#it's been years and the town's progressed beyond that

[treefish]

Pepperfig’s a tourist destination

[diaperbird]

The Forgotten Nursery

It was supposed to be just another weekend adventure for Nick, Jake, and Ethan three friends, barely twenty, looking for a bit of fun and maybe some harmless mischief. They'd heard rumors about the old abandoned research facility on the outskirts of town. Supposedly, the place had been part of some government project, long since shut down. Curiosity got the better of them, and on a Saturday afternoon, they made their way through the overgrown woods, eventually stumbling upon the facility's decaying entrance.

Nick is tall and broad-shouldered, standing around 6'2" with a muscular, thick build. His arms are well-defined from years of lifting weights, with prominent biceps and forearms that show the physicality of his sport. His chest and legs are equally strong, giving him a bulky, powerful appearance. Nick's jawline is square, with a bit of scruff on his face, and his short, dirty-blond hair is styled in a messy, athletic cut. His tan skin, often a bit weathered from outdoor practice, adds to his rugged, athletic look.

Jake has a lean, sculpted physique, standing around 5'10". His body is built for speed and endurance, with long, toned limbs and a sleek, athletic frame. His chest and shoulders are defined, but not bulky, showing the streamlined look of someone used to cutting through water. His skin has a slight bronze glow from spending so much time in the pool under the sun. Jake's dark brown hair is short and neatly cut, often slicked back from the pool water.

Ethan is lanky, with a wiry, slender build. Standing around 5'9", his frame is much more delicate compared to Nick or Jake. His arms and legs are long but thin, with just a hint of muscle definition, more the result of occasional activity rather than any dedicated sport. His pale skin has a slight flush, with a face that is more youthful and boyish, giving him a softer, almost innocent look. Ethan's black hair is longer, falling messily around his face, often covering his light blue eyes.

"Looks like no one's been here in years," Nick remarked as he nudged open the rusted door. The heavy metal groaned, revealing a dark hallway beyond.

As they ventured deeper, their flashlights flickered across old signs and faded labels. Most of the rooms had been gutted, but one door caught Ethan's attention. "Nursery Wing - Research in Progress." His heart raced with excitement, fueled by the thrill of the unknown.

"Bet this is where they ran some freaky experiments," Jake chuckled, shoving the door open.

The room was pristine, completely untouched by time. Large cribs lined the walls, soft lighting illuminating shelves full of stuffed animals and pastel-colored furniture. In the middle of the room stood a large central console with a blinking light-a sign that, against all odds, this place still had power.

"What the hell is this?" Nick muttered, stepping inside. It looked like a nursery, but everything was sized for adults-oversized cribs, high chairs, and baby toys that were far too large for actual infants.

"Looks like someone had a thing for some twisted baby roleplay," Ethan joked, his laughter echoing eerily in the sterile room.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind them. Before any of them could react, the console in the center lit up, and a voice-mechanical, calm, and nurturing-filled the room. "Welcome, little ones. Playtime is about to begin."

"What the fu-" Jake started, but he was interrupted as a robotic arm extended from the wall, grabbing him by the arm. "Hey, get off me!"

Before they could fully comprehend what was happening, similar arms shot out, pulling Nick and Ethan toward separate changing tables. The friends struggled, but the mechanical grip was too strong. The tables adjusted automatically, creating straps to hold them in place.

"System activation: Regression protocol initiated," the voice chimed sweetly. "Let's get the little ones ready for their nap."

Panic surged through the trio as they were stripped of their clothes, the mechanical arms working quickly and efficiently. Within moments, they were diapered -thick, crinkling, adult-sized diapers with smiling and playful animals printed on them wrapped snugly around their waists. Soft baby powder filled the air, and the scent only added to the surreal nature of what was happening.

"What the hell is going on?!" Nick shouted, but his words started to feel fuzzy. His mind grew foggy, the sharp edges of his thoughts dulling as if something was gently erasing them.

The same was happening to Jake and Ethan. Their struggles weakened, replaced by confusion and a strange sense of comfort. The mechanical arms lifted them from the tables and placed each of them into a large crib. Blankets, warm and soft, were pulled over them. Their diapers hugged them tightly seemingly draining their will to fight with each moment that passed.

"There, there" the voice cooed. "The little ones are safe now. No more big boy thoughts, just soft, simple feelings."

Jake blinked, his eyelids growing heavier. "What were we doing here...?" he mumbled, unable to remember why he was even scared.

Just as the trio was starting to settle into their new reality, more robotic arms extended from the ceiling, each holding a large baby bottle filled with a warm, creamy liquid. The scent of milk filled the air, but there was something else in it too-something sweet but slightly off.

The arms positioned the bottles at their mouths, and the voice returned, calm and insistent. "Time for a nice bottle before your nap, little ones. Drink up."

The boys tried to resist, shaking their heads, but their bodies felt heavy, almost too relaxed to fight back. Each of them was forced to start drinking. The liquid was smooth and comforting as it slid down their throats, and within moments, all three bottles were emptied.

Unbeknownst to them, the milk was laced with laxatives-a powerful dose designed to break down any remaining sense of control.

"Good boys finish their bottles," the voice purred. "And good boys use their diapers."

Nick was the first to feel the uncomfortable pressure building in his stomach. He groaned, shifting in the crib as his body reacted to the laxatives. "Oh no... what the hell did they put in that?"

Jake grunted beside him, clearly feeling the same pressure. "Man, I don't wanna... I can't..."He clenched his stomach, trying to hold it in, but the urge was overwhelming.

The voice returned, its tone soothing yet authoritative. "There's no need to hold it in, little ones. You're wearing your diapers for a reason. Good boys let go. Good boys use their diapers."

Ethan whimpered, clutching the front of his diaper as the pressure became too much to bear. He squeezed his legs together, trying to resist, but the voice echoed in his mind. "Good boys use their diapers. Don't fight it. Let go."

The boys squirmed, each of them desperately trying to maintain some sense of dignity, some sliver of control. But the urge was too strong, the pressure too intense. One by one, their resolve broke.

Ethan was the first to lose control. His body tensed before he let out a soft gasp, feeling the warm mess filling the back of his diaper. As the release hit, a strange wave of relief and euphoria washed over him. The humiliation of messing himself melted away, replaced by a growing sense of freedom. His mind felt lighter, as if every adult worry and concern was being emptied out along with his bowels.

Jake followed shortly after, groaning as he felt his body give in. He let out a breathless laugh, the feeling of the warm, mushy diaper oddly comforting. The regression sank in deeper as he let go of any lingering thoughts of resistance with each load he filled his diaper with. His mind was free-childlike, simple, and content.

Nick held out the longest, but even he couldn't resist forever. His body betrayed him, and as he filled his diaper, a powerful sensation of surrender overtook him. The weight of his "big boy" thoughts and responsibilities seemed to drain away, leaving only the blissful, empty feeling of someone without a care in the world.

"There, there," the voice cooed once more. "Good boys use their diapers. Doesn't it feel nice to let go? No more big boy worries, just soft, simple thoughts from now on."

The boys, now fully regressed, lay in their cribs with content smiles on their faces. Their minds were blank slates, free from the burdens of adulthood. Their diapers full of what used to be their big boy thoughts. With each movement their diapers squelched in response. They had become exactly what the nursery wanted-obedient, happy, diapered little ones, without a care in the world.

[shmowder]

In P1, it always felt like Artemy glossed over his father's death, like he didn't give much of a reaction nor act like someone would in a state of grief. You get more lines to address it in P2, more opportunities to reminisce about the past and Artemy's childhood. It feels like you go through the stages of grief with him. You watch him miss the dad he had whilst accepting his death. He kneels at the pit of mass graves with the thread in his pocket, witnessing the dead speak and his only question was if his dad can hear him one last time. A stark contrast to how cold-hearted he seemed to onlookers in P1.

