, for example. The person who invites you should shell out.”

Emily smiled. “That makes sense to me.”

You saw the gears in her mind turning, and it reminded you of her little “summer project.” She’d told you about it a couple of times on that camping trip.

“How’s your podcast going?” you asked. The girl sighed; she chose a brush and started painting blue stripes across her glass bowl.

“Slow,” she admitted. “I’m lacking interesting subjects.”

You hummed at that. “Maybe you need a guest to help kick things off.”

Emily smiled at that. She turned to you with a gleam of excitement.

“Would you do it?” she asked.

Your mouth fell open in surprise. “Me? I think I’d be too boring. Isn’t your podcast about relationships?”

“Well, yeah, but that was a good bit you just had,” she said. “Who pays on a date?”

You thought about it with another hum of contemplation. Suddenly you could start to see the potential in her idea. You still didn’t want to be a subject of inquiry, but you didn’t want to dim her spark either.

“Well, it would be fun if you got a man’s perspective too,” you said.

Emily brightened. Finally, someone who cared about her side project. 

“What about Dad?” she said. “He’s a guy.”

You chuckled. “Well, yes.” 

Though you wondered about the last time he’d been on a date since his divorce, or if he even was dating right now. 

The more you thought about it, the more interesting it might be to see Beau answer some of those kinds of questions. It wasn’t at all because you were curious about the man yourself…

“Maybe you’re onto something there,” you said, a smile growing on your face.

“I’ll ask him,” Emily vowed. “Maybe he’ll actually open up for once.”

She sort of muttered that last bit. It caught your attention with a wry brow raise.

“What? Your dad is as chatty as they come,” you said. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, about dumb stuff,” she said. “Try to get anything serious out of him. He’s like an old clam.”

A snort of laughter escaped you. “Old clam. That’s nice.”

Though you saw that there was something deeper there for Emily. You’d seen these kinds of moments in some of your students before. Sometimes, they felt comfortable enough with you to share what they were going through at home. In Emily’s case, it seemed like she was hurting about something, maybe for a while now.

You continued painting on your glass project, but you offered her a look of understanding.

“Remember how I told you that my dad used to be a firefighter?” you said. Emily nodded.

“Well, your dad sounds a bit like mine. He’d rather consult a bottle of Jack Daniels than anyone else, really,” you confessed. “He saw a lot of things on the job that were hard. Too hard to explain. Possibly too hard to even work through. It made him…distant, when I was a kid. I don’t think we really connected until I got older.”

And even now, your relationship with him was rocky at best, after he’d suggested you try to work it out with Michael. You and your father hadn’t truly spoken ever since.

You still gave Emily a look of encouragement.

“But, it seems like you and your dad have a better relationship than I did with mine at your age,” you said.

That fell between you both while Emily ruminated in it. She started adding gold strokes to her bowl alongside the blue in swirling patterns, and it was a really nice touch, you told her. She thanked you with a little smile.

“Did my dad tell you that he lost his partner on the job?” she asked.

You sighed. “Yes, he told me some. We didn’t go too deep into it.”

“Well, for a whole year, it was like we barely existed,” she said. “Mom tried to help him. I tried…but I guess he was a lot like your dad.”

Your lips pressed together. You were sad to hear that, but it did remind you of what Beau told you that day, when he took you horseback riding.

“Well, maybe not all. But like you, my ex-wife ain’t a fool,” Beau had said. “Let’s just say, it was justified.”

You now nodded in understanding as you hummed. Let’s just say.

“He seems better now,” you remarked. 

“Yeah. He cleaned up when Mom left him,” Emily said. “I guess that’s what it took to snap him out of it.”

You shook your head, and you kept painting.  

You could understand Carla, all too well. It just hurt you, now that you knew what a good man Beau was. Your sympathetic heart said he didn’t deserve to get left behind when he needed his family the most.

However, the more logical part of you knew that sometimes, love just wasn’t enough to keep you tied to someone who didn’t seem to want to help themselves. When it felt like they were giving you no choice.

“Anyway, you’ll be my other guest, right?” Emily asked with a smile. “For the podcast.”

You barely resisted the urge to groan. As much as you preferred not to put yourself out there, you didn’t want to discourage the girl in her project.

“Well…okay. If you get your dad on, I’m sure it’ll be interesting,” you said, your lips forming a grin. You two continued to paint while chatting about Emily’s favorite subjects in school. English, sadly, was not one of them, but you weren’t offended by it. Shakespeare wasn’t for everyone.

“I’m actually meeting your dad for drinks tonight. If you want, I’ll ask him about being on the podcast, try to soften him up for you,” you offered. “Though I’m sure he’ll do it if you asked.”

Emily considered you with a bit more scrutiny. “Are you…seeing my dad?”

“Oh, no,” you said immediately. Just the suggestion had your cheeks warming. “Cassie and Jenny will be there too. It’s nothing like that.”

“Sure,” Emily said. She gave an awkward laugh. 

“Really, Em. He and I are just friends,” you promised. 

Even if that thought stung a little.

Despite what you told Emily, you did put a fair amount of effort into your appearance to meet your new friends that night for drinks.

You even put on your favorite red lipstick with some dark wash jeans, a black pair of ankle boots, and a black lace top to match, complete with off-the-shoulder sleeves. 

Cassie whistled lowly when she saw you walk into the bar from her seat in one of the booths. She smiled and nudged Beau, whose face slackened when he saw you. 

God help him, you were sexy as hell in black. 

Black lace, he corrected himself. Your hair was a bit wild and teased out. The flash of red was a pleasant surprise, momentarily drawing his eyes to your lips. He felt the back of his neck heat up, but he tried to hide it all behind a friendly smile. He found himself sliding out of the booth to hug you in greeting. 

Goddamn, she smells good too, he thought. Was that your perfume, or your shampoo? Whatever it was, he liked it more than was good for him.

He managed to let you go though, and he grinned at your somewhat shy smile. You moved on to greet Cassie next, then Jenny, before you slid into the booth next to her and across from Beau and Cassie. 

“How was Chicago?” Jenny asked. It brought the mood down some. You gave a true smile, however tinged with melancholy. It was still very difficult to talk about Mary, but since everyone at the table knew the full story, it was easier to be honest.

“Chicago was needed. It was good, in a way. I got to lay her to rest,” you replied. “But I’m glad to be back.”

“Glad to have you back,” Cassie said. She passed you a tequila shot. 

“Ooh, nice.” You weren’t usually one for hard liquor, but tonight, you thought you could let yourself go a little. You downed the shot in one. 

“Eyy, good job,” Beau said, raising his whiskey with a wink. You laughed in slight embarrassment and wiped the corner of your mouth.

While Cassie called over the closest server to get them started with some appetizers for the table, you turned to Beau.

“You know, I did a painting class with Emily today,” you told him. “She did great! Has a nice little bowl to put her jewelry in.”

He raised his brows, smiling. “Is that so? What do you know. My little girl’s a budding artist. Is she gonna go all broody and steal even more of my vinyl?”

You shook your head in amusement.

“She’s a teenager. They don’t need any excuses to be broody,” Jenny remarked.

“Fair enough,” Beau chuckled.  

“Actually, she asked me to be on her podcast,” you said. “She wanted to see if you’d join in for a segment.”

The man looked uncertain at that. You understood his reservations, because you had the same ones. Cassie and Jenny looked amused by the idea of him getting recorded and put on social media by his sixteen-year-old.

“Look, I know, but she just wants to ask us a few questions,” you said. “Like who should pay on a date, that sort of thing.”

Beau rested his elbows on the table and folded his hands. The humor in his green eyes shone under the soft gold lamplight.

“Well, that’s easy. I was raised to be a gentleman,” he said. “I wouldn’t feel right letting a woman pay for me.”

You tilted your head in interest. A smile started to play on your lips as you leaned forward on your folded arms.

“Huh. Well, I think whoever asks the person out should pay,” you posed. “That doesn’t necessarily mean the man pays every time.”

Beau’s lips twitched, but there was a subtle shake of his head.

“I don’t know. That just doesn’t sit right with me for some reason,” he said. 

You turned to Jenny and Cassie for some support, and they both gave Beau an unimpressed look.

“You mean to tell me you wouldn’t let me pay for my own drinks?” you asked. “I have a job. I make money, same as you.”

At that, Beau chuckled. “Hey now, I didn’t say you couldn’t pay for your own. But you’re certainly not paying for mine.”

“So in your world, I can’t ever treat my man if I want to?” you challenged.

“What, you mean to tell me you don’t like getting spoiled?” Beau countered.

When you smiled, it had an amused, almost flirtatious edge that began to make him hot under the collar. 

“Occasionally, sure I do,” you replied. “But then again, who doesn’t like getting spoiled now and again?”

“Doesn’t have to be about who pays either,” Cassie interjected. 

“It sure doesn’t,” Jenny agreed. The women laughed and clinked their drinks together, leaving Beau with a warming face under his beard. He once again chuckled, conceding defeat. 

Conversation spiraled from there, in which Jenny mentioned something about her and Beau’s latest finished case about Brett, a skydiving, former firefighter’s murder.

It was a coverup for a larger scheme within his old firehouse—where firefighters had been looting homes after they’d been cleared out of a fire. Brett’s friend had been killed on one of those jobs, and not by accident either.

“That’s awful,” you said with a frown, once she finished explaining.

Against your will, it made you think of your ex-fiancé, Michael. He was still an active firefighter. While he had been a shitty boyfriend, at the very least you’d never had reason to question his integrity as a first responder.

“Yeah, it was hard on the father too. He’s the unit chief, and the whole operation was happening on his watch,” Beau said. “One of his own firefighters killed his son. It’s damn near unthinkable.”

Beau’s mood had shifted the moment Jenny brought up this case, you noticed. He was staring mostly into his half-empty whiskey glass, as if contemplating a refill.

“We said we wouldn’t talk shop tonight,” Cassie said. She seemed to notice his downshift as well. She got up out of her seat in the booth. “Let me get the next round. Another tequila?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. You’d probably pace yourself this time.  

“Not for me, I’m good with this,” Beau said. 

He held that whiskey between his hands, and you were glad that he was going slow. Your conversation with Emily about his own bout with grief and loss was still fresh in your mind. While your heart broke for him, you were also a little worried for him. Had this latest case opened up some old wounds?

“I’ll go with you,” Jenny said. You slid out of the booth so Jenny could as well. It left you and Beau to talk, while Jenny and Cassie went up to the bar together.

Cassie tried to get the bartender’s attention, but she glanced at her friend out of the corner of her eye.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Fine. Why?” Jenny replied. But she wasn’t meeting Cassie’s gaze. She was watching you and Beau, almost in melancholy.

Cassie’s brows furrowed as she realized what was happening. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before, considering both of their professions. 

“Aw, Jenny…” Cassie breathed. She wondered just how long her friend had been harboring some feelings for Beau Arlen.

Knowing she was “caught,” Jenny gave a wry smile.

“Don’t. It’s not a big deal,” she said quietly. “He likes her.”

Cassie sighed. “I think so. Even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

“He deserves something good,” Jenny said. Her smile was a bit more genuine this time. Cassie nodded in agreement.

“So does she, after what she’s gone through.”

“So how are you doing?” you asked Beau. It was the first time you’d been alone with this man since that horse riding lesson last week, and part of you was feeling a bit nervous.

Just friends, like you told Emily. You had to remind yourself. Just friends…until evidence points to the contrary.

At your question, Beau heaved a sigh, running a hand over his face. Suddenly he looked more tired than he did before. The laugh lines around his eyes looked more like the telltale signs of stress.

“Well, first off, we found the missing backpacker,” he said. “It seems the poor young man fell down a cliff while hiking.”

Your brows furrowed and you covered your mouth with a hand. “Oh my God.”

Beau nodded in grim confirmation. His gaze met yours.

“But I also wanted to tell you this in person when you got back. I’ve also got a silver lining on our mountain man, Walter,” he continued. “He confessed to murdering Paige. He’s keeping tight-lipped about Mary and Luke, but we’ve got him dead set to rights on at least one of the murders.”

You processed that with a shaky breath. Then you nodded.

“We’re gonna keep working on him from every angle, I promise,” Beau said. Just like he’d promised you before—that he would get justice for Mary. You believed him.

“Thank you,” you said. Your gaze softened, and you contemplated laying your hand over his on the table. You just barely stopped yourself.

Instead, you cleared your throat and swiped some of your hair over your shoulder.

“Any other news, hot off the press?” you joked, trying to alleviate the heaviness in your heart. Beau quirked a smile. He leaned back in his seat and carded a hand through his hair.