It made me question if he even cared that his father had died, if it even mattered to Artemy. Sure he always has shown concern to who killed his father and diligence to fullfill his role as menkhu, but nothing beyond that. Nothing personal, as if he was using revenge as a distraction from facing his emotions.

Sometimes, in P1, you get lines like these.

And it's sudden, abrupt, and completely takes you off guard from how out of tone it feels. How just the mention of his father has him suddenly getting agitated, ignoring the facts. Each time any character mentions Isidor and talks about him freely, Artemy gets the option to tell them to shut up and that they don't know what they're talking about, that they can't possibly understand. It can lock you out of quests.

In one conversation, you get that option 3 times in a row, and you have to avoid choosing it each time so you don't end the quest. Artemy actively has to stop himself from snapping at people left and right so he doesn't throw away all of the progress he has made.

A literal explosion of emotions after days of silence and going as business usual, pretending that nothing is out of the ordinary.

Mind you, that dialogue line above happens in the same conversation as this one below. So by that point, Artemy snapped at someone he considered a friend.

Artemy is grieving, Artemy is distraught, and he doesn't know how to deal with these emotions in P1. So he supresses them, doesn't acknowledge the lines Isidor writes about wishing his son was by his side in his dairy, doesn't accept any condolences nor pity.

He puts a facade of composure since he stepped foot off of that train, a mask of apathy so he doesn't appear weak to anyone in this town. He can't be Artemy the son, he needs to be Burakh the wise menkhu, the warden of kin, the healer his father diligently raised him to be.

He has no time to think about it, he needs to invent a cure, he needs to protect the children, he...needs his dad but that dad is gone.

In P2, he hasn't seen his father in 5 years, but in P1? 10. A decade came and went. How lonely it must have felt, how long the ride on the train back home must have been. How suffocating that anxiety of facing your family after a decade without contact, wondering if his farher would be proud of who he has become. That feeling that you're in trouble when a parent addresses you by your full name and urges you to come see them, it's like he was 10 years again. How could he have known that in the same night he'll come back home to being the last remaining Burakh in town.

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

(short continuation to the prompt I wrote, which is linked below. I thought I was done with this, but then @victoria-has-no-secret and @bluerosefox had some ideas to incorporate into it. Screenshots of said ideas are also below but are sprinkled throughout the post too.)

(*) = Me building off of other ideas

TW: mentions of animal death

← previous

✦

After the whole fiasco with the Justice League, Danny gets an idea. Not very many people actually know about Laika, at least from what he could see of the majority of the Justice League who had never learned about her. Although, to be fair, a lot of them come from different planets. Either way, it gives Danny the idea to create a YouTube channel starring Laika to teach the people of Earth about the pup.

The channel immediately garners attention from all around the world, and even winds up on a couple of news stations too! It grows so much that Danny decides to expand further than just Laika, but to the other things that were sent into space in the quest for knowledge: The space rovers as well as many other animals.

Laika even leads Danny to them as he ventures further into space with a specially made camera that can withstand traversing space and the differing atmosphereic conditions of other planets. He manages to find every single one of them, discovering that maybe Laika hadn't been as alone as he'd first thought as he watches and records her playing with the spirits (imprints?) of the rovers, chimps, mice, and many other animals haunting the endless void of the cosmos.

People back on earth are going wild with the knowledge that their hopes, thoughts, and feelings helped to give life to beings that had long been dead/stopped working. They have no idea what to feel about this new information except an amalgamation of pure awe, curiosity, joy, guilt, and sadness. They still mourned the loss of Laika, the rovers, and everyone before and after them, but knowing that their existence wasn't completely lost soothed an ache many didn't know they carried with them when they were there to witness the beginning of such astronomical leaps in technology.

To also know that out of the many stars shooting across the sky, one of them might be Laika happily racing amongst the stars with her friends brought many to tears. At every opportunity, they wished for the sweet pup's happiness and the continuing health of their own furry companions down on Earth with them. They also wished that upon the eventuality that they have to part with their companions that maybe a few of them would join Laika and her friends in stars to keep them company for many years to come.

Although many of these wishes were heard by Desiree, she refused to touch such hopeful and well-meaning wishes for fear of twisting them in unseemly ways, allowing them to form on their own. The other ghosts among Danny's rouges even made a deal with each other to not interfere or attack the town when Danny was recording his videos out in space.

It was beyond bad manners to interfere with another ghost's obsession, after all.

✦

I'm gonna go cry some more. I've learned more about the progress of space exploration in the past couple hours than I probably should. This is the last thing I'm adding onto this prompt. If any of y'all wanna continue it, be my guest!

Notes:

(*) One more thing to add. Where are the ghost hunters/Guys in White during all of this? If they start making a fuss over Phantom and all the ghost animals, do they get a bunch of civilians raiding their government facilities and causing them bodily harm? What's happening with the Justice League? Are they sitting back and eating popcorn while all this goes down? Who knows. :)

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part nine

authors note: ya'll had me rolling in the comments on the last update. calling this man big dick joe. lololol. i hope this one is okay. i'm not very good at writing those scenes, but i tried!! angst is def more my bread and butter.

song inspo: "with me" by destiny's child

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: language, suggestive themes, smut

words: 8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“You look so damn good. If you don’t get ate out tonight, come back home early, and I’ll do the honors.”

It’s a miracle that you’re able to keep a straight face as Alexis does the finishing touches on your makeup. “Well, that’s not gonna happen, period, because this is just a date.”

Alexis pauses and gives you a look. “I know you’ve been out of the game for a while, but you do know what typically happens on dates, right?”

Rolling your eyes, you retort, “Lex, not everyone fucks on the first date.”

She sucks her teeth and swaps out the eyeliner for mascara. “Bitch, this is not a first date. He’s painted your walls too many times for you to say anything between ya’ll is a first.” 

As much as you hate it, she has somewhat of a point. You and Joe have checked so many boxes already that it does seem kinda silly to call this a first date. But, in many ways, it is. He’s never before asked you to go anywhere outside of the couple of times he invited you to his show, since you were already in town because he'd flown you out. 

But never anything beyond that. 

So, in that way, it is a first date.

And maybe that’s why you’re nervous. It’s a first too. Not a lot of things make you nervous. Even when you cheered, there was some level of anxiety before competitions, but even that was minimal compared to some of the panicked expressions you’d see on your teammates faces. When it comes to Callie, there are definitely a lot of things that make you nervous, but that’s just regular parental anxiety. 

So this butterflies shit is unfamiliar and annoying. 

It’s also just Joe. You know him, you know him better than almost anyone else in your life outside of Mariah and Callie. 

Thinking of Mariah, you grab your phone and hit the side button to see if you have any notifications. Instead, you’re just met with Callie’s smiling face.

Alexis sees this and comments casually, “still nothing?”

You don’t respond, because it’s not necessary. She already knows the answer. 

“Well, whatever she’s got going on, let her deal with it the way she wants,” Alexis advises, grabbing the powder brush to brush off some excessive powder on your cheeks. “You’ve got too many good things going on in your life for you to be stressed out over her fake ass.” 

She’s not entirely wrong. There’s definitely not a shortage of topics you still need to sort through, many of which should take precedent over you wondering what the hell is going on with your best friend since kindergarten. Still, it’s hard for you not to worry about her and feel confused about what’s shifted between the two of you.

You haven’t heard from her since you text her when Callie was in the hospital, and she replied back that she was praying for you and Callie and asked if you wanted her to come to the hospital. You thanked her but let her know that Joe was with you, so you were okay.

You haven’t heard from her since then. 

It’s not that difficult to put two and two together. There’s something about Joe that makes Mariah stay away and keep her distance. You just can’t figure out why.

“Okay, enough of your overthinking. Time to see my masterpiece.” She gloats and claps her hand, removing the towel she’d put around your chest area to prevent anything from spilling on your outfit. Alexis sighs, “you seriously look amazing, Y/N.”

Standing and stretching your back, you walk over to the full body mirror against the opposite wall of your bedroom. “Oh….”

The last time you actually dressed up was at the town’s annual Christmas party two years back. You’d always gone growing up and wanted Callie to experience it for herself, even though Callie ended up utterly disinterested, hence that being your last appearance. It was hard to justify dragging her to something she was too young to enjoy and even understand. 

So, seeing yourself done up like this is a shock. Alexis absolutely slayed your makeup, perfect wingliner and all. The white, ruched, off shoulder dress is form-fitting, hugging every curve you’ve had since a teenager that's only improved since having Callie. It’s a beautiful contrast against your melanin. You’ve always thought white on black women looked so classy. 

Your curls are styled and pinned into an almost pineapple atop your head. The jewelry is simple and basic: necklace and hoops. No bracelet considering the dress is long-sleeved.

All of this creates the absolutely stunning reflection staring back at you. It brings a smile to your face. You’d forgotten how nice it feels to actually get done up.

Alexis appears in the mirror and rests her chin on your shoulder, smiling broadly. “Told you. Boss bitch.”

Matching her smile, you turn to hug her. You really couldn’t have done this without her, even her offering to take Callie for the night as it was a nighttime date, and you doubted you’d be home before bedtime. “Thank you.” 

“You’re my best friend. You never have to thank me.” She wiggles her brow. “Just give me a rundown of the pounding that’s bound to commence tonight. A video will do as well.”

Your mouth drops open. “Alexis, you—”

“Mommy! I need you.”

You’ve never in your life felt so grateful to be needed by anyone. Maneuvering through the avalanche of clothes that make up most of your bedroom right now, the result of the two of you trying to figure out what the hell you were going to wear, you’re more than happy to saunter over to Callie’s playroom to see what she needs.

“What’s up, sis?”

You see she’s sitting at her little table, surrounded by crayons, markers, colored paper, and other art supplies. Her eyes fall on you with glee as she gasps loudly.

“Mommy, you look so pretty!”

There’s something about a heartfelt compliment from your child that provides such a level of joy.  

“Thank you, baby.” Moving closer to the table, you sit down on the chair opposite her, ignoring how goddamn uncomfortable it is. “What you got for me?”

She shuffles through a couple of pages and lifts one to show you. “Do you think Joe will like this?”

Your eyes study the colorful drawing she’s created against bright yellow—her favorite color—construction paper. It’s the average sun in the corner, green grass, and blue clouds drawing one would expect from a young child, but that’s not what immediately catches your attention. What draws your attention is the fact that there are two people she’s drawn, a heart between the two of them. 

Her and Joe.

Eyes watering, you do your best not to cry. You’re pretty sure everything on your face is waterproof, but you’re not trying to find out right now. Not when Joe should be arriving at your place any minute. “He’s gonna love it, Callie.”

Her face lights up with excitement at your approval. “Yay!” Taking it from you and tucking it underneath some other papers, she offers you another one. “I made this one too!”

You definitely can’t hold back the tears this time around. It’s the same backdrop, outside scenery but with a big house drawn behind the three of you: Callie, Joe, and yourself. With a heart over everyone’s head.

“Callie…..”

Callie, being young, sees your tears and automatically mistakens them for something else. Smile dropping and frown appearing, she moves up from the table and comes to hug you. “Don’t cry, mommy. I can make a new one!”

Wiping at your eyes, you shake your head, accepting her hug. “No, baby. Mommy’s crying because she’s happy, because she loves it.”

Instantly, her smile is back. “Really?”

“It’s beautiful. Is this one for your d—Joe too?”

Christmas can’t come soon enough, because this is at least the third time you’ve almost unintentionally given away Joe’s true identity. And that’s something you swore to him and yourself you’d allow him to reveal to Callie. It’s so hard though when moments like this occur, moments where you just want her to know the man she already loves is the same man who helped bring her into this world. 

She surprises you by shaking her head no. “I wanna put it in my room.” 

Sniffling, you nod, agreeing. “I think that’s a great idea.” 

Callie takes your hand and brings you into her room, the two of you taking a few minutes to decide where her photo should go. Eventually, she decides on right above her bed and you post it up using a thumbtack. 

Alexis walks into the bedroom to see what’s happening and gasps when she sees Callie’s drawing. “Callie, did you draw that? Sweetie, it’s so amazing!”

The compliment makes Callie smile harder as she says, “thank you!”

“We’re gonna have so much fun tonight, kiddo.”

Her eyes light up, premature excitement brewing. “Can we watch Disney movies?”

“Not only can we watch Disney movies, but we can dance and sing with Disney movies.”

Oh Lord. You have a feeling Callie won’t be in bed by 7:30pm, but it’s not worth pushing back on. You’re just grateful she’s agreed to stay around in town long enough for your date to stay with Callie. You know you could always ask your mom, but she’s already helped out so much in the past couple weeks, you figured she could use a break. 

“Yay!” 

You and Alexis work to clean up the disaster that is your room as Callie busies herself in her playroom. Nearly finished, Alexis suddenly shares, “oh, I got something for you!”

Closing up your drawer, you place your hands on your hips. “Lex, you’ve already done so much for—-” you’re silenced by the box she’s suddenly reaching your way. “---me.” A headache is coming, migraine even. “Alexis, seriously?”

“What? It’s obvious ya’ll don’t use condoms.” Moving over to the side of your bed, she slides open the drawer of your nightstand and secures the box of Plan B.

“How many times do I have to say—”

Your 937589th time defending yourself that day is interrupted by the doorbell followed by Callie excitedly yelling “Joe!”

“I’ll get it,” Alexis offers, rushing over to you to give some quick, last minute advice. “You got this okay? It’s Joe. You know him like you know the back of your hand. You’re just hanging out with a muscular, 6’3 wrestler who also happens to be your baby daddy. No pressure.”

“Lex, sometimes you really do suck.”

“No, that’s going to be you tonight.” She laughs, ducking as you toss a decorative pillow in her direction. 

Blowing through your mouth, you attempt a mini pep talk, digging deep for the shitload you had and utilized as cheer captain what feels like so long ago.

“It’s just a date. Just a date.”

That’s the mantra, the ideal that you have to live by, have to pocket and keep with you at all times. 

Just a date. 

Grabbing your purse off the dresser, you slide on your heels and head out to the living room. What you’re met with is both expected and unexpected. Joe is holding Callie who’s clearly catching him up on everything he’s missed since he was last in town, minute by minute play, of course. But, Alexis is in the kitchen surrounded by three separate bouquets of flowers, one of red roses, one yellow, and one pink. 

Joe’s gaze is on you as soon as you enter the space, but your attention is focused on the breathtaking roses. 

“Have I told you he’s my top choice for you?” Alexis asks, explaining and pointing. “The pinks are for me, yellows are for Cal Gal, and the reds are, obviously for you.” A warm smile grows on your face. He’s so damn thoughtful. 

Walking over to him, you cross your arms. “Red roses are my favorites.”

“I remember.” Of course he does. He sweeps his eyes over you, slowly, meticulously. “You look beautiful.”