“Ahh. Well…you know I’m investing my ex-wife’s husband,” he said drolly, sipping his whiskey. “And that’s going about as well as it sounds. I can’t get into the details of course…but he might be dealing in something shady.”

Your eyes widened. “Shady, or dangerous?”

Beau realized how he’d let that last bit slip out. He wished he hadn’t. Not only did he not want to worry you, but he didn’t want you anywhere near his open cases.

“I’m keeping close tabs on Carla and Emily just to be safe,” he admitted. 

Your face became the picture of concern. But before you could respond, a man approached the table, tall and lean, with a shaggy cut of dark blonde hair. He wore a pair of faded jeans, boots, and a gray and red Chicago FD shirt. 

Your face paled, and your mouth parted in surprise. 

“Hey there, stranger,” he said with a smile. 

“Michael?” you gasped.

AN: 🫣 Yep, we're going there lol. But how did you like the horseback riding lesson? Or her little day out with Emily? Or the bit of fun at the bar, before Michael showed up?

You'll definitely be seeing more of that guy in Part 5...

Next Time:

“Michael?” you gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Beau’s eyes widened. Michael was younger than him, closer to your age. And cocky too.  

“Hey, baby,” Michael said. His smile quirked with charm, but his next words were anything but charming. 

“We need to talk,” he said, raising his brows.

“We actually don’t,” you retorted in a firmer voice. Cold even. You straightened in your seat. 

Beau saw none of your softness and good humor from earlier. This was a different woman, and he was actually proud of you for standing your ground. Though he realized then that he’d never gotten on your bad side. (He hoped he never did.)

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 5

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ades106

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons

@antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @deans-spinster-witch @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @lostin-jensenseyes @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow

[chlorinecake]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐏'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝟐 — a yang jungwon fanfic

Previously ⊱✿⊰

𖤣 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after sharing with Jungwon your true feelings about the way he treats you during a fight, unexpected changes take place as you learn more about him

𖥧 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: abduction themes, swearing, violence, crying, nudity, attempted assault, slow burn, moody, not proofread ~

𖡼 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.3k ~ The next part...

✎ note: In no way does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. I write purely for entertainment and creative purposes. Reader discretion is advised. 

You sat in the bath completely naked before Jungwon. He was still dressed in his work clothes as he hovered over the edge of the tub, lathering an orange scented soap all over your grimy skin.

Jungwon had forgotten you outside in the garden after assaulting you on the picnic mat that day. It wasn’t until a whole 48 hours had passed before he finally came back, only to find a cold and hungry you balled up under a bush. The trembling in your stomach remains as if it was yesterday, even though by now, the incident was more than three days ago.

You didn’t expect Jungwon to apologize for leaving you in the wilderness all that time, as part of you believed it was some sort of punishment for rejecting him. Though, if you were crazy enough, or maybe even smart enough, you probably would’ve tried running away when you had the chance—

“How’s the water,” Jungwon asked softly, using a comb to pick with the remnants of wildlife that decorated your hair, leafy bits falling into the warm rose petal bath.

“It’s lovely, Won-ah,” you replied with a blank expression, “I really don’t mind cleaning myself, though.”

“I insist, love. It’s the least I could do after letting you get so dirty in the first place.”

Oh, so that’s what he’s calling it now.

You watched as a cluster of bubbles swam on the surface of the bath water, reminding you of lily pads before they crashed into your legs, melting at your skin. Jungwon mirrored the bubbles in a lot of ways. At first glance, he seemed bright and friendly, bumping along pink waves that only drew him closer and closer to you. Though, once you finally collided, it’s like he couldn’t help but to absorb the contact.

Devouring you.

“I can tell there’s something on your mind, ____,” he interrupted your daydreaming, using a wash towel to rinse the muggy suds from your hair. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Pop.

The bubbles faded away as if knowing what was about to come.

“I-I don’t… it’s just,” you felt your breath grow unsteady as you struggled to answer him, let alone honestly.

The truth was, you hadn’t gotten much rest over the past few nights as you couldn’t shake the thoughts of what he almost did to you in the garden. You also didn’t want to provoke Jungwon by telling him what was truly on your mind.

Though, like a true predator, he sensed the fear in your silence.

“Why’re so scared of me,” he half-chuckled, putting the towel down before sitting on his knees. “It’s like you think I’m waiting to pounce on you or something.”

“Jungwon—”

“Look. Unless you plan to be honest with me, I’d rather you just keep quiet again.”

“Jungwon—”

“I’m listening, love,” he said, looking into your eyes with an intense gaze.

You were frustrated with his lack of patience yet also by your own hesitance to his curiosity, strangely making you feel guilty. You sunk deeper into the water, folding your arms over your bare chest as an attempt to make yourself feel more comfortable in your nakedness.

You sighed, “I haven’t gotten much sleep over the past few nights.”

He blinked, “____, if this is about the lamp, I’ll put it back in your room—”

“No, Jungwon.”

“When we first met, you told me that you were afraid of the dark. I’m so sorry for overlooking that, love—”

“Won, I didn’t finish what I was gonna say—”

“Do you want me to start sleeping next to you? I really don’t mind! You don’t have to be embarrassed about it either! I’d leap at any chance to get closer to you.”

Jungwon rested a hand on your shoulder which caused you to flinch away from him, clinging to the farther end of the tub. A bit of water splashed from your movements, wetting his clothes and the floor. He scoffed at your behavior, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Do you have any idea how it makes me feel when you jump at my mere touch? Like I’m some fucking monster?”

You stared back at him, chest heaving in regret.

He waited a few moments before getting up abruptly, leaning over the tub and pulling your soaking wet body out.

“Jungwo—” your words were cut short as he forcefully pinned you to the cold ground, your wet hair sprawled all over your frightened features. He ignored the puddles of water that you left on the floor, maintaining his grip on you by caging you between his legs.

Flashbacks resurfaced in the back of your mind. Or maybe this was all just a terrible sense of déjà vu. You wrestled beneath him, knowing good and well that your strength stood feeble against his. Still, it felt better to retaliate than to give in.

“Let go of me, Jungwon,” you fought, earning yourself a slap to the face.

“I’m only gonna give you few seconds to calm me down before I fuck the shit out of you on this bathroom floor.”

You winced at his words at if they cut you physically, still holding in the tears that wanted to spill from the slap.

You tried swallowing the fear that meddled at your core, knowing that when to it came to Jungwon, choosing silence was synonymous with suicide. Suddenly, your fright was replaced with a familiar rage.

“How am I supposed to tell you anything when you’re always seconds away from snapping on me?!” Your voice cracked.

He blinked at your words, “What did you just say?”

“I can’t sleep at night because of you, Jungwon! Why would I be afraid of the dark when what’s hiding in it is way fucking worse,” you swore, not being able to maintain the polite tone you usually spoke with.

He leaned back from your body, confused eyes wondering all over before something clicked in his mind: “You can’t force me to love you. Not like this.”

Immediately, he reached for the large towel that hung over the bathroom sink, draping the material over your shoulders as an attempt to cover you.

The bathroom by now was a dripping mess that he’d have to take care of later, but for now, his focus was on you.

He forced you to sit up, meeting him eye to eye on the damp tiles. He thought about the way you flinched at his touch. The way you tried covering yourself when facing him. The way your lip quivered before you could push out any words.

I am a monster, he thought to himself.

Tears grew in his eyes that mirrored your own red ones. His previously hostile hands rested sweetly in his lap, cautious not to touch you again. His shoulders rose and fell as he tried to calm his sobs, while all you did was sit uncomfortably and watch.

“Unless you plan on apologizing, I’d rather you quit your crying already,” you spat resentfully.

He looked at you with a frown, “Don’t talk to me like that.”

You shook your head at him, “And why not? Huh? Why not, Jungwon? When you can call me anything from your lover to a bitch and still expect me to believe it’s a matter of kindness!”

“____—”

“When every moment we share has to feel like I’m walking on the very egg shells of your erratic emotions!”

“I have to be this way for us—”

“When you threaten to rape me and get upset once I’m disgusted by you—”

Jungwon knocked over the bottles of shampoo that sat on his bathroom shelf, wailing at your words like a baby. Your body tensed at the chaos, ears ringing from the sudden noise. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ____,” he whined in between his frustration, “I am so… fucking… sorry.”

He didn’t bother wiping the tears that fell from his face, as they were gonna keep coming anyways.

“Sorry’s not good enough, Jungwon,” you sniffled, face still burning with emotion.

“Then I promise I’ll never hurt you in that way again. I swear to God, ____, I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to,” he pleaded, his nose and cheeks turning a soft shade of red.

He met you on the ground again, fingers fidgeting as if desperate to touch you again.

“Please say something, love.”

You sighed, “What is there to say, Wonnie?”

He sniffled at your words, hanging his head low with shame, “Fuck, ____, can you let me hug you at least? Can you hold me?”

You froze at his request. It was odd hearing Jungwon of all people ask for your consent, seeking comfort from the very person he constantly took it away from. He looked as if he would crumble if you told him no, so you gave in with a nod, allowing him to fall into your arms.

You ran a hand over his back as you tried soothing his nerves, feeling his hands desperately cling to your naked body as if he were the victim here. It never failed to shock you how his emotions could switch up, going from soft, sinister, to sullen in just a few seconds.

Cradling him granted you a satisfying sense of dominance, finally making him feel shame for the way he treated you, even though it’d only last for the moment.

“You can stop crying now, Jungwon. I’ve already forgiven you.”

That night, you and Jungwon slept in the same bed together, which was a first for the both of you, yet thankfully not as awkward as you thought it’d be. When you woke up, he was sitting at the edge of the bed, holding a steaming cup.

“What’s that?” You asked as the scent of foreign herbs hit your nose.

“I didn’t mean to leave you, but this tea couldn’t wait. It’s a mix of medicinal plants from my garden. It should help you sleep better,” he smiled, scooting closer to you on the bed.

“Drink up!”

“B-but it’s still morning, I can just drink it tonight.”

“It’s not fast acting, ____. You’ll need to drink it a few hours ahead of time in order for it to work,” he said, bringing the porcelain cup to your lips for you to sip.

“There are a few things I need to teach you so you won’t need me as much when I’m away. Besides, I could really use your help around the garden. How’s that sound?” You swallowed, “Don’t you have work today?”

“I got off early, love. I’ll be back with a change of clothes for you and we’ll meet outside,” he smiled again, biting back the urge to kiss you before walking out of the room.

After taking care of your hygiene, you got dressed in the oversized flannel and joggers he gave you, meeting Jungwon outside in the sunny field.

“It’s not morning anymore, is it?” You asked shyly, earning a fit of giggles from him.

“Yeah, no. I was honestly surprised when I came back and you were still sleeping.”

You took in the scenery of green grass and daunting forest frees before he placed a hand at the small of your back, guiding you a few feet further in the pasture. “D'you see that,” he pointed at the sky, sun rays glistening against his honey brown eyes that were still slightly swollen from the night before. “It’s around 6pm. Whenever the sun falls in between the top of that hill and the tallest tree to its left, you’ll know that I’m on my way back from work… or that it’s almost time for dinner,” he chuckled.

You hesitantly reached for his arm to examine the wristwatch he wore, reading the time that read 6:02pm. You always heard about people being able to tell the time from the sky, but you never actually believed it untll now.

“You never told me what you do for work?”

He sighed playfully in response, “So many questions, my love, but the answers will have to wait.”

Your eyes wandered off again before landing on a secluded green house with sage-stained glass trimming the domed ceiling.

“I have just one more question, Jungwon.”

“Mhm, and what’s the catch?”

“That if you answer honestly, I promise not to ask you anything else for the rest of this week.”

“Aww, what a stingy time frame,” he pouted, trying to hold back a smile, “what must you know, love?”

“That green place over there,” you said, pointing in its direction, “I wanna know what that is. If you don't mind sharing...”

You could see Jungwon swallow deeply at your question, placing his hands on his hips before slowly pacing back and forth.

“You promise you won’t ask me anything else if I tell you this,” he asked, meeting your eyes with his own nervous ones.

“Yes, Jungwon, I promise.”

He took a deep breath before speaking, “I’ll start with saying that it’s forbidden. Though, it’s where I keep the more…precious of my belongings. And exotic plants, too, like the ones I put in your tea.”

“Why is it forbidden—”

“Nuh-uh, no more questions, love," he interrupted, taking your hand in his before heading back to the cabin. "I'll take you to the kitchen where I keep my first aid supplies. It'll come in handy if you ever injure yourself while I'm gone."

You were still feeling relatively sleepy after just getting up, but you knew it'd benefit you later if you payed attention to his teachings.

"I know how to use a band-aid, Jungwon," you joked, skipping behind him with lazy steps.

“Well, in that case, we can skip this lesson," he said, letting go of your hand before rushing inside. Only a few seconds passed before he ran back out with a shotgun in his hand.

"I'm sure you'll want a tutorial for this one."

☆ Special thanks to @guessm0del for requesting a continuation of this piece! I'm honestly not too proud of this one, but hey, I tried! Hopefully it’ll come together better if y’all want a part 3...

☆ taglist: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @03sunoos @kaykay11sworld @gigiramirezsblog @hoonsyo @en-thralled  @night-en-shining-armor @cutiejseong @j-wyoung @rickysblkgf @bambangan @wonbyf @4imhry @zhangyi-johee @naddii  @valhrts @lisaaannna @lovelycassy @addictedtohobi @gardenwons @nikipedia07@tubatusoobs @03sunoos @clarisabutterfliescupcake @yevene @heecries @rosiemiayyxy @jungwonieee @edgykoo @luvmlkw @idkhoomanmaybe @sunsinmyskies

[brunchable]

Untamed Chaos [Request] || Doctor Strange x Scarlet Witch!reader.

Genre: Oneshot, Light-hearted romance, Teacher/Student Words: 5.4K The Request: a fanfic where the reader is Scarlet Witch and she is very insecure and afraid of her powers and Stephen Strange helps her control her powers. A/N: First request in such a long time. I mayhaps liked this idea a bit too much I got carried away but I hope it can make someone's day. Thank you to the GIF creator. For @honeymoon-salvatore

You've always been afraid of your powers. They are immense, unpredictable, and often seem to have a will of their own. It wasn't until the incident in your hometown that you truly understood the magnitude of your abilities. 

You had only meant to defend yourself, but in the blink of an eye, the entire street had been engulfed in a swirling vortex of energy, leaving destruction in its wake. The fear and confusion in the eyes of those around you still haunt your dreams.

Since then, you've kept your distance from people, isolating yourself to prevent any further harm. Your powers feel like a ticking time bomb, always on the verge of exploding. 

You can't control them, not fully, and the unpredictability is what scares you the most. One moment, you could be sitting peacefully, and the next, you could be unintentionally causing objects to levitate or shatter around you.

You've tried to manage them on your own, practicing in secret, but the progress has been slow and often discouraging. Each failed attempt chips away at your confidence, leaving you feeling more vulnerable and isolated. The frustration builds within you, feeding into the fear, creating a vicious cycle that's hard to break.

You often find yourself alone, both physically and emotionally. The isolation is a double-edged sword; it keeps others safe from your powers, but it also leaves you without support, without someone to reassure you that you're not a monster. You yearn for connection, for someone to understand your struggle, but the risk of hurting someone is too great. The potential destruction you could cause keeps you at a distance, even from those you care about the most.

In moments of despair, you imagine a life where your powers are not a curse but a gift, where you can use them without fear. But those are just dreams, far removed from your current reality. Every day is a battle against yourself, against the fear that one wrong move could lead to disaster. You live with the constant reminder that you are different, that you are dangerous, and that there might never be a place for you in the world as you are.

Despite the fear and the isolation, there's a flicker of hope within you. A hope that maybe, just maybe, someone out there can help you. Someone who understands what it's like to wield such power and can guide you in controlling it. This hope leads you to the doors of the Sanctum Sanctorum, but standing there, you hesitate. Your hand hovers over the grand door, and a wave of shame washes over you. What if Doctor Strange sees you as a lost cause? What if he thinks you're too dangerous to be helped?

× × × × 

As you approach the grand doors, your heart races with anticipation. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before knocking firmly. The sound echoes in the silence, and the massive doors creak open seemingly on their own, revealing the grand entrance hall bathed in dim, mystical light.

At the top of the sweeping staircase, Stephen stands tall, his presence commanding and imposing. His cape flows dramatically behind him, catching the light in a way that makes it seem almost alive.

“Ah, I’ve been expecting you,” he says with a knowing smile.

“Expecting me?” you ask, chuckling sheepishly. You can’t shake the feeling of shame that lingers, making you want to shrink away.

“Yes. I could sense your presence,” he replies, descending the stairs. “And besides, you’re not exactly subtle.”

You manage a small, nervous laugh, looking down at your feet. “I actually came to ask for your help, Doctor Strange. My powers… they’re out of control. I-I don’t know how to handle them.”

“Hmm.” Stephen nods, his expression turning serious but not unkind. “Come with me. Let’s see what we can do.”

As he turns to lead you deeper into the Sanctum, you can't help but blurt out, “Are we starting already?”

Stephen glances back at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “No, we're going to have a tea party first. What do you think?”

You roll your eyes but feel a bit of the tension ease away. “Very funny.”

“I thought so,” he replies with a smirk, leading you to the doors that lead to Kamar-Taj.

The morning air at Kamar-Taj is crisp and fresh, the early sunlight casting a warm glow over the ancient courtyard. Birds chirp in the distance as you and Stephen stand in the center of the tranquil space.

“First things first,” he says, “Do you know the true nature of your powers?”

You nod, feeling a familiar weight settle on your shoulders. “I know. But I don’t know how to control them. It’s like trying to tame a storm.”

He nods, seeming to have expected that answer. “Your powers are unlike any other. They’re rooted in something very ancient and very potent—chaos magic.”

“How do I control something that’s inherently chaotic?” You sigh, looking down at your hands, a flicker of crimson energy dancing across your fingertips. 

“By understanding it, accepting it, and learning to channel it. It’s not about suppressing your emotions, but rather, learning to use them to your advantage.” Stephen steps closer, his voice gentle but firm.

“That’s easier said than done.” You scoff, frustration coloring your voice.

Stephen raises an eyebrow. “Is it? Or are you just making excuses?”

You glare at him, but there is no malice in your eyes. “You’re really good at this comforting thing, aren’t you?”

"I try," he says with a smirk, “Look Y/N you came here asking for my help. I know the media doesn’t really paint you. . . gracefully. So, from now on try not to let your self-doubt eat you up.”

You look down. Even though that was a hard pill to swallow, he was right.

“Come with me.” He leads you to a secluded area of the courtyard, where ancient runes are etched into the stone floor. 

“This area should have ample space to practice powerful magic. It will be a safe place for you to practice control.”

You nod, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. 

“First, we’ll start with some basic exercises. Focus on your breathing, and let your mind clear. Feel the energy within you, but don’t try to control it yet—just observe.” Stephen begins to demonstrate, weaving his hands through the air, creating intricate patterns of golden light. 

You close your eyes, following his instructions. You can feel the familiar hum of your powers beneath your skin, a constant presence that you're trying to grow accustomed to. Slowly, you begin to breathe in rhythm with the energy, letting it flow through you without trying to shape it.

“Good, you learn quickly.” Stephen’s voice breaks through your concentration. “Now, open your eyes and focus on a single point in front of you. Imagine your energy flowing towards that point, like a stream of water.”

You do as he says, but suddenly, a surge of power rushes through you, causing your body to twitch while you attempt to contain it. Your eyes snap open in panic. Your powers spiral out of control. Crimson energy begins to swirl around you, leaves and dust spiraling  around leaving you at its center. The ground trembles, and a strong wind whips through the trees around you.

"Dammit!" you shout, sinking to your knees as you try to contain the chaos. "I can’t do this, Doctor. It’s too much."

Before you can even process what's happening, Stephen is already moving, his hands weaving complex patterns in the air. Golden bands of light appear, encircling the wild energy and containing it. Sweat beads on his forehead from the effort, but his eyes remain focused and determined.

“Stay with me, Y/N,” he calls out, his voice straining as he tries to contain your powers. “You can do this. Focus on my voice.”

You try to calm your racing heart, taking deep breaths as you attempt to regain control. The golden bands tighten around the chaotic energy, slowly but surely bringing it under control. 

Finally, the room falls silent, the wild energy dissipating into the air. Stephen kneels beside you, his hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says softly. “It’s okay to struggle. You’re learning, and that takes time.”

You look up at him, your eyes glistening, “What if I hurt someone? What if I hurt you in the process?”

“You won’t,” he assures you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Relax, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “I’m sorry, Stephen. It just… it just got away from me.”

He smiles reassuringly. “It’s all part of the process. Let’s try again.”

You picture the crimson energy within you, flowing outwards in a controlled stream. To your surprise, the energy responds, a thin tendril of red mist extending from your hand and touching the ground where you’re looking.

“Excellent. Now, try to maintain that flow, but gradually increase the intensity.” Stephen smiles, clearly pleased with your progress.

You concentrate, feeling the energy surge within you. The tendril of light thickens, glowing brighter as more power flows through it. You can feel the wildness of the chaos magic, but it no longer feels overwhelming—it’s like riding a powerful wave, guiding it with subtle movements.

“Remember, your emotions are your fuel,” Stephen reminds you. “Channel your focus, your determination, and your control into the magic.”

You nod, feeling a growing confidence. The energy flows more smoothly now, the thread of light dancing in intricate patterns at your command. It’s exhilarating, feeling the power within you and knowing that you’re in control.

“Alright,” Stephen says, taking a step back, his expression serious. “Now, let’s test your control under pressure. I’ll create some moving targets, and I want you to hit them with precise bursts of energy.”

He raises his hands, and several glowing orbs appear, floating in a precise formation. They begin to move, weaving through the air in unpredictable patterns. “Focus, Y/N. Use your emotions to guide your power.”

You take a deep breath, focusing on the first target. You extend your hand, and a tendril of crimson light shoots out, striking the orb dead center. It shatters in a burst of golden sparks.

Stephen nods approvingly. “Good. Now, try the next one.”

You move to the second target, feeling a surge of confidence. This time, you channel a stronger burst of energy, the crimson light brighter and more intense. The orb explodes, scattering shards of light in all directions.

As you continue, the targets move faster, their patterns more erratic. You struggle to keep up, the energy within you becoming harder to control. Sweat beads on your forehead, and your breath comes in shallow gasps.

“Stay focused,” Stephen encourages.

But the pressure mounts, and the chaos magic within you begins to surge again. One of the targets moves unexpectedly close to Stephen, and in a moment of panic, you release a powerful burst of energy.

The crimson tendril lashes out, striking Stephen’s arm before you can stop it. He stumbles back, a pained expression crossing his face as blood begins to seep from a cut on his arm.

“Oh my god, Stephen!” you cry out his name accidentally, rushing to his side. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Don't. It was an accident.” He grits his teeth, his hand applying pressure to the wound.

You remained quiet, even though guilt is a close friend of yours, it still felt corrosive. 

× × ×

The morning training session had taken a turn you hadn’t anticipated. Now, sitting in the quiet, dimly lit infirmary at Kamar-Taj, the reality of your lack of control weighs heavily on you. Stephen sits on a low bench, his shirt discarded to reveal a nasty gash on his arm, inflicted by your uncontrolled magic. 

His Cloak of Levitation hovers nearby, holding the first aid kit with its hem, seeming to watch over him protectively.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” Stephen says, his voice smooth despite the pain. He gestures to the hovering Cloak, which gently extends the first aid kit towards you. “Can you take the antiseptic and bandages?”

You quickly reach for the items, your hands shaking slightly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Y/N, it’s okay,” he interrupts gently, a small smile playing on his lips despite the grimace of pain.

“Let me help.” You kneel beside him, the sight of the deep cut making your stomach churn. The Cloak hovers closer, as if wanting to assist but unsure how. Stephen takes the antiseptic from you, but you gently place your hand over his. 

He nods, relinquishing the bottle. 

You pour the antiseptic onto a cloth and carefully dab it on the wound. Stephen hisses, his muscles tensing under your touch. His skin is warm, the contours of his body highlighted in the soft light of the infirmary. You try to focus on the task at hand, but it’s hard not to notice how close you are, how vulnerable he seems.

“Sorry,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

He reaches out with his uninjured hand, gently tilting your chin up so you meet his eyes. “Y/N, it was an accident. I know you wouldn't mean to hurt me.”

You nod, feeling a bit more at ease with his reassurance. Carefully, you finish cleaning the wound and reach for the bandages. The Cloak, as if sensing your need, floats closer, offering the bandages to you from its folds.

As you wrap the bandage around his arm, you can’t help but ask, “Does it hurt a lot?”

“I’ve had worse. Much worse.”

You can’t help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. “Well, you’re lucky I didn’t turn you into a frog or something.”

Stephen laughs, the sound filling the small infirmary. “I think I'd rather handle a few cuts and bruises. But I appreciate the concern.”

“There. All done.” You finish wrapping the bandage and tie it off, your fingers lingering on his skin for a moment longer than necessary. 