Bashful would never ever be a word you’d use to describe yourself, but it’s definitely how you feel in this moment. “Thank you.”

He looks good too, but that’s not surprising. Joe always looks good, even in his otherwise basic outfit of dark jeans, long sleeved black fitted shirt, and simple gold chain around his neck. The man could wear an orange jumpsuit, and you’d still want to fuck him silly. 

“Okay, Cal Gal, we better let them get going, so you and I can head out too.”

Alexis' words catch Joe’s attention, as he asks, protectively, “where are you taking her?”

Callie answers, “Auntie Lex and I are gonna have a sleepover at the hotel!”

Joe looks at you, quizzically. “I told her they can just stay here.”

“Just in case,” she winks at Joe and reminds you, quietly. “Nightstand, babes.”

Heading out is as expected. Callie asks once again if she can come with you guys, and Joe promises that the three of you will do something together at a later time. You remind Alexis to not allow Callie to pig out on junk food and go to bed on time, or at least, a decent time. 

Not that it means much. You know she’s gonna do what she wants, because that’s who Alexis is. 

That doesn’t bother you as much as Joe not telling you shit about this date other than that you probably won’t get back until late. Which isn’t much of anything. 

“What about a—”

He glances at you only for a second, then focuses back on the road. “The answer gon’ be the same as it was the last ten times you asked.”

Glaring at him, you cross your arms. “You know I hate surprises.”

“I’m aware.”

“But, you’re surprising me anyway?”

“Sure am.” Sucking your teeth and looking out the window, you cross your arms, turning your body away from him. “Watch the attitude, sweetheart, or I’ll fix it for you at the end of the night.”

His words shouldn’t make your thighs clench together.

“Whatever.” Pulling out your phone, you start to connect it to the car’s bluetooth. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not gonna sit here in silence, but I have nothing to say to you, so we need some music.” You’re certain he’s rolling his eyes but doesn’t say anything. Hardheaded ass. He definitely does speak up though when the iconic opening guitar from Smells Like Teen Spirit fills the SUV. 

“Oh my god.”

“I don’t want to hear it. You leave me and my musical tastes alone.”

It seems like a rite of passage for every preteen or teenager to have some type of emo phase where they blast and rock out to Paramore like it’s a religious experience. Emphasis on phase. You never really grew out of yours. A love for rock music was something that stemmed from your love of paramore and morphed to the overall genre in general over the years. It was also something you and Alexis had in common, attending Warped your junior year of college. Joe always roasted you for this, because it was so unexpected.

You just liked your Breaking Benjamin just as much as you liked your Megan Thee Stallion.

“You know Callie likes it too,” you inform. One of your personal goals in life is to pass on your eclectic taste in music to your mini me. The appropriate music, of course. You never listen to anything provocative around her, even the clean versions. 

“You got her listening to this shit, too?”

Challenging him, you counter. “Would you rather her listen to Pound Town?” He shakes his head, running his hand over his beard. “That’s what I thought.”

Joe doesn’t ask you anything else, just lets you rock out to your music to help you avoid asking him the same damn question over and over again. But, you definitely do have questions that you’re absolutely asking when you see where he’s taken you. “Why the hell are we at the airport?” The bastard doesn’t say anything, and you start to repeat your question when he pulls around and you see it. 

“Joe, is that a fucking jet? You have a jet? We’re getting on a jet?” The questions keep rolling out as you find yourself unable to rip your eyes away from it. You’ve been on a plane before, but never a private jet. 

“No, we’re going to stare at it.” 

Your mind is a million and one places. Just what does this man have planned?

Jumping, you realize he’s not only parked, exited the vehicle, but is standing at your side of the car, door open. “Come on.” 

Angrily unbuckling your seatbelt, you jump out the car and continue to press him for answers. 

“Don’t get smart with me when I’m panicking. An actual jet? Where the hell are you taking us? Siberia?” He doesn’t say anything, just moves closer to you and places a hand behind your neck. 

“Do you trust me?”

You’re not sure if you’ve ever actually asked yourself that question, but interestingly enough, the answer is a no-brainer. 

“Of course.”

“Then shut up and come on.”

________

“We could have just gone to a local restaurant.”

Joe finally caved a bit and informed you that he was taking you to a restaurant out of town but within the same state. That was it. But, it was something, and it made you feel a little bit better about sitting here with him on a jet without a clue as to what’s going on.

“Why? So our waiter can be your ex-fiance?” You roll your eyes and decide against telling him the best restaurant in town is owned by your high school coach’s brother. “I’m tired of sharing you.” His strong arms are around you as he nuzzles his face into your neck. Because of course you’re sitting on his lap, the only “seat” he allowed you to use. “Want you to myself….”

Hands on his forearms, your eyes shut as you try to allow yourself to enjoy this. To enjoy him. He’s obviously gone to great lengths to make tonight special for the both of you, so the least you can do is be appreciative and try to enjoy the ride. A small smile on your lip, you taunt, “Callie might have something else to say about that.”

Just the mention of his daughter brings a smile to Joe’s face and yours too. Seeing how much he loves her gives you such peace and satisfaction. “What does she want for Christmas, by the way?”

Scoffing, you answer, smartly, “well, considering you’ve already bought her half of Toys-r-Us inventory, I’m not sure if there’s anything left for her to want.”

He’s unconvinced. “There has to be something. What did you get her?”

“Just random stuff, dolls, more art supplies.” To be honest, you’ve been so busy with everything else that much of your Christmas shopping still hasn’t happened. A rarity since you’re usually meticulous with these things, needing to know what paycheck they’re going to come out of, really. “I mean, the big thing is obviously Disney. That’s on every list: Christmas, birthday, Easter, Chinese new year.”

“Disney world?” He clarifies.

Nodding, you explain, “yup, but of course, because she’s our kid and too smart for her own good, she learned about the different parts like animal kingdom, epcot, and now she wants to see them all.” You’ll never forget the day she came running into your room, jumping on your bed, screaming, “there’s more, mommy! Lots more!”

“I’ve tried to explain I have to save for that, especially since I would want to take my mom with me, but she’s so young, she doesn’t understand it's either Disney, or we have a place to live.” Truth be told, you’ve always wanted to go to Disney too. So did your grandma. And the plan was to go for your high school graduation. Obviously….that never happened.

Your grandma passed away before you all had the chance. 

“I’ll take her. I’ll take all of you.” 

Sitting up, your brows furrow as you clarify, “shit, no. Joe, I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to ask you—”

“I know you weren’t. You’re too stubborn for that.” He’s not wrong, his finger moving up and down your side as he continues. “She wants to go. I’m sure you do too and your mom. I can make it happen, so let me make it happen.”

You hear what he’s saying, you really do, but considering you’ve sat down and cranked out the numbers for what this would cost, just for one person, it makes you almost nauseous to think how much he’d have to fork up.

Joe’s exceptionally well at reading you, speaking again. “I’m gonna say something, and I know you’re gonna push back, because like I said,  you’re stubborn as hell, but I’m gonna say it anyway because that don’t change shit.”

You eye him, skeptically. “I’m already annoyed,”

“Money is something you never have to worry about, especially if it’s for Callie.” You open your mouth to protest, but he lifts his hand to silence you. “I’ve got you, and I’ve got her. Whether you want me to or not.”

It’s such a strange shift, traveling from this mindset where you are the sole financial provider for your child to having a partner who has more money than he knows what to do with and doesn’t mind spending it to make your child happy. To make you happy. 

“Let me do something for my daughter.”