Stephen flexes his arm slightly, testing the bandage, “Now I have a new scar to show off. Women dig scars, right?”

“Well, it certainly adds to your mystique.” You laugh, the sound a bit shaky but genuine. 

He chuckles, standing up and pulling you to your feet with his good arm, “Go get some rest and clear your mind. Don't wallow too much on this. Really, I'm fine.”

× × × × 

The days turn into weeks. You find yourself growing more confident in your abilities, but there are still moments where the fear and frustration overwhelm you. Stephen’s consistent support and guidance have been invaluable, and you've begun to see glimpses of what your powers could be if fully controlled. However, the road to mastery is far from smooth.

One afternoon, while practicing a particularly challenging spell, your powers spiral out of control. The room around you blurs as a surge of energy erupts from within, sending you flying across the room. You crash into a stone wall with a sickening thud, the impact knocking the wind out of you. Pain radiates from your shoulder as you realize it’s dislocated. Before you can even catch your breath, you hear a creaking sound above you and look up to see a massive pillar beginning to topple over.

Panic courses through you, but before you can react, a burst of golden light encases the pillar, stopping it mid-fall. You turn to see Stephen, his hands outstretched and eyes glowing with a focused intensity as he uses his magic to stabilize the structure.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice steady despite the obvious strain.

You nod, still dazed from the impact. “I... I think so,” you stammer, though the pain in your shoulder is excruciating.

He waves his hands, and the pillar rights itself, settling back into place with a groan of stone against stone. Only then does he turn his full attention to you, his expression softening as he kneels beside you.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he admits, “Let me see your shoulder.”

You wince as he gently examines it. “I think it’s dislocated,” you say through gritted teeth.

Stephen nods, his expression serious. “We need to fix this. It’s going to hurt, but I’ll make it as quick as possible.”

You brace yourself, biting your lip as he carefully but firmly maneuvers your shoulder back into place. A sharp, intense pain shoots through you, and you can’t help but cry out. But just as quickly as the pain flares, it begins to subside as Stephen’s magic soothes the injured area.

"Better?" he asks, his voice gentle.

You nod, tears of pain and relief streaming down your face. "Thank you," you whisper, leaning against him for support.

Stephen clenched his jaw when he suddenly felt his heart racing. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “You’re incredibly brave, you know that?”

You manage a small, shaky laugh. “I don’t feel very brave.”

He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression earnest. “You are. You’re facing your fears and pushing through the pain. That takes real courage.”

“I couldn’t do this without you, Stephen.” Tears well up in your eyes again, this time from gratitude and the overwhelming emotion of the moment, “Thank you.”

He smiles softly, brushing a tear from your cheek. “You’re not alone. We’ll get you there.”

After that grueling session, you collapse onto a sofa in the library, exhausted. It was worth every sweat though as you felt being more in control compared to when you first set foot in the Sanctum. 

“Here, this will help,” Stephen joins you, handing you a cup of tea and sitting down beside you.

You take a sip, the warmth of the tea soothing your frayed nerves. “Thanks,” you murmur, glancing at him. “For everything.”

He smiles, his gaze warm. “It’s my pleasure.”

A comfortable silence settles between you, the flickering firelight casting soft shadows around the room. The warmth from the fire is a stark contrast to the chill in the air outside, and you pull a blanket tighter around yourself as you sip the tea Stephen prepared. The aroma of the tea mingles with the scent of old books and the faint trace of incense, creating an atmosphere that feels both intimate and soothing.

You find yourself drawn to Stephen, not just because of his wisdom and strength, but because of the kindness and patience he shows you every day. His presence has become a source of comfort, a steady anchor in the tumultuous sea of your emotions and powers. Yet, as the days pass, you've also become acutely aware of the growing attraction you have for him. Maybe because you never knew about this side of Stephen.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, admiring the way the firelight dances across his features, casting shadows that highlight the sharp angles of his face. There's a certain grace to the way he moves, even in the simplest of actions like turning the pages of a book or adjusting his cloak. You wonder if he's aware of how often your eyes linger on him, how your heart races whenever he looks at you with those piercing blue eyes.

Stephen breaks the silence, his voice low and gentle. “You've been making remarkable progress. You should be proud of yourself.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I couldn't have done it without you,” you admit, your gaze meeting his. “You've been my rock through all of this.”

He chuckles softly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “I'm just doing what any decent teacher would do.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “It's more than that. You've been patient and understanding, even when I wanted to give up.”

Stephen's eyes soften, and he reaches out, placing a hand over yours. The touch is light, but it sends a jolt of electricity through you. 

“You have an incredible strength within you,” he says quietly. “Sometimes it just takes someone else to help you see it.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to look away. You can feel the tension building between you, a magnetic pull that draws you closer. The room feels smaller, the air charged with unspoken emotions.

"Stephen," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "I... I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done."

He smiles, a tender expression that makes your heart skip a beat. "You don't need to thank me," he replies. "Seeing you grow and gain confidence is thanks enough."

The fire crackles, filling the silence that stretches between you. You can feel your pulse quicken, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. You want to tell him how much he means to you, how his presence has become a source of light in your life. But the words stick in your throat, your nerves getting the better of you.

As if sensing your hesitation, Stephen moves closer, his hand still resting on yours. "It's okay," he murmurs. "You don't have to say anything."

You weren’t sure if you were hallucinating, but you felt him drawing closer to you, his breath heavy and hot. The space between you seemed to shrink with each passing second, your heart pounding louder in your ears. His eyes, intense and unwavering, locked onto yours, creating a magnetic pull that you couldn't resist.

Your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions—anticipation, fear, desire—all blending into a heady mix that left you breathless. His presence was overwhelming, his scent intoxicating, and you felt an inexplicable connection that seemed to transcend the physical space.

Stephen’s hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His touch was both gentle and commanding, grounding you in the moment. You could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, mirroring your own. Despite the chaos surrounding you, this moment felt strangely right.

He leaned in, his lips just inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the tension building, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this suspended moment of longing and vulnerability.

Just as his lips were about to meet yours, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room. You both jumped apart, hearts racing, as Wong entered, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Wong said, raising an eyebrow. “But there’s an urgent matter that requires your attention, Strange.”

Stephen cleared his throat, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. “Of course, Wong. I’ll be right there.”

Wong nodded, glancing between the two of you with a knowing smile before leaving the room.

You exchanged a look with Stephen, the moment between you lingering in the air. He gave you a small, apologetic smile. 

“We’ll continue this later,” he promised, his voice soft and filled with a mix of regret and hope.

You nodded, your heart still pounding. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As Stephen turned to follow Wong, you couldn’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The connection you felt with him was undeniable, and despite the interruption, you knew that this was just the beginning of something deeper and more profound.

The door closed behind Stephen and Wong, and the room was left in a charged silence. You could still feel the lingering warmth of his presence, the ghost of his touch on your skin. Your mind replayed the moment over and over, heart racing of anticipation.

You sighed and turned towards the window, trying to steady your breath as you watched the city lights twinkle below. The weight of what had just happened, what almost happened, settled over you like a warm blanket. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

A few moments later, you decided to distract yourself by focusing on your training. You knew Stephen would handle whatever urgent matter Wong had brought to his attention, but you needed to regain your composure. The Sanctum's library was quiet and filled with ancient texts and artifacts, a perfect place to lose yourself in study.

You selected a tome on elemental magic, hoping the intricate spells would keep your mind occupied. As you read, the words began to blur, your thoughts drifting back to Stephen. His intense gaze, the way his touch had sent shivers down your spine, and the unspoken promise in his eyes.

Suddenly, a soft knock on the door brought you back to reality. You looked up to see Stephen standing there, his expression a mix of determination and something else—something softer.

“Hey,” he said, stepping into the room. “Sorry about earlier. Wong has impeccable timing, as usual.”

You chuckled, setting the book aside. “It's okay. I understand. Is everything alright?”

He nodded, taking a seat beside you. “Yes, just some minor mystical disturbance. Nothing we couldn't handle.”

A comfortable silence settled between you again, but this time it was tinged with a palpable tension. You could feel the unresolved moment hanging in the air, drawing you closer together. Stephen reached out, taking your hand in his. His touch was warm, reassuring.

“I meant what I said,” he began softly, his eyes locking onto yours. “About continuing this later. I don't want to rush things, but I also don't want to ignore what's happening between us.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his words sending a rush of warmth through you. “I feel the same way, Stephen. It’s actually, kind of. . . really hard to ignore. . .”

Stephen stood and offered you his hand. “Come with me. There's something I want to show you.”

Curious, you took his hand and followed him through the winding corridors of the Sanctum. He led you to a secluded terrace, the city spread out below like a sea of stars. The cool night air was refreshing, and the view was breathtaking.

“This is my favorite spot,” he said, leaning against the railing. “It's where I come to think, to clear my mind.”

You joined him, the two of you standing side by side, looking out over the city. “It's beautiful,” you whispered.

He turned to you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. “You make it even more beautiful,” he said softly.

Before you can respond, he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. The world around you seems to vanish as his lips move against yours, firm yet tender, igniting a fire within you. You respond eagerly, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepens, growing more urgent and intense. Stephen's arms wrap around your waist, drawing you flush against him, his body warm and solid against yours. You can feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with the crackling energy of your powers, which glow softly around you both, bathing you in a crimson light.

His lips part slightly, and you take the opportunity to explore his mouth with your tongue, eliciting a low groan from him that sends a shiver down your spine. Stephen's hands roam your back, his touch firm and possessive, as if he never wants to let you go. Every touch, every movement sends waves of desire coursing through you.

You press closer, the feeling of his body against yours heightening your senses. His hand slides up to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you even deeper into the kiss. The intensity builds, and you feel as though you might melt from the heat of it all.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, Stephen's lips trail down your jawline, planting soft, lingering kisses along the way. You tilt your head back, giving him better access, and he takes full advantage, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just below your ear. His warm breath against your skin sends a thrill through you, and you can't help but moan softly

“Stephen,” you whisper, your voice breathless and filled with longing.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he gazes at you. “Y/N, I need you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion.

Without another word, you pull him back to you, your lips crashing together in a passionate kiss. You pour all your pent-up emotions into it, the fear, the longing, the love. When you kiss Stephen, the energy around you seems to respond to your emotions, wrapping around the two of you in a protective cocoon of light. His hands grip your waist, and you feel the familiar surge of your powers, the crimson The light shimmers and sparkles, creating a captivating dance of colors that is reflecting the intensity of your connection.

Breathless and flushed, you finally pull away, resting your forehead against his. His eyes, dark and filled with emotion, hold your gaze, and you see your reflection in them, your powers glowing softly around you both.

“I'm so happy you came to me,” Stephen whispers, his voice low and sincere, “And now that I have you, I never want to let you go.”

You smile, feeling a warm sense of certainty. “You don't have to, l'm yours.”

He kisses you again, this time with a gentleness that speaks volumes. It's a promise of unwavering support and love. The crimson energy around you pulses gently, a testament to your newfound control and the harmony between your powers and your emotions.

As you stand there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, you realize that this is just the beginning. With Stephen’s guidance and your own growing confidence, you’re ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. 

The night air is cool, but the warmth between you keeps the chill at bay. You lean into Stephen, your heart steady and sure. With him by your side, you know you can handle anything the future holds.

Stephen pulls back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know,” he says with a smirk, “if you wanted to spend more time together, you could have just asked instead of throwing books around.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, so now my out-of-control powers are just an excuse to see you more?”

He raises an eyebrow, still smirking. “I wouldn't put it past you.”

“Well, maybe next time I'll aim for the kitchen. Then at least we can have snacks while we train.” You roll your eyes playfully. 

Stephen chuckles, pulling you closer. “Deal. But only if you promise to keep the chaos to a minimum.”

“I'll try,” you say, grinning. “But no promises.”

He smiles, his eyes softening. “That's good enough for me.”

Together, you step back into the Sanctum, ready to embrace the future and the challenges it brings, knowing that with each other, you are unstoppable. 

As you walk through the grand halls, Stephen's hand remains firmly in yours, a silent promise of support and partnership.

“So,” Stephen begins, glancing sideways at you with a sly smile, “what's the next item on our agenda? More power control exercises or should we finally tackle the mystery of the enchanted teapot?”

You laugh, the sound echoing softly in the spacious hallway. “I think the teapot can wait. Besides, I’m pretty sure it's been spying on us for weeks.”

“That would explain a lot. It's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for.” Stephen chuckles.

You squeeze his hand, feeling a sense of normalcy and contentment that you haven’t felt in a long time. “You know, this whole training thing isn’t so bad when you have good company.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Good company, huh? I suppose I should take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Doctor,” you tease, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “But seriously, thank you. For everything.”

Stephen stops walking and turns to face you, his expression sincere. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad I could help. You’ve shown incredible strength and courage, Y/N. And I’m honored to be part of your journey.”

A warmth spreads through you at his words, and you lean in to kiss him softly. “Well, you’re stuck with me now, Sorcerer Supreme. Hope you’re ready for that.”

He grins, a boyish charm lighting up his features. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[theyungihven]

The Demon's Infatuation • Sex Demon Yunho

CHAPTER 1

↬ pairing: dom demon yunho x sub female reader

↬ genre: smut, romance

↬ warnings: breeding kink, cream pie, pain kink, unprotected sex, hip bruises, biting kink, slut-shaming, choking kink, hard core dom yunho, yunho is OBSSESSED,

↬ word count: 1.2K+

↬ author’s note: this full novel length fic is a dedication to my boyfriend alex and the demon that visited me at night two years ago every full moon night

Summary :

It might sound crazy to say that I've become a demon's infatuation and you might ask me, 'how did you even end up in this place?' Well well, even I don't know how it happened and whenever I ask him or confront him about our first meeting, he avoids the topic by sensually kissing me and making me forget about the question with an orgasm. I can't leave him because I can't live without him either. He is as if an intoxication I cannot get out of my body and desperately need in order to stay sane. He says, 'no one will love you like I do, darling' but how do I tell him that no one has ever loved me and no one ever can because my soul belongs to him, so does my heart and they worship him day and night.

She's just an innocent heartbroken girl who just wants to be loved for once despite her flaws and imperfections and he's a wicked demon who wants nothing but to corrupt her soul to till all she can think of him. What can go wrong if he takes a little interest in her? Heaven along with Hell are not going to collide with the Earth, or will they?

What could exactly go wrong if I sit alone under the full moon at midnight?

What could exactly go wrong if I sit alone under the full moon at midnight? Nothing. So I don't give it a second thought and make myself comfortable in the chair placed out in the balcony, bathing in the moonlight. The faint melody of my favourite song plays in the background through my phone as it echoes through the balcony.

The balcony is my only safe space these days. It provides me comfort and solace when I desire it the most, in moments of utter hopelessness. It sports a pretty popular viewing and gossiping spot for my family on the first floor as it opens up towards the roadside. It also serves as a common concrete stairway to the rooftop.

The moon attempts to brighten up my gloomy mood as I dwell into my sadness. The cool breeze, which is as light as a feather, ruffles the tall green trees lining the streets and also caresses my cheek. It reminds me that I haven't been completely abandoned by this world and also that there are still some forces which appreciate my existence. 

Now, I cannot hope but wish that someone touched me in a similar manner. I wish someone held me like a mother holds her dear child, like a lover holds his significant other, like a child holds onto his dying pet. 

However, no matter how much I try to forget the incident that happened this afternoon, I can't seem to get it out of my head. I cannot get that picture of the people I once considered to be my friends, mocking me for liking a guy. I cannot forget the words they called me just for daring to like the most popular guy of my grade. 

They make me feel as if having a romantic interest in a boy or just simply liking someone is the biggest sin one could commit on the Earth.

My body shakes as the turbulent storm inside me rises to the surface and brews a great tsunami. It drenches my cheeks and my face as it brings destruction and mayhem along with it in the face of a heart-wrenching pain in my chest, hopelessness and a wave of absolute sadness which hits me like a speeding truck. Somehow, the hopelessness inspires me and convinces my mind to beg whoever deity is willing to listen to me. 

So, I do. 

“To whoever is listening,” I manage to say despite the water rising in my chest as it tries to suffocate me by drowning me in the lake of sadness but I need to beg the deity. So, I continue with my remaining energy, “I want a guy, who will love me for who I  am, despite my flaws and imperfections.” 

The dam breaks as the sea of sadness drowns me in it and finds an outlet through my eyes and the salty water flows along with my last words, “I don’t care about how he looks, or even if he’s a human!” At the end of the sentence, I end up on my knees, upon the cold white marble of the moonlit balcony, as the still water gushes out of my eyes and my body trembles like a tree against strong winds. 

An eerie silence follows, as I recover from the tsunami’s devastating damage but it isn’t long when I hear a deep chuckle, which is so crisp and clear as if the person is sitting right beside me. I look up and around to identify the potential maker of the noise, but end up meeting with disappointment when I fail to do so, but it doesn’t fail in sending a chill down my spine and my body on high alert. 

“Hello? Anyone here?” I say, but come to regret the decision of doing so in the next second when a shadow appears out of nowhere, sitting on the stairs leading to the rooftop. It leans back, placing its hand on the step as its lips curve up in a creepy smile. 

Its eyes glow a bright red and just one look at them is enough to send chills down my spine. When my body registers its glowing red eyes and black shadowy figure, its first instinct is to recite holy verses. I do as my mother taught me to wherever I encounter the child of the banished angel. However, I fail to pronounce them properly, as my tongue fails at cooperating with my mind and my body screams RUN. 

I do. I run, for my dear life.

I run inside as my fight or flight system takes over with the adrenaline coursing through my veins, at the highest concentration ever in my life. My poor heart tries to keep up with all the sudden increase in cardiac output, but the picture of his creepy smile still lingers in my mind,   as if imprinted onto my neurons. 

The first thing my itsy bitsy brain thinks of as a distraction is the radio my grandfather made for me. I turn it on, tuning the dial to search for stations while expecting some soothing tunes to play and it does. I breathe a sigh of relief when the radio plays Sparks by Coldplay, my all time favourite.

However my peace evaporates into thin air when the radio goes off tune and randomly switches channels only to land upon the frequency 66.60.

An eerie voice follows, which says, “you cannot run away from me, kitten.” 

I don’t even dare to touch the radio and follow my instincts this time. I run downstairs to my family who look at me as if they saw the stars when the sun rules the skies. I am breathless as I stand in front of my mother, who looks at me in surprise while I struggle to form sentences in my head as I sweat ridiculously.

“You look like you saw a ghost.”

“A cat.”

“Yeah, yeah, a shapeshifting cat.”

“As if anything of such kind exists in this world.”

“Dumb humans”

TAGLIST

@yunhogrippers @strbryjoonie @haram-monbebe @atinism @yvnhoos @st4rhwa @lomons

[earthlybeam]

You Slapping their Butt and Calling them “Dummy Thick” in Front of Everyone:

how would the elves react to this?

↓

↓

↓

Gil-galad, círdan, haldir version’s are below.

👑𝓖𝓲𝓵-𝓰𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓭

🜲 The throne room of Lindon, a place of quiet majesty and solemnity, would come to a screeching halt as the unmistakable sound of your audacious slap echoed off the high, vaulted ceilings. All movement ceased. Courtiers, advisors, warriors—everyone froze mid-breath, their eyes widening in unison. Gil-galad, renowned for his calm demeanor and unshakeable poise, stood utterly still for a heartbeat that seemed to stretch for centuries.

🜲 Slowly, his head turned, his piercing grey eyes locking onto yours. His expression was the very picture of measured restraint: a slight raise of the brow, the faintest twitch of his lips as if fighting back an incredulous smile, and the telltale tightening of his jaw betraying his effort to maintain decorum. The silence grew heavier by the second, until finally, he spoke, his voice calm yet laced with an unmistakable edge of authority

🜲 “Mellon… I see you are feeling particularly brave today.” His tone was light, but there was an undercurrent of amused exasperation. As murmurs of suppressed laughter rippled through the room, Gil-galad raised a single hand, silencing the gathering with ease. “You are dismissed,” he commanded, his voice calm yet brooking no argument. The room cleared in record time, though not without a few daring elves sneaking curious glances back at their king.

🜲 Once alone, the weight of his royal composure softened. He took a single, measured step toward you, his regal stature towering but not menacing. A smirk now played at the corners of his mouth, though his tone remained deliberately even. “‘Dummy thick,’ was it? I must admit, I’ve been called many things in my time, but this… This is new.”

🜲 His eyes gleamed with restrained laughter as he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “Tell me, Mellon, do you often seek to test my legendary composure? Or is this simply your way of declaring undying affection?”

🜲 Despite his composed exterior, there was a rare warmth in his gaze, a flicker of genuine amusement and curiosity. Gil-galad was not easily ruffled, and while your audacious act may have startled him, it also delighted him in a way he’d never admit to anyone but you.

🜲 Finally, he stepped back, clasping his hands behind his back in a show of regal control. “You are fortunate that I am quite fond of you, or I might have to remind you of the importance of decorum. But be warned, my moonlight—if you insist on testing my patience again, I may have to respond in kind. And I assure you,” his smirk widened, “my reprisal will be far more creative.”

🜲 Later, when the court had long since forgotten the incident, you’d catch him staring at you with a twinkle in his eye, muttering something under his breath about audacious mortals and their baffling courage. And though he’d never admit it, a small part of him couldn’t help but be impressed by your nerve. After all, it wasn’t every day someone dared to treat the High King of the Noldor with such… familiarity.

🌊 𝓬í𝓻𝓭𝓪𝓷

𓇼 Círdan, the Shipwright of unparalleled wisdom and quiet authority, would respond to your audacious act with a remarkable blend of composure and restrained emotion. The Grey Havens, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, was filled with the gentle murmur of waves and the soft bustle of Elves tending to ships. Amid this tranquil scene, your hand landed firmly on Círdan’s backside, followed by the unmistakable words, “Dummy thick.”

𓇼 A profound silence swept across the gathered Elves. Tools were dropped. Conversations faltered. Even the seagulls seemed to pause mid-flight. Círdan himself stood utterly still, his weathered yet noble face remaining calm, though the faintest quirk of an eyebrow betrayed his surprise. Slowly, he turned to look at you, his deep, sea-gray eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief, patient reproach, and perhaps the faintest flicker of amusement.

𓇼 “Dummy thick,” he repeated, his voice quiet yet impossibly firm, as though testing the phrase on his tongue. He regarded you with the gravitas of one who had witnessed ages of folly and bravery alike. “You have chosen a peculiar way to express yourself.”

𓇼 The surrounding Elves, knowing Círdan’s temper was as deep and still as the ocean, seemed torn between horror and barely concealed mirth. One or two may have quickly excused themselves to avoid being caught laughing, while others simply looked on in stunned silence. After a long pause, Círdan sighed softly and dismissed the onlookers with a calm but authoritative wave of his hand. “Leave us,” he said. His voice carried no anger, only a quiet insistence that brooked no refusal.

𓇼 Once the two of you were alone, he crossed his arms and regarded you with a bemused expression, the faintest twitch of his lips suggesting that he was, against all reason, suppressing a smile. “Your boldness is… unparalleled,” he said, his tone as smooth and measured as the tides. “But I would advise against such actions in public. While I may find it within myself to forgive, I cannot say the same for my dignity—or the composure of my kin.”

𓇼 He took a step closer, his ancient, commanding presence both comforting and intimidating. “Now,” he said, voice low and touched with subtle warmth, “tell me truly. What possessed you to do such a thing?” The corner of his mouth curved upward, ever so slightly, as he awaited your answer—a rare and fleeting glimpse of the humor hidden within the wise and gentle mariner.

𓇼 Círdan would never be truly angry. His wisdom and patience far exceeded the momentary shock, but he would ensure you understood the weight of your audacity. Later, as he stood at the prow of his latest ship, gazing into the horizon, he might allow himself a quiet chuckle at the memory, though he would never admit it aloud.

🏹𝓗𝓪𝓵𝓭𝓲𝓻

➳ The Marchwarden of Lothlórien is a paragon of discipline, vigilance, and decorum. However, when your hand met his backside with a loud slap and you followed it up with, “Dummy thick,” in the presence of his comrades on patrol, every bit of his composure would be tested.

➳ His first reaction would be stillness. Absolute, rigid, unblinking stillness. The elves standing nearby, ever-observant and quick to react to disturbances, would also freeze in confusion, their sharp gazes darting between you and their esteemed leader.

➳ Haldir would slowly turn his head to look at you, his expression a tightly controlled mask that barely concealed the storm brewing beneath. His pale brows would furrow, and the tips of his ears might even turn slightly red—a rare crack in his otherwise stoic demeanor.

➳ “Mellon nín,” he would say in a tone low and measured, though anyone who knew him well would detect the faintest edge of exasperation, “I believe there are better ways to express your admiration… and perhaps a more appropriate setting.”

➳ Despite the calmness of his words, you’d notice his jaw clenching as he struggled to maintain his composure. Haldir is nothing if not dignified, and the sheer impropriety of your act would leave him inwardly flustered, though he’d refuse to show it. His brothers, Rúmil and Orophin, stationed nearby, would absolutely lose it. Their laughter would echo through the trees, breaking the awkward silence and further deepening Haldir’s embarrassment.