He’s got you there, even if he’s done so much already. You’ve already denied him so much more. Why add to the list? “Okay.” There’s no support for an argument. Who are you to try to get in the way of a father fulfilling his daughter’s lifelong dream? Sure, you could probably make it happen eventually, but time waits for no one. And you can’t really fault Joe. He just wants to do something nice for her daughter. “But….but not Christmas. Her birthday, maybe?”

This seems to work for him as well as he nods in agreement, probably thinking of the benefit to having more time to arrange being away from work.

Joe does an excellent job distracting you for the rest of the ride, which ends up being relatively short, definitely not as long as you expected. Granted, nothing so far has been what you expected, especially when a driver picks you up from the airport and transports you to this top secret location.

Hand in his, Joe leads you inside the building that’s revealed to be a restaurant of some sort. Gracefully decorated and almost entirely empty. 

Touched, you ask in a soft voice, “you rented out a restaurant for us?” 

He glides his thumb over your knuckles and brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently. “Not exactly.” 

“Joe, is that you?” 

A voice calls out, and he answers back with a yes.

Confused, you watch an older black woman with salt and pepper hair emerge from the back of the restaurant, wearing one of the friendliest smiles you’ve ever seen. You study her, wondering why she looks so familiar. 

“There you are,” she greets, clapping her hands on her apron. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

“Sorry, we’re late,” he apologies and releases your hand to bend down and hug this woman. Separating, he looks at you, introducing, “Joyce, this is Y/N.” Taking your hand again, he explains, “baby, this is—”

“Joyce Green,” you finish for him. “Oh my goodness, my mom and I watch your show.” 

Joyce and Dennis Green.

Known as the culinary king and queen throughout your state. They have a chain of restaurants that stretch over the south, a successful cookware line, and television show that’s been atop the charts for years. Arguably, the most successful, African-American couple in this part of the culinary world. 

Suddenly a bit starstruck, you offer your hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

She looks at you and waves off your offer. “Baby, I’m a hugger.” Laughing, you accept her warm hug as she pulls back and assesses you. “You just a pretty little thing, ain’t you?” She compliments, and you’ve never felt so validated in your life. There’s just something about compliments from older black women that heal the soul. Her eyes shift to Joe. “And you….my Lord, he took his time with this one.”

Biting your lip, you agree, “sure did.” 

Joe chuckles and says, “thank you for agreeing to this again.” 

“Of course. My grandbaby still talks about your make-a-wish visit. It’s our honor to have you here.” You say nothing but realize this is how he knows them, how he arranged for whatever this is. She claps her hands together and asks, “now what would you say is your level of experience with cooking?”

It’s directed to both of you, but you answer first, “I can cook a little bit.”

Joe looks at you, brow raised before telling Joyce. “That’s not what her mom or our daughter says.”

“Ya’ll have a baby?” Her eyes light up. “Could I see a picture? If you don’t mind, that is.” Joe shakes his head and pulls out his phone, unlocking the screen which reveals not only a picture of Callie, but you as well, the two of you smiling together. 

She gasps. “Oh, she’s beautiful.” She looks between the both of you. “Perfect combination, but she has your smile.”

“Thank you.” Anyone saying anything nice about your Callie always lands a genuine grin on your face. “It’s the dimples,” you add.

“Joyce, are you in there talking a hole in them people’s heads?” Another voice enters the room, and you see an older black man also wearing an apron around them. Dennis. This is Dennis.

Joyce sucks her teeth. “Oh hush, you old fool.” She beckons him over, and he shares a quick hug with Joe before her eyes rest on you. Joyce introduces, “this is his girlfriend. Ain’t she pretty?”

“Sure is,” Dennis agrees, shaking your hand. “Pleasure to meet you, young lady.”

Your focus is partially on the conversation at hand but also on how she introduced you. 

Girlfriend. 

You’ve never once considered yourself that to Joe, even in being with him for three years. It always felt wrong and invalid. Because of his wife.

But, she’s out of the picture now.

What reason is there for there not to be a label between the two of you?

Shaking your head, you try to return to the present. 

This is ending up being so much more than just a date.

________

“How long have ya’ll been together?” 

You’re in the midst of mincing garlic when Joyce asks her question. 

This wasn’t just a dinner date. It was a private cooking lesson with thee Joyce and Dennis Green. Not many things made you giddy, but this was definitely one of them. 

Thinking on her question, you realize it’s something you’ve never thought about and thus have no idea how to answer. Because just how does one quantify your relationship? Can you even count the three years you were actually together when he was legally married to someone else? 

Joe, conversely, has no difficulty answering.

“Almost eight years.”

Joyce glances at your left hand. “How much time you need to make up your mind, young man?”

“Oh, Joyce, leave them kids alone,” Dennis chides, carefully chopping up the onions. “Let em’ do what they want.”

“I’m just saying, you already have a child together,” she continues, asking, “What’s stopping you from taking the next step?”

“Uhhh, we, we’ve had some ups and downs,” you answer, hoping the change in tone will indicate this is a sensitive subject.

“I see, well….” You can tell she’s trying to carefully choose her words, and you’re grateful for that thoughtfulness and respect. “All things considered, you seem to have found your way back to one another, so that has to mean something.”

Her words resonate deeply. She’s right. Yes, obviously Callie will always bound you to Joe in some sort of capacity, but countless people co–parent without being together. However, that doesn't seem to be the case with the two of you, something tethers you together. 

And it’s not just the child you share together.

The four of you work together to prepare your meal with Joyce and Dennis having to be extra patient with you, because Joe of all trades over there excels without the need of much help. It’s annoying how he’s just naturally good at so many things. 

At one point, Joyce gently whispers to you, “some people just don’t got it, baby, and you don’t. That’s okay.”

Of course, Joe hears this, and you have to stop yourself from flipping him off. Instead, you settle for mouthing asshole.

The entire process takes about an hour, and when the meals are finished, you’re surprised to find that Joyce and Dennis move to a separate room to eat. It’s not something that entirely bothers you though. You enjoy your alone time with Joe. And it allows you the space to briefly FaceTime Callie in the middle of your meal to tell her goodnight, an absolute must. 

Not even just for you anymore, but Joe too. 

She has to see and speak to the both of you before she can fall asleep.

You can’t wait for her to find out the truth. 

Stealing off Joe’s plate, you quickly realize that while your food came out fine, his is delicious. It’s why you decide to seat yourself on his lap instead of your chair so you’re not constantly reaching over the table. 

“You done messed up your food, and now you wanna come after mine?” Ignoring him, you bring a forkful to your mouth, moaning instantly. 

Covering your mouth as you finish chewing, you exclaim, “it’s so good.”

He chuckles, hand on the small of your back. “I see I’m the one who’s gonna have to do the cooking for us.”

“Well, according to you and everyone else, I can’t cook, so—”

“You can’t, but that’s okay. I hoped this would help, but you may be beyond help—” He laughs as you shove on his chest.

“You’re such an ass….” Gaze softening, you bring your hand to his face, gripping his beard. “Thank you for this. It’s incredibly sweet.”

And you mean that. Joe didn’t have to do this, didn’t have to do any of it. But, this is just who he is, a kind, sweet, thoughtful man. It’s what makes him such an amazing father. 

An amazing partner.

He kisses your palm. “You’re welcome….”

Once the food is finished, you two spend the rest of the time just talking, laughing, enjoying each other. You could never get tired of being around this man. His energy is so warm and welcoming. You’re starting to relate more and more with Callie’s difficulty every time he leaves. This night is too short, but you wonder if you could ever have enough time to be with him.

As the night draws to a close, you two reunite with Joyce and Dennis to thank them for a wonderful evening. However, it’s the closing remarks that really sit with you. When Dennis pulls back from his hug, he whispers to you, “young lady, I’ve lived a long life, so trust me when I tell you this.” You watch him, listening intently. “A man doesn’t look at a woman the way Joe looks at you unless he’s in love.” 

Your breath catches in the back of your throat. That’s….definitely not what you expected him to say. And Joyce is no different. She holds onto you a little longer in the hug, and you’re grateful. She reminds you so much of your grandmother. 

“A little piece of advice from an old lady?” It’s almost impossible to prepare for whatever is about to leave her mouth, your mind still trying to sit on Dennis' words. “You don’t lose love by sending it away” A beat. “All you’re doing is making it grow stronger.” 

________

The rides home are more quiet than the journey there, and that’s because you’re trying to balance this heavy battle between your head and your heart. 

Your mind is all over the place. You’ve felt so conflicted since opening the door for Joe for the first time in almost five years. And you don’t regret it, far from it. Callie’s father is in her life. She has that relationship, that love with him. 

That’s all you wanted, all you expected. 

You didn’t expect for your feelings for him to resurface or his for you to be as strong as they clearly are. 

It’s such a suffocating, overwhelming experience. 

And at the same time, everything you’ve ever wanted. 

He is everything you’ve ever wanted. 

Walking into your apartment, Joe locks the door behind the two of you, always wanting to make sure you’re straight before he leaves. As he always does. 

He brings his hands to your face, concerned, asking, “what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Your eyes close, hand to his chest. 

This is too hard, too painful, too difficult. 

You can’t do it anymore.

“Fuck it.”

In a matter of seconds, your lips are on his and his hands are all over your body. It’s explosive, the both of you battling for dominance, Joe’s tongue circling around yours. You moan into his mouth, and he hikes you up on his waist. 

"Are you sure?" He breathes against your mouth and you nod fervently.

Come what may, you'll deal with it then. You need this. Need him

Gaining your consent, he skillfully guides you to your bedroom only breaking the kiss when he places you on the floor in front of the bed. “Take off your clothes.” 

His tone is authoritative, demanding, but even if it wasn't, it's not like he needs to ask twice. You squeeze yourself out of your dress, tossing it to the side. As the top was padded and shoulders out, you didn't bother with a bra. And before you can hook your fingers around your underwear to discard them, Joe tosses you on the bed, hovering over you.

He lifts his shirt over his head, and you chew on your bottom lip. This man is too fine. His strength has always been so sexy to you. As a woman on the thicker side, you’ve always needed a man who could handle you in the sheets. And Joe was more than adept in that area. 

He stares at you like you're the most precious thing he's ever had the privilege to lay his eyes on. Your stomach flutters. No ones ever been able to make you feel things like Joe can.

Its such a welcomed experience, one you've missed deeply.

“God, you’re beautiful….” 

His big hands travel your body, but it’s when he bites down on the strap of your panties and glides them down your legs that your back arches off the bed. You're already so wet, dampness coating the inside of your thighs.

You need this man more than one needs air to breathe.

“Patience, baby.” His voice is soothing on a surface level but does little to abate the fire burning through your entire body, the throbbing in your center. “Don’t I always take care of you?” When you don’t give him an answer, too busy trying to settle yourself, his hand grips your thigh. Tight. “I asked you a question.”

Swallowing, you nod, answering, “y-yes, you do.” 

Pleased with your obedience, he goes to remove his pants, and your eyes go straight to his massive bulge. You wet your lips. The moonlight shining through the window creates a backdrop of his broad shoulders, silk hair down and free. Just how you like it. 

He’s so beautiful and yours. 

Only yours.

Your hand reaches for his abs, wanting to touch him, when he captures your wrist, bringing your fingers to his mouth, sucking slowly, teasingly. 

Groaning, your head tilted back, another spasm works its way through your core. You need this man, and you need him now.

Joe detects as such and hovers over you, one rough hand grasping your breast as he glosses his lips over your clavicle. Moaning, you lift your thigh against his hip, wanting, needing some type of friction. 

He begins lining kisses down your body, lips leaving a flaming trail of desire in its wake. “Spread your legs for me, baby. And keep 'em open.” He doesn’t have to ask twice. You heed to his command, opening yourself to him. He kisses the inside of your thighs, eyes alight with desire. “Before you come on my dick, gotta taste this pretty pussy.” 

Joe makes a sound, taking his finger and swirling it around your pussy. A sticky line of your cum drips from his fingers, and you nearly come right then and there watching him suck it off. 

“Fuck,” he groans, bringing both of your legs over his shoulders, hooking them behind your knees. “Forgot how sweet you are.”

His cool breath hitting your core is the first thing you feel followed by that deliciously talented tongue taking one long swipe up your cunt. Instantly, your back is arching off the bed. That’s how sensitive you are to him, how easily your entire existence becomes focused solely on him and the insane pleasure he provides you.

The tip of Joe’s tongue swirls around your swollen, sensitive bud as he uses his other two fingers to keep your folds open, available to and for him to do whatever he wants. He plays with you, a tactic you’ve noticed he gets off on, edging you in a sense.

“Stop playing with me,” you groan, even if this feels just as good as anything else. It’s not what you want, what you need. What you need is his mouth on you, not this toying shit.

Sucking his teeth, he blows on your clit, and you hiss. “You really gon tell me how to take care of my pussy?” There’s a trace of humor in his voice as he dips one finger inside of you, smiling at the way you grip at the sheets. “Naw, baby. I know what you need.” 

And that’s when he finally does away with the teasing, locking your legs on his shoulders with his hand and buries his face into your pussy. “Shit!” It’s what you wanted, most definitely what you needed, but not what you expected. 

Fuck. He’s too good at this. 

Joe alternates with expert strokes, sucking and flicking your pussy, with a yearning and longing that’s matched only by the rapture soaring through your body. 

He eats your pussy like he does all things in life, with passion and dedication.

“Joe.” Tears burn your eyes as he continues to eat at you, rarely breaking for air and never allowing your body time to recover. He’s back to back, bringing you to climax and going right back to eating you out.

You’d forgotten how much he loved this. It’s nearly impossible to recall how many times this man has had his face in between your legs, but you could most definitely count how many times he’d let you return the favor. Joe didn’t care much about receiving. He was a pleaser, through and through.

“Baby, please, I can’t—I—-“ and it’s a waste of time because every inch up the bed is met with his strong hands on your hips, tugging you closer. Even as you cum, hard, nearly convulsing off the mattress, he stays sucking your pussy, lapping every bit of it up as his tongue circles your sensitive bud.

You’re not sure when he finally comes up, just that it’s after at least two orgasms. Maybe three. Keeping count with Joe is always a waste of time, because it’s always going to be several.  Panting, eyes fluttering, you take in the sight of him. His beard is wet, glistening with the result of his expert work. “I love eating this pussy.” His finger swirls and plays around with the absolute drenched mess you’ve made. “but I need you to come on my dick now.”

There’s a bit of dissociation in the next few minutes. He’s tongue fucked all of your five senses out of you that it’s only when you realize he’s got you on your hands and knees, dick teasing your soaked entrance that you're aware of what's about to happen. 

“Wait.” Your breath is haggard, voice drained from only this man’s tongue. This. This is the shit he does to you. This is why it took so long for you to let him go all those years ago. It’s the same reason you don’t think you’ll ever be able to let him go. Not after this. “I need—you gotta let me adjust, Joe.”

Joe’s dick is thick, long, and curved. The best you’ve ever had, but it’s been years since you last had him, so he has to take it easy on you, allow you time to accommodate him.

“You can take this dick, baby,” he encourages, pushing down on the top of your back until your cheek is pressed into the pillow, back arched perfectly. “And you always will.”