➳ Once the patrol resumed or the area cleared, Haldir would pull you aside into a more private corner of the forest. His sharp gaze would soften, though his expression would remain stern.

➳ “Do you understand what you’ve done?” he’d ask, his tone a mixture of reprimand and reluctant amusement. “Not only did you compromise my dignity, but you have now given Rúmil endless fodder for his teasing.” He’d sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before stepping closer to you. Despite his initial frustration, Haldir could never stay truly angry with you. The corners of his lips might even quirk up slightly as he added, “Dummy thick, hm? I did not realize you had such… unique descriptions in Westron. I shall assume this is a compliment?”

➳ Afterward, he’d likely adopt a more teasing demeanor when the two of you were alone. Though his public persona is dignified and serious, Haldir is not without a sense of humor. He’d use this incident to his advantage, dropping subtle, dry remarks like, “Shall I ensure my armor is properly fitted to avoid further distractions?”

➳ Brother of haldir, Rúmil and Orophin Absolutely delighted. They’d never let Haldir live this down and would bring it up in the most inconvenient moments. The Other Guards Torn between shock and stifled laughter. No one dares to comment outright, but you’d catch the occasional sidelong glance and suppressed smirk. Galadriel (if she hears of it): An amused, knowing smile. “Haldir, it seems your patrols have become… eventful.” Celeborn Mildly perplexed but ultimately nonchalant. “At least they seem to enjoy one another’s company.”

[igotlovestruck]

LOW, LOW, LOWKEY

— relationship reveal/private but not secret relationship with clement novalak, dennis hauger, felipe drugovich, marcus armstrong & pato o’ward

a/n: again, like baby reveal 📸 ig au under this post will have their own stories (which i don’t know when will be posted lol) thought of its theme after i posted baby reveal and now here it is! it took me awhile cuz... uni 💀 anyway, enjoy!

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © newuniverse, 2023.

clementnovalak

liked by marcusarmstrong, screamingmeals, yourusername and others

clementnovalak i am a wine and dine type of guy 😉 (stay tuned for the next episode of clem’s wine corner!)

view all 175 comments

marcusarmstrong are you really? 🤨

jamesharveyblair lookin’ dapper, mate!

yourusername 🥰🫶

fan1 THSI IS CRAZY 📸

fan2 his girlfriend FINALLY liking and commenting on his account???

fan3 war (that ep of sm where clem whined bc his gf doesnt like/comment on his posts often) IS OVEEEERRRR

dennis_hauger

liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc, yourusername and others

dennies_hauger my gym buddy 💪🫶

view all 127 comments

yourbffsusername is that who i think it is? 🤭

dennis_hauger 🤫🤫

yourusername 🍑🍑🍑

fan1 BABES GET UR ASS UP ,, DENNIS HARD LAUNCHING!! fan2

felipedrugovich

liked by clementnovalak, marcusarmstrong, yourusername and others

felipedrugovich quem é o motorista muito melhor? [who’s the much better driver?

view all 186 comments

yourusername you may be an f2 champion, but let’s agree that i drive better than you 😋

felipedrugovich let’s just agree to disagree

fan1 i wake up fine today and see that felipe’s revealed his girlfriend... i will be taking a bath with my toaster today, thank you very much

fan2 what a good day to sleep on the highway

fan3 the replies 💀

marcusarmstrong

liked by clementnovalak, jamesharveyblair, yourusername and others

marcusarmstrong a friendly reminder to drink water. also, note to self, bring enough water on the next ride because my girl won’t share hers!

view all 129 comments

clementnovalak your fault for not bringing enough water

yourusername THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING

marcusarmstrong stop ganging up on me 😒

fan1 all this time marcus has a girlfriend and not any of u fake ass bitches told me 😤 fan2 fan3

fan2 I SWEAR I THOUGHT MY INSTINCTS WERE WRONG

fan3 i thought u already knew 😭 they’re cute though, private but not a secret type of relationship 😭

patriciooward

liked by rockyoward, arrowmclarensp, yourusername and others

patriciooward pato y y/n en el agua 🌊 [pato and y/n in the water 🌊]

view all 120 comments

elbaoward enjoy you lovebirds! 🫶

yourusername should’ve let me drive the jetski when you had the chance 😒

patriciooward there’s always a next time! 😂

fan1 elba calls them lovebirds 🥹 after months of pato just smiling every time someone asks if he’s dating someone

fan2 god when will it be my turn

[faellain]

The Accidental Baby Trap Incident

Summary: About four years after the events of First Class, Erik arrives at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters with two little twins who he didn't know existed. Thinking he doesn't know what to do, he runs to Charles, not knowing the state his old friend is in.

Snippet 6

[prev] [next]

charles sighs as they wheel down the long walkway to the machine itself. the completed room is gorgeous, all metal panels with projectors ready to show the tour de force of charles xavier's telepathy. dust coated everything in the room.

"these are muscles i haven't stretched in some time," charles says somberly, picking up the helmet. gently, he blew the dust off. for a moment, his lips looked their correct shade, that brillaint natural almost-red. once, erik had insuated that charles' lips were a physical result of his mutation. that had made charles' laugh, wondering what telepathy would have to do with his lips.

raven had raised an eyebrow and replied, "why did my skin have to blue for me to shapeshift?"

charles settles the helmet onto his head. hank preps the machine, warning them before he turns it on. as it comes back to life, charles grimaces. erik quickly puts a hand to his shoulder, squeezing it trying to center him as the room is bathed in red and white. they had considered this- color coding the humans and mutants. his breath is caught in the beauty of it all as he watches charles try to locate sean, try to zoom into vietnam.

instead, the room starts spinning, charles unable to control the though. pained yells scrape their way out of his throat. all erik can do is move to hold both his shoulders, coming around the front. charles' shoulders shake beneath his palms.

"hank, turned the damn thing off!" he snaps.

just as hank comes alive, trying to do so, the power shorts out, plunging the room into darkness. charles all but throws the helmet to the ground, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. he's not well; erik doesn't need to be a telepath to know that.

"i-i'll go check the generators," hank murmurs before dashing off to do so.

charles runs his hands over his face, "this was a mistake."

"you said yourself you're out of practice," erik reminds him, "it wasn't cerebro that did that."

charles looks at him ruefully, tired and bitter. his hands shake again as he touches his forehead, "my power comes from here. from," his hand moves to his chest, but he abadons the words. a dispodant death resides in his tone as he sighs, "it's broken. i feel like one of my student's. helpless…"

erik moves to cup his cheek, thumbing at the skin there, letting his fingers trace over the scruffy beard. he finds he still truly hates it. perhaps it's the lack of familiarity to the clean-shaven scholar he had known when all this began.

"you're not," he says, "you've become scared of yourself. i know you. you can do this."

"it's too much," charles tries not to wheeze, still catching his breath, "we need to call your telepath."

"you are my telepath," erik replies, "emma is terrifying when she wants to be, but she is not you."

charles laughs bitterly, leaning back in his chair, "then she's good enough to work cerebro while i can't. i'm not jealous for heaven's sake. i just- i can't do this anymore. there's too much pain."

erik frowns. he knew that charles could know anyone's pain just by touching their mind. their history was an open book to him. he'd known erik's pain, his hurt. but he'd also brought back some of erik's happiness as well.

"let me take some," he offers, "you know my pain. let me have yours."

charles shakes his head, "no. god, no. you have enough pain-"

erik leans down and kisses charles' cheek, slowly, presses his nose against the side of charles' head, "which is why you know i can handle your's. give me your pain, charles. stop bearing it alone."

there is some hesitation, but charles opens his mind to him. everything is on his terms. that is the trouble with only one of them being telepathic. erik must trust that what charles is showing him is not just the truth, but that he withholds few things. but trusting charles has always been easy. no one else ever broke through his barriers. no one else could ever love him him.

and that is why the pain hurt so much.

erik knew there had been a stepfamily in charles and raven's lives, but he did not know they were cruel. their mother, already inattentive, started drinking. kurt marko was cruel. for all the house's beauty, each room had its own reminder of strikes against charles' tender skin who was but a child- a child. bruises should not litter a child's body. screams should not reach a child's ears.

he'd mocked this place, this temple to charles' forgone youth, this church of suffering. yet, charles continued to live here. when he had first started accepting students he wanted to fill it with enough good memories to wash away the bad. now, there were more bad filling up the empty air. charles was suffocating.

a few tears pass by erik's cheeks as charles pulls the memories away. he is crying too, far more than erik is, but it is a silent endeavor. erik kisses charles' cheek again, then his lips.

"i'm here," he whispers, "they're gone."

"i know," charles says, his voice waivering.

erik peppers kisses into charles' hair, "we will fill this place with good memories. you, myself, our children. students and teachers."

charles moves and cups erik's cheeks, "that's a nice thought. really. it is. but you have your world and i mine."

i will start with this school, erik kneels before charles' chair, presses his hands over charles' as though pledging feality to a lord, and then i will make a place for mutants to be safe. a utopia for mutants alone should your humans prove lack luster.

charles blinks away tears, "but erik-"

"i want you at my side," erik tells him, "i want you to hope again. i will build a world you will love brick by brick. with dirt beneath my fingers. with blood and sweat. if you can forgive me, i will give you everything."

as erik cups charles' cheeks, cerebro's lights flicker back on. they both smile and charles nods, letting his cheek lean and rest into one of erik's large hands. hank is on his way back up he can sense it.

"we'll talk more later," charles whispers, pecks erik's lips chastely.

it's not 'i love you'. perhaps, it is not the answer that erik wants to hear, but it's what charles can muster. he can still feel erik holding him, can feel erik screaming his thoughts as a plea to get charles not to plunge another needle into his arm. he'd forgotten how lovely it was to have another mind dance with his.

they have a second chance. maybe this time, things will go right.

hank's footsteps echo as he jogs along the path to the center console, "power's back. do you want to wait?"

"no," charlies replies calmly, "let's try once more."

the second time putting on cerebro still hurts as he forces himself to tune out things that are unnecessary. still, this time, he is successfully. sean is at some sort of facility in vietnam. most likely he'd be moved to a secret base where they might lose him forever. but for now, he was safe behind what should have been friendly lines.

"i've got him," charles says, then frowns, "and what seems to be a handful of other mutants but they're muted. something is blocking them."

erik shakes his shoulder, "i knew it. we have to save them. janos might be among them. "

hank mouths, janos?, to himself but with erik in his mind and he in erik's charles knows riptide's name now.

they deliver the news to raven who is visibly relieved to have some idea of where sean is. erik sits by a window as everyone talks, watching pietro and wanda play with the tire swing. a small smile crosses his face. still, he can feel charles' eyes watching him.

to no surprise when he turns, charles is smiling at him, lips quirked up playfully. fondness is sewn into the lines around his mouth. erik rolls his eyes at charles with exagerattion before turning his gaze back toward his children, cringing as pietro jumps from a tree branch, only avoiding a fall by wanda using her powers to make the ground become a hill to catch him.

"erik!" raven snaps. he looks at her and her raised eyebrows, eyes flashing like amber, "care to join us?"

"i'm listening," he assures, "we need to take the blackbird to vietnam. i'll have to call azazel- if janos is there, he'll want to be part of the rescue."

"he's the teleporter right?" asks hank, "because he seemed so nice when he was dropping fbi agents from the sky."

"azazel is twice the man those government hacks were," sniffs raven. erik smiles at her. both of them have come to deeply care for their russian brotherhood member. he grew up mistaken for a devil, hidden away from the world. he and raven had bonded over that. erik cared for his blunt candor.

"it will be better to have him," charles says, "and emma frost. i would just slow you all down."

"no, you wouldn't," erik argues, "your powers-"

"are still coming back," charles reminds him, voice soft. a gently hand seems to caress erik's stormy thoughts, "and someone needs to be here to watch the kids."

"we should ask angel to stay here," raven adds, "just in case. that way it's not just charles and the twins."

erik hadn't thought about that. missions had hardly crossed his mind when he ran here, but he should have considered it an eventuality. at some point, his kids would have to understand their father had work to do like any other. his was just more dangerous.

"you trust her to stay?" asks hank, skeptically. erik considers punching him, but charles reaches over and physically grabs his wrist.

i wasn't going to do it.

he's still hurt.

raven narrows her eyes, "do you trust me?"

"of course," hank replies, trying not to sound sheepish.