His tip nudges your sticky, gushy opening, starting a slow entrance that has your hands fisting. Inch by inch, he enters you, jaw clenching at how tightly your cunt clenches him. 

It’s been too long since he’s been inside you.  

“Oh my god.” You’d forgotten this, forgotten the delicious stretch of him inside of you, forgotten how deep he could go, touching you, reaching you in all the areas no one else could. And you had tried. God, you tried. Had your hookups, but no one was checking Joe’s box when it came to length, girth, and skill. And that tongue. Fuck, Joe ate your pussy like you were his last supper every single time.

Never a miss.

He doesn’t need to ask if you’re good. Joe sees the way you back your ass onto him, eager for him to fuck you like only he knows how to.

And he obliges. 

He slams into you with a force that has you wanting to scream out bloody murder. He feels so damn good inside of you. He stretches you so good, and you take him just as well.

“You on the pill?” He suddenly asks, slowing the speed and force of his thrusts, watching and enjoying your moans as he cruelly teases you, halting at your entrance before gradually re-entering. He’s playing with you, and it’s both blissful and miserable. 

Whining, you manage to answer, “fuck—n—no.”

“Good.” You shout when he slams back into you with such force that you reach for the headboard, needing something to keep you leveled. “Gonna fill you up with my cum.”

“Joe….” His words register, but it’s hard to think straight with this man fucking you so good. Shit, you missed this. “We—” You’re cut off again when he reaches in front of you, hand ghosting over your pussy, index finger circling your clit. “We ca—”

“I’m not pulling out.” He groans above you, the way your shit grips him. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“You’re just big,” you counter and cry out when he slides out of you and slams at a different angle that has your big breast slapping against your chest. “Shit, Joe.”

“Can he fuck you how I can?” For a second, you’re confused cause who the fuck is he talking about? There’s only one person that exists in your world right now, and that’s the man blowing your back out. “Answer me,” he demands, bringing a hand down on your ass. 

You cry out, “no, baby.” Your eyes water. He’s so deep in you. “N–no one fucks me like you do.” 

“Exactly,” he continues to play with your clit as you work hard not to let your entire apartment building know you’re getting your entire insides rearranged. “Your moans are for me,” he slows down momentarily, no doubt enjoying the view of his thick dick sliding in and out of you, coated in your cream. “You scream out my name.” 

“Yes, baby,” you whimper. You and Joe have fucked plenty of times, but this is different. There’s a meaning in every word that leaves his mouth, an oath behind every declaration. You know that after tonight, there is no turning back. 

“You’re mine,” he growls, big hands moving to the small of your back, holding you down and against the bed as he rams into you, determined and focused. “You’ve always been mine.”

Tears burn your eyes when he suddenly yanks you up by your hair, pulling your body flush against his. His hair fans part of your face, mouth pressed against your temple. “I can take care of you. Take care of this pussy. You don’t need nobody but me.”

Reaching your hand behind to caress his scalp, you murmur, head laid back against him. “I don’t want anybody but you.”

There’s something about your words, so vulnerable, so sincere. With a gentleness that’s contrasted all of his fucking thus far, he pulls out of you and lays you on your back. A whimper leaves your mouth at the loss of him inside of you only for him to move his body over yours and lift your legs to his waist. He sinks into you again, and you moan together, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he finds a pace that pleases the both of you.

Ankles locking above his ass, you enjoy the different kind of depth this allows. People shit on missionary, but it’s one of your favorite positions with Joe. It’s a level of connectedness and togetherness that makes you feel so close to him. Like you two are one and the same. 

“You're so good for me,” he continues to talk you through it, tears streaming down your face as he repeatedly thrusts against your g-spot. “So fucking good around me, fucking made for me.”

His words send you over the edge.

Hands on his face, forcing him to meet your gaze, you encourage, gently, “come with me.” He looks at you, and you know. You just know that there's not much, if anything, you could ask that he wouldn't do for you.

His thrusts become more uncontrolled, erratic, and that’s how you know it’s coming, building up until there’s a blinding white light behind your eyes, toes curling and head rocking back against the pillow. Joe is not far behind, staying true to his promise as he empties inside of you every bit of his cum until there’s nothing left.

Joe doesn’t move from off you, doesn’t remove himself from inside of you, instead his body rests on top of yours. Panting, you bring your hands to his scalp, nails gently raking through his hair as he lays against your chest, muttering, “let me stay like this in you for a little bit.”

You don’t want him to move anyway, don’t want him to go anywhere. You never did, just followed what you felt and believed was right. Joyce’s wise words from earlier suddenly return to the forefront of your mind. 

“You don’t lose love by sending it away. All you're doing is making it grow stronger.” 

That’s never felt and rang more true than in this moment.

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 1: The Laws of Humans and Elves

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 2.9k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧notes: a short part to introduce the world and get started. I am super excited to start rolling out the chapters I have been working on. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ on a sun-blessed day, you happen upon a new companion.

The darkness came from the rot of the world. At the very least, that is the superstition. It followed centuries after the wrecking chaos that threatened to crack the very stone of the world and cast all those living down to hell. The earth had been fighting for millennia, with elves and humans slaughtering one another; the Great War. Their reason for fighting had been lost to time. It had not mattered anymore, for the malice held between them was enough to bear rot in the roots of their history. Such chaos and death must anger the gods, for violence was their language - to exact on the land of the living, not for the living to exact upon one another. 

A stalemate happened after each side bore the cost of life beyond that which should be possible. Peace, however fickle, was forged and laid in a treaty between the humans and elves. It was unstable, but so long as it was upheld, the world could know peace. Children could know their parents, families could stick together, cities could rebuild, and meaningless fighting could be put to rest. Meadows and tracts of land grew back and birds chirped once again. The fields, once littered with the corpses of slain kin, bloomed with flowers once again.

It took six centuries before that peace was destroyed. The taint came from an unknown source. Some claim humans started it, others say it was the elves; each wishing to push prejudice against the other. Many say it is the wrath of whichever god or gods they follow. A curse put upon the earth to punish them for their bloodshed. It could be a twisted act to kill them and purify the world, or perhaps bring hell from below and judge them before their deaths. 

The opinions of gods did not matter to you. What mattered - truly - was fighting back against the twisted black darkness that crawled across the land, wilting plants and killing all known life. It tainted water and invaded lands, crawling through the world map like unkempt ivy. You were determined that there was a resolution. This was not some wrath from the gods, but simply a fight against the same darkness humans and elves inflicted against one another. A manifestation of sin. 

That was how you found yourself, each day, kept in your lodgings in an old town by the borders between the human kingdom and the domain of elves. It was a proper place to be, for the taint spread by a half-day ride away, easily accessible for experiments. It was also favourable, for you could not live in your old home deep in the kingdom. You grew up being raised by your father there, had forged the purest of memories. Yet they died with his disappearance. 

Five years he had been gone and since then you had diligently taken over his work after moving. It was a peaceful life, albeit frustrating. With each passing day insecurity seized your body. Your research had been inadequate and experiments even more so. The darkness spread, and fields of flowers, forests of trees, and lakes of plenty suffered further. The landscape around had died where it was touched. You had been failing and no progress had been made. 

It was in the darkest hours of the night you found yourself staring at the roof of your cottage, contemplating the meaning of your existence. Surely, if you were as brilliant as your father, a cure would have been found. The effort you put into it, the pain and tirelessness, could not be for naught. 

In the small hamlet you were in, the land still bore beauty. It was in that sight where you held your inspiration. Those creeping moments of doubt would clash against your hope like saltwater on rock; wearing the stone down through time. The world was worth saving and you would be damned if you sat back and watched it collapse. 