"then you can trust her," she ends the conversation there, standing, "i'm going to call the safehouse. hopefully, at least one of them is there."

erik turned his eyes back toward his kids once more. soon, his mysterious disapperance was going to be revealed. he could practically hear azazel calling him an old dog. charles' fingers threaded with his own, both of them coming to look out the window.

we should talk before you go, charles says, though his eyes train on wanda, trying to undo the small flat-topped hill she's made.

you know my feelings, erik reminds him.

charles shakes his head, we need discuss the school. your brotherhood. how that coexists.

it will coexist if i say it coexists, erik tries not to wrinkle his nose in disgust. instead, he feels the emptiness of charles's hand leaving his.

"stubborn as always," charles replies, though that fondness is still there. he takes his hands and rolls his chair back, "maybe you should speak to your brotherhood before me then."

"but charles-"

i'm tired, charles tells him, i'm going to rest before all the excitment starts. i think you'd better help your kids.

there is affection there, but erik is not a telepath. he can't tell if charles is shielding truer feelings from him. the realization leaves no small amount of frustration bubbling in his chest. nothing mattered but the promise erik had made to him. he would build a world charles could love.

his eyes moved from wanda to hank, thought of raven finally walking around her childhood home in her true skin. he thought of azazel who could not hide in plain sight. they deserved a world they could love too.

[mimisempai]

A new step

Summary

After an unfortunate incident, Aziraphale finds himself covered in paint, and despite Crowley's miracle, the angel still feels dirty.

But, when Crowley suggests a bath, Aziraphale doesn't expect this to be a new step in their relationship.

Notes

Our angel and our demon experiment a little more with intimacy (Still non-sexual and will remain so)

On Ao3

Rating T -  1795 words

Aziraphale turned to Crowley before opening the shop door and said, "I'm going to check on the progress of the renovations.

Crowley replied, "Remind me again why we can't work a small miracle to renovate the shop front and put up with this inconvenience?"

Aziraphale sighed and replied, "Because, for the tenth time, we've been getting a lot of attention lately, and people will know right away if the front of the bookshop is renovated overnight."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it."

Aziraphale smiled indulgently and went through the door.

"Watch out for the scaffold-..."

Too late.

Aziraphale didn't have time to take a step aside before he found himself almost completely covered in wine-red paint.

"Angel?"

Crowley came in at a fast pace and, seeing the extent of the damage, couldn't help but gasp, "Well, you don't do things by halves."

Aziraphale began to get upset and said in a high voice, "Help me get in, it's horrible all this red paint on my clothes. Crowley! Stop laughing! It's not funny!"

Crowley closed the door behind the Angel and said with a smile on his face, "Sorry, Angel, but I was thinking about what you said before, about not being noticed! I didn't think you meant blending in so much."

Aziraphale pointed a finger at him, "You, you little..."

He stopped mid-sentence as Crowley repeated the miracle of that day at Tadfield Manor. In one breath he had just made all the paint disappear.

"Oh..." the angel said, suddenly calm, "Thank you, my dear."

"You're welcome, Angel... hm, what is it?" 

He had noticed that Aziraphale had just made a face.

The angel asked, looking a little embarrassed, "Do you think you could do it again, I feel like I've still got some in my hair."

Crowley frowned, then circled him before examining his hair carefully. He said gently, "There's nothing left at all, angel, you're all clean."

Aziraphale replied, "Still, I feel like I've got paint on me."

It was Crowley's turn to look embarrassed as he said quietly, "How about a bath?"

Aziraphale frowned and replied, "It's true, there's a bathtub up there that I never use, hmm, maybe you're right, I could try taking a bath," then he looked at the demon more closely, "But why do you look embarrassed telling me that?"

Crowley replied, his cheeks blushing slightly, "Because I was thinking of helping you..."

Aziraphale also began to blush slightly and replied in an equally embarrassed tone, "Ah... er... yes, I... all right."

"'All right'?"

"Why, don't you want to?"

"Idiot, I offered, didn't I?"

They both started to chuckle and Aziraphale replied, "Look at us, looking embarrassed like a couple of idiots."

Crowley took his hand and said gently, "Well, it's a new level of intimacy that we haven't experienced before, so it's only natural that we're a little embarrassed. But if you agree, I'll help you as much as I can. We both know our limits and how to express them. So you have the last word."

Aziraphale lifted the demon's hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly before replying, "I'd like to, actually. But..." he paused, clearly flustered.

Crowley stroked his cheek and asked softly, "What is it, Angel?"

Aziraphale bit his lip and lowered his eyes before replying, "I have to get completely undressed... and..."

Crowley made him look up and said quietly, "That's better indeed, but I'm going to suggest something to make the situation easier. I'll prepare the bath, you put on something more comfortable, and when the bath is ready, I'll let you undress and get into the water, and I won't come back until you're ready. So what do you think? Do you think it'll be easier this way?"

The angel leaned his cheek into the demon's hand and nodded, "Yes, I think so."

Crowley leaned down, gave the angel a tender kiss on the forehead and headed for the stairs.

Aziraphale followed closely, feeling a mixture of apprehension and anticipation at the thought of what was about to happen.

Once in the bedroom, he heard Crowley humming in the bathroom and his apprehension eased slightly.

A few moments later, dressed only in a bathrobe, he stood in the doorway of the bathroom and saw Crowley sitting on the edge of the tub, checking the temperature of the water.

Then he recognised the sweet scent entering his nostrils and said softly, "Bergamot, orange blossom, lemon... that's the fragrance of my cologne."

Crowley turned to him, "Absolutely Angel, I thought it would help you ease into it," he stepped closer and continued, "The water is at the right temperature I think. So I'll leave you to it and wait for you to call me when you..."

"Stay."

Crowley, not sure he had heard correctly, asked, "What did you say?

Aziraphale said in a voice he tried to keep firm despite his apprehension, "I want you to stay."

Crowley asked, watching him closely, "Are you sure? You're not doing this because you think I want you to, are you?"

"I'm absolutely sure."

Crowley stepped back and leaned against the sink, saying softly, "Anytime, angel. At your own pace.

Aziraphale nodded and placed his hands on the knot that held the sides of the robe together. As he untied the first loop, he saw his hands trembling slightly and suddenly Crowley's hands were on his as the demon asked him in an incredibly kind voice, "Do you want me to do it for you?"

Aziraphale swallowed and nodded.

Crowley gently moved the angel's hands away and untied the knot, dropping each end as he finished.

The robe opened slightly over Aziraphale's naked body and Crowley placed his hands on the angel's shoulders. Then, his eyes in his, he pushed off the robe, letting it fall gently in folds around the angel's feet.

His gaze travelled up and down Aziraphale's body before he told him in a voice that conveyed his genuine awe, "You are so beautiful, Angel.”

As always when Crowley complimented him, especially on his appearance, Aziraphale was overcome with emotion, and this time it was so intense that he couldn't stop a tear from escaping his eyes.

Crowley caught it with a kiss on the cheek, preventing it from rolling away, then took the Angel's hand and led him to the bathtub, helping him get in and sit down.

He then removed his jacket and tie before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow, fully aware of Aziraphale's gaze following him.

Then he pulled out a small stool, placed it at the end of the tub where Aziraphale's head rested, and sat down on it.

He pressed a kiss to the angel's temple and asked quietly, " Are you still all right, angel?"

Aziraphale replied softly, "More than all right, my dear."

Crowley hummed, then pushed the angel forward a little so that his head didn't protrude from the tub, and grabbed a sponge he'd placed beside him, soaking it in the water before pressing it over the angel's head, wetting his light hair, which curled even more once it was wet. He repeated the gesture several times, then put the sponge down, picked up the bottle of shampoo and took a squeeze. 

He rubbed his hands together to spread the shampoo, then placed his hands on the angel's hair and began to massage gently, burying his fingers in the wet curls.

He smiled as Aziraphale let out a small sigh of contentment and leaned back into his hands.

The angel said softly, "Crowley, my dear, this is absolutely divine."

The demon chuckled softly at the words and continued the massage, running his fingers over the angel's hair.

After a few moments he said softly, "Angel, tilt your head back a little, I'm going to rinse you off."

The angel obeyed and Crowley rinsed his hands in the bath water before taking up the sponge again, soaking it and wringing it out over the angel's head. He continued until the angel's hair was free of shampoo and just as he was about to withdraw his hand, Aziraphale held it back and asked quietly, "Crowley?"

"Yes, Angel?"

"Won't you come with me?"

Crowley froze for a moment before asking, "I would love to, Angel, but, I have to ask, are you sure?"

Aziraphale turned his head towards him and Crowley saw from the determined look in his eyes and the smile on his face that he meant it when he nodded.

Crowley kissed his smile before standing and beginning to undress. He quickly removed the rest of his clothes and stepped into the bath, intending to sit on the opposite side, but Aziraphale shook his head and opened his arms. This time Crowley didn't ask if he was sure and sat down between the angel's legs, pressing his back against his chest as Aziraphale's arms wrapped around him. 

He hummed contentedly, basking in the warmth of the water and the softness of the angel's embrace and body against his.

Aziraphale whispered into his ear, "I love this."

"What, Angel?"

"You and me, like this."

Crowley leaned his head against the angel's and replied softly, " I do too, Angel."

Aziraphale gave him a soft kiss on the underside of his ear and they stayed in this embrace for a long time, first in silence, then discussing anything and everything, warming the water from time to time.

Then, with a playful expression on his face, Aziraphale said, "I realise something is missing.

He made a small gesture with his hand and a yellow rubber duck appeared in front of Crowley. The angel added, "Seems appropriate for you, doesn't it?"

The demon chuckled and tapped the water to make the duck move before saying, "Angel, there's a problem, it's all alone, poor thing."

Crowley waved his hand and a second rubber duck appeared. This one had a small tartan bow, while the other now had a pair of sunglasses on its beak.

Crowley felt Aziraphale's chest tremble as he began to laugh and, of course, it wasn't long before he joined in.

When the laughter died down, Aziraphale asked quietly, "Did you ever imagine that one day we would have this?"

"What? Rubber ducks?" 

Aziraphale poked him in the stomach and replied, "Idiot! No, I mean this, you and me like this, most naturally."

Crowley grabbed the angel's hand and kissed it before saying, "Imagine it, no, but hope for it, sometimes. And now this is our reality, and it's better than anything I could have hoped for."

Aziraphale kissed his shoulder and said quietly, "Yes, much better."

They stayed in the bathtub for a few moments, basking in this happiness that was real, accompanied by two little ducks bobbing in the rippling water.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[moongothic]

It's so funny to rewatch pre-timeskip OP now that I have Terminal Crocodile Brainrot, because like. I don't think I ever really realized how the man just HAUNTS the narrative after Alabasta all the way until he's "reunited" with Luffy in Impel Down. How he keeps on being mentioned time and time again, the story never letting us forget about him like so many other villians Luffy had defeated thus far

Aokiji mentioning part of the reason he let Luffy escape with his life was because Luffy had dealt with Crocodile

That revolutionary explaining to Dragon how Luffy had gained a large bounty after causing not just an incident in Enies Lobby but also was the one who took down Crocodile

Blackbeard targetting Luffy and then bringing in Ace because he wanted the vacant Shichibukai seat from Crocodile

Kuma arriving at Thriller Bark to talk to Moria about the incoming war and how the Government was concerned about him fighting Luffy when Luffy had been the one who took down Crocodile

And let's not forget Miss Goldenweek's cover story during the CP9 Saga, letting us know ahead of time where Crocodile was heading

Not to mention the whole build-up to the reunion during Impel Down. Like the way we cut to Ace and Jinbei a few times and get to see Crocodile('s hook, primarily) as a little tease, and then there's also the few times he gets name dropped by other characters, constantly reminding us that He's Here (like Domino, who mentioned Crocodile taking the traditional 200 Celcius Bath at the prison's entrance like all new prisoners do without batting an eye, or Iva-chan who mentions to Bon-chan that their former boss was being held at Level 6 with Ace). But then there's my favorite, more subtle thing, where Impel Down essentially does a Baroque Works Countdown to reuniting with Crocodile. At Level 2 we reunite with Mr 3, Level 3 we reunite with Mr 2, Level 4 we get to see Mr 1. Skip ahead to the final level and there he is, Mr 0 himself. Like that's a fucking countdown, and it's so cute to me lmao

I dunno man, the way Crocodile haunts the narrative pre-timeskip is so cool in hindsight to me, the way Oda never truly let us forget about the man. And it really makes the way he kind of disappears from the narrative after the Summit War until the Final Fucking Saga so interesting. Like yes, we do get Two Whole Glimpses at the man in total during Dressrosa and Whole Cake (and there's minor stuff like in Punk Hazard when Luffy, Smoker and co are captured Luffy compares it to the time they were "held captive in Alabasta"). So he did keep on haunting the narrative. But it got far more quieter, those regular reminders that Crocodile exists are almost gone. And that's facinating, 'cause during pre-timeskip he was in fucking prison. Like he wasn't up to anything, nefarious or otherwise, 'cause he was behind bars, and yet the story would not let us forget about him and his impact on the story. Post-timeskip the guy's a free man, and yet we heard nothing about what the fuck he had been up to UNTIL Cross Guild happened.