So, like most days, you find yourself working. It was late noon as you approached the edge of the sprawling meadow outside the village. You were on the border of the kingdom between humans and elves, and it was here where you could find a good growing of nettles. It was outside the thick canopy of forest that you found growing on the edge of the meadow close to your home. You had just approached when the sound of faint crying made its way to you. 

The sobs were of a girl and you looked back and forth to see if you could spot the person. It was gentle weeping that spurred you to move. You began to trail along the edge of the forest in search of the source. Your gaze swept over the dark branches of trees, unease settling in your bones.

After a few moments of walking, you looked into the trees to see a woman with her back to you. She was on the ground in a dirtied light green dress. Her hair cascaded down her back, light and silvery, with some of it in a braid crown across her head. Her shoulders shook and from what you could see, she cradled her left forearm in distress. 

You knew it was forbidden, for a human to cross into elvish territory uninvited, but you could not walk away after seeing someone hurt. You looked around for anyone else and saw nothing. A breath caught in your throat as you stepped into the tree line, foot crunching on the branches below. You waited for a moment for the worst to happen; some archer waiting to shoot you or a bunch of guards to descend upon you, but you saw nothing. 

Deeming it safe, you moved forward to the woman. 

“Hello? Are you alright?” You kept your voice at a low volume so as not to startle her. However, your abrupt words shocked her and she turned to you. Tear tracks ran down her reddened cheeks. You were thrown slightly off guard at her appearance. You had heard of the elvish characteristic of perfect beauty, but you had not been witness to it until that very moment. 

Her crystal blue eyes reflected the greenery around her. You could see some blood on her forearm that seeped from the gaps in her hand that cradled the wound. 

“I got lost…” Her voice trailed off for a minute. “And I tripped.” She looked down at her wound and removed her hand. On the top part of her forearm was a sizable cut. The surrounding area had gotten dirty and you knew it had to be cleaned soon. Being a healer, your instincts kicked in. 

You knelt down, but kept your distance to not invade her space, “I can take care of that cut. It needs to be cleaned.” 

She seemed to look at you in a clearer light after wiping away her tears. Her good arm rose to point at your ears, silently acknowledging that they were not shaped in the familiar point of an elf. You reached up and covered them subconsciously with a feeling of inadequacy. 

“Look, I'm a healer in my village. All of my supplies are at home. Would you… would you come with me?” You knew it was a shot-in-the-dark question, but your more nurturing trait took over at seeing someone hurt. You wanted to help her by any means that you could. The shattered relationship between your respective kinds meant nothing to you, for old grudges were nothing but pointless. This was a being that needed help, which you were capable of giving. 

“I don't want to be a burden…” Her voice was light and spacey. She seemed to have an air of lightness to her. An uncommon trait of pure brightness came from her, mixed with the calming feeling of a babbling brook. Her presence mimicked the gentle nature of the environment around her. 

“You aren’t. I promise.” You slowly got up from your crouching position. Your hands were held up to show no ill will. She looked at you for a moment, judging the situation. You could tell otherworldly works were happening in her mind - a keen elf sense of analyzing your character. 

She sniffled, “I’m Helaena.” Her grip tightened on the wound, no doubt experiencing more pain as her adrenaline wore off. 

You offer a friendly smile and introduce yourself. You adjusted the skirt of your dress and nodded towards the direction of the meadow. The rustling of the dark trees had begun to make you wary and uncomfortable. Tales of these woods, and the elves that lurk within are not always kind. You briefly remembered moments around campfires, men trading stories of old. Most of them were lost on you to time, but the stories of the elf king stuck; his sadistic tendencies and inability to refrain from striking down any who so much as bothered him. You by no means wished to be on the receiving end of his wrath, lest you be caught. 

“My home is only a short walk from here.” Your words seem to spur Helaena and she rose to her feet carefully. She kept a few paces away from you when following behind. Once you walked past the edge of the trees and into the tall grass of the meadow, she stopped. Helaena's gaze swept back and forth as if looking for a trap. She took a hesitant step forward and it was like going through a threshold and becoming comfortable with her surroundings. 

Helaena matched your pace as the two of you trekked through the field. You wished to be discreet, for you did not want to know how people would react upon seeing an elf in their territory. You struggled to come up with any conversation starters as social skills were not among your talents. Especially when the woman beside you was an elf, likely leagues ahead in wisdom and experience through age. You felt inadequate next to her beauty. 

Thankfully, your cottage was nestled away from the rest of the town, over a hill that shielded it from curious gazes. It was a single-level home, with enough room for a decent-sized bedroom, kitchen, and living space. The living space was taken over by your study materials. Books stacked with loose pieces of parchment with notes aplenty. Countless vials and tubes full of different substances were neatly organized across two wooden tables. Some of the tubes were over small lit fires, bubbling with substances you were experimenting with.

You gestured for her to sit on a sofa placed in front of the hearth. Her eyes darted to everything around her, especially on the countless plants that littered every inch of available space. Your home was a fusion of messy and organized. Everything had its place, but it was a collection of different items that gave an eclectic feeling. 

You grabbed some supplies for the wound and set them down on the low table by the couch. There was uncertainty that lingered in your mind. In the few minutes you had known Helaena, you could tell she had an aversion towards people; though you could not tell if that was because of your humanness or not. Regardless of the answer, you would respect her wishes.

“Can I sit there?” You pointed to the spot beside her and waited for an answer. She nodded silently and you slowly sat down. When you found yourself on the plush cushion, you looked towards her wound. “May I?” 

Helaena nodded again. She lifted her hand to reveal the wound. It was still bleeding but had slowed down by her putting pressure on it. You took a dish of water and a clean cloth. You rung it out and placed the damp material on the wound, gently wiping the blood away. While you diligently worked, you decided to see if you could break the ice more. Helaena appeared interested in the items around her.

“I’m working on a cure for the taint. That’s why this place is a bit of a mess, sorry for that.” You began, “I also keep insects, so I apologize if any happen to land upon you.” At the word insects, Helaena’s eyes lit up and she sat straighter. 

“What kind?” She asked. You noticed that this was the most relaxed she has been since meeting her. The wound was clean and you assessed that it was not nearly big enough for any stitching. You applied your own poultice to the wound and began to wrap it in a light linen cloth. 

“Whatever I tend to find, really. Butterflies, crickets, beetles, spiders, and dragonflies are the ones that I see the most.” You answered while securing the cloth. You backed up on the couch afterwards, giving her more space. She breathed more at that and you were glad your actions could ease her. 

You got out of the seat and walked towards one of the desks. You grabbed a decent-sized wooden cage. It had two newborn dragonflies that you cultivated recently. You brought it back to where Helanea sat and handed it over to her. A small smile made its way onto her face as she peered in at the little creatures. 

It was an impulse decision, but you made it anyway. 

“You can keep them.” At your words, Helaena looked up at you. She had a hopeful look in her eyes. Her eyes darted between you and the creatures. You nodded in assurance, reinforcing your decision. 

“Think of it as a gift of friendship.” You spoke. Your newfound companion seemed to light up further and you found great pleasure in making her happy. It had been so long since you had spent quality time with anyone. 

“Friends?” Helaena questioned you. She sat the cage on her lap and gave you her full attention. You suddenly got nervous, thinking that perhaps you overstepped. 

“We don’t have to be,” You stuttered out, “It can just be a sign of goodwill.” You wanted to clarify your meaning. You felt awkward having shoved that status upon Helaena and you were anticipating her swift leave of your company. It would not be a surprise, as most often people tended to sway away from you after speaking. You could hardly last a conversation with someone. 

“I would like to be friends,” Helaena told you. Your