I dunno man, it feels like a lot of weight to put on a character if he's not meant to become actually important to the plot

[deuterium51614]

Boueibu Rewatch Part 13

Episode Ten

I need to start using this clip of Ata in bed for Nefarious Kyoata Purposes™️ like I do with my two Enkin clips. (I did it once for that Community AMV I did the night the movie got announced... Really, I need to just start making HK AMVs in general!)

Kyoutarou's hair is so pretty here~

Also it's cool how we can see the Happy Braces through the water. I don't think they had that detail with the Lovracelets?

Okay, so like. I mentioned this in my rewatch post for LOVE! S1E4, that the logic for this monster makes more sense than Igarao's, but then was thinking they both make sense, so here goes.

Igarao's monster was created for a TV show in-universe, with the goal of destroying the Earth. I don't think we got an explanation from Zundar for why they were turning everyone into kids/babies? There is the whole thing someone said with "kids are cute (good for ratings) and when the Battle Lovers turn back, they'll be naked (also good for ratings)." But since the goal with the swan monster was to make a world "where boys love boys, and no one will be able to make progeny," maybe the original goal if that one succeeded was to regress everyone's ages and raise these children to be evil? Or just obey Caerula Adamas?

On the other hand, Santa's turtle monster really was based off his negative emotions and insecurities. Furanui's whole thing is that he wants to rule the world with fear, he has no reason to care for anything like "ratings" since he's not doing it for a TV show. This student doesn't like being called old? People tend to be afraid to get older? Okay, show everyone that you have the power to turn them into senior citizens, and only turn them back once they see him as their king.

Anyway...

The slowed down music for the attack gets me every time lol

Cloth otter vs wire Fennec. (That was in my notes with no elaboration...)

Episode Eleven

"One Centimeter to Happy" vs "I Miss You 3 Meters" lol

Still annoying that they de-transformed, just to re-transform with the full transformations.

You think we're going to have the "muddy kids forever" scene happen in the movie? Like will the BL Defense Club look back and be like "oh yeah, we remember you as kids" or will it be revealed that it was Death Amor going back in time disguised as them? Or will it be the future BL Defense Club going back in time to make sure the event happened, and that's why we don't see their faces? Because they're not high schoolers anymore and just wearing the uniforms?

I have a jokey headcanon that in all these ten years, Ata never had a bath because of this incident. (He's a stinky boy lol)

I love Martha's "oh my God!" and "shut up!" English moments.

The pigeon sounds like the old man with the bird on his head from Labyrinth.

Episode Twelve

So like. For a split second, the architecture in the Honyara Land city, not the castle, vaguely reminds me of Most City from Gekkan Mousou.

The 3D soldiers always give me Wizard of Oz vibes for some reason...

Didn't know Wao shares a seiyuu with the crab monster that attacked the twins! (Or maybe I did at some point.)

At some points, it seems like the throne room is in the robot's mouth, but other times it seems like a screen.

Also, I don't like how the mecha's mouth changes from open to closed and back to open whenever the camera changes. Like... The mouth opened, it's been established. Either keep it open, or have another clip to show that Wao closed it again and keep it closed from that point on.

Anyway, if I had a nickel for every time a Boueibu finale had an animal-themed mecha piloted by the (surprise) villain(s), I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice.

Did the staff change for the Super Happy and Turn? (Looked again, and I don't think it did. Thought I noticed extra details...)

Is there any pattern to the clips in the ending? I feel like the first two seasons had them in some sort of order if I'm remembering right, but these feel like they're going all over the place...

But anyway! That's it! The end of my rewatch! People are watching the movie right now, and I am screaming and crying that we can't see it until maybe March!

Should we do a rewatch of other Umatani anime in the meantime? At the same rate of 3 episodes per week, we'd probably be able to get through RobiHachi (makes sense to continue with that, since it's in the same universe as Boueibu) and most if not all of Fairy Ranmaru...

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

RANDOM DEATH NOTE HEADCANONS I WANT TO SHARE THANKS TO ME WANTING TO EXSPAND MY AU:

LIGHT:

Has survivor syndrome. What's that? Survivor syndrome, also known as survivor's guilt, is the response of a person when they believe they have done something wrong by surviving a traumatic event when others did not, often feeling self-guilt. This can be from being Kira or set before Kira, like an incident from his youth that he forever lingers with. This mixed with his "where's the justice" mind set only adds fuel to the fire of the war in his mind

Favorite food isn't apples as many would assume/joke about

The poor boy didn't really think of his sexual orientation until collage, didn't have the means or needs to and it wasn't only until he dated Misa and began to hang out with L he started to think on it more

In my AU Ryuk and Rem didn't give Light and Misa the Death Notes again and L, Light, Misa, etc didn't die, so this technically takes place the amnesia arc which I argue is a favorite okay?! Still doesn't mean Light gets dreams of him as Kira and isn't aware he was.

MISA:

Got really into the Gothic look after her parents' death where someone was a jerk and said a "joke" when she was still wearing black while she was still grieving

Didn't really fall in love with L right away (obviously) but she did care for him in a way that showed she cared

Loves bubble baths

Like Light she still has dreams of Rem and often find herself crying over the waking of her dreams as if someone killed her loved one in front of her

And like Light she knows after Rem confronted her she was the second Kira and feels terrible about it

Has a beautiful singing voice

After a lot her and Kiyomi kind of became friends, she honestly feels as if Kiyomi reminds her of someone she knew before (ie rem)

L:

Dude, this man was aware he liked both for a loooooonnng ass time, since Wammy actually

He knows Light and Misa were Kira, I mean he subspecies it since day one but to actually be right honestly hurt him.. He didn't want to be right in this case. So, he swore not to say a word since they're no longer Kira and 2nd Kira

Loves baths more than Misa

His family died in an domestic abuse murder suicide and he wandered out the house alone in which an officer found him and discovered his family's death, since then he's been emotionally isolated

Is autistic just doesn't get meds

Has lots of stim toys and objects he uses a lot when he thinks hard or under/overstimulated

Loves hot cocoa with marshmallows and whipped cream

Watari was basically his father after the many years they've known each other, doing the most of a father like role than others, helping the boy when needed, etc. And while L doesn't show emotions he generally is greatful and sees Watari as his father figure, even having him his best man and father-of-the-groom for his wedding

MISALIGHTL:

As mentioned with L when I said "wedding", the three didn't really want a huge public wedding since that would exposed L's identity and it would be a headache to deal with so they had a secret small ceremony with friends and some family with Watari being L's father-of-the-groom, Sayu as Light's Best Lady, and Kiyomi was Misa's maid of Honor. They each wore a mix of white and black with some red elements thrown in there for many reasons but mostly cause L said they looked good so yeah

Their wedding cake was similar to these two:

They all live in an apartment together, similar as to the building they were all stuck in, and have their own rooms/studies for work while Misa keeps working as a model and actress and both L and Light kept working as detectives until Light decided to leave being a detective after so many nightmares of cases and being Kira and decided to be a true crime/mystery novel writer

One day while they were chilling, pre-marriage them btw, L decided he's going to visit Wammy to get any plans of who his next "L" would be if he died and they came along with him. There they were able to meet Near, Mello, and Matt. The three kids hung out with them during their stay back in Japan to see who is perfect for the next role. Weeks pass and all three are doing really well and it didn't really sink in until later that L is actually doing this to see if he wants kids. Well, Misa and Light like the idea and they ended up adopting Mello as their son in which he admittedly cried

They go on date nights three times a week, one for each pair with their trio dates mostly being at home

After a few years of marriage they had two kids of their own in which Mello likes the role of older brother

NEAR:

Like L, Near is autistic (I believe that's canon and people hate it??)

Is nonbinary. I'm sorry I honestly can't see this baby as cis at all!

Owns lots of pants, shirts, skirts, dresses, tights, boots, heels, flat shoes, socks that'll work with him with any gender dysphoria and day

Primally goes by Near since that sounded right

Suffer from night terrors which is how his spark of studying happened cause that distracted them

Demi-Sexual bean!

Got adopted by Kiyomi and gets spoiled rotten

MELLO:

Choco-holic what else is new

Suffered an eating disorder which was quickly helped fixed with Matt and his new family

Mentioned above with L, Light, and Misa adopting him, he adores his family gratefully and it's not just cause L chose him out of everyone

Him and Near still have a rather strong rivalry but it's healthy now and also more so childish thanks to their adopted families

Likes his Uncle Matsuda a lot (Matsuda ends up marrying Sayu in this)

Is kind of that kid in school who knows shit and will market the crap out of soda and candies to the kids who have money and parents who won't allow sugar in his household

Often gets caught sneaking out to see Matt and sometimes (a lot) Near by his parents

Is Pan and always knew it

MATT:

Got adopted by Stephen and Teru in this AU

Still is obsessed with video games and eats candy cigarettes until he's legal to smoke if he wants to

Is straight besties with Mello and Near

Has so much gaming stuff it's unreal

Loves the rain

MATT X MELLO X NEAR:

Got together sometime after Near was adopted with Matt and Mello being a thing first and Near joined after

They're both protective of Near

And then Near would shock everyone with a thrown of a textbook to the face if someone says something bad about either of them

Misa is overly supportive of this relationship, Kiyomi loves to tease Near often, and the many times Teru and Stephen would interrupt calls with them to tease is too much

[bluvlet]

top five in9 costumes? :3

Ooh this is an interesting question! These aren’t going to be ranked in the sense I prefer one more than the other, it’ll just be a list of five I like! Also I’ve never sat down and properly thought about it before, so apologies if the reasonings are a bit lacklustre.

5. Rudolph (A Random Act of Kindness)

I really really like drawing this guy. Long hair and greying hair are both characteristic that just really appeal to me visually, and I find them really fun to draw. Also i like the subtle differences between original timeline Rudolph and the alternate Rudolph that appears in the episode. Original Rudolph has his hair tied back, less facial hair, and smaller, more rectangular glasses. He feels a lot more put together. Alternate Rudolph wears his hair down, his facial hair is more grown out, his glasses are rounder frames that, if I am picturing him correctly, don’t fit his face as neatly. His more laid back appearance reflective of how much less important he is in this timeline, and how aimless he tells Zach he feels. In his video to himself Original Rudolph is dressed neatly in black and blue; Alternate Rudolph looks like he’s had the life sucked out of him, standing around in baggy white and grey. (Zach is also dressed in white in this scene. I wonder if it has something to do with it being his mother’s funeral - a reversal of the traditional custom of wearing black? Whatever reason, it makes the alternate timeline look so strange and sterile.)

4. Ronnie (Wise Owl)

Ronnie’s costume does very well to be a physical representation of his mental state. I think it’s good that we never see a change in costume (even though you would expect him to after the bath incident) or see him take off his shoes (as far as I’m aware). I like the colour choice of orange and pink, I can’t explain it but they feel like very hopeful colours to me - compared to say, if he was wearing red. But they also remind me a bit of fire, and Joanne’s pink birthday balloon. I like the detail of his hair being the same, still long enough to conceal the burn scar on his ear… The wig itself was rather horrendous though.

3 + 2. Blake + Drew (The Trolley Problem)

Ugh he’s not talking about The Trolley Problem again is he…. Individually I love Blake and Drew’s costuming, but I also love how they visually contrast each other! Blake wears a white jacket overtop a black shirt. And he accessorises himself with bracelets and necklaces and a ring on his middle finger. His hair is styled upwards and white, but not quite entirely, and is still a bit dark around the back. Drew on the other hand wears his darker colours on his outer layers, with his white shirt peeking out from underneath his jumper. He is dressed plainly, without accessory, and his hair is black and flat to his head - but neat. I just love the visual dichotomy of the two of them, urgh they fascinate me endlessly.

(Also this is not a serious point but I find it a bit funny that Blake wears glasses, and lacks the ability to see the wider scope of Drew’s plan. Glasses are a universal icon of intelligence, particularly academic, but wearing them indicates that you have imperfect vision. Your glasses can be taken from you, and you can be left ‘in the dark’.)

1. Pierce (The Bones of St Nicholas)

I have nothing remotely serious to say about this I just love his christmas jumper and his hat and him matching with Posie. They’re so cute. I can’t wait until December, and it becomes the appropriate time of year for me to draw fanart of this episode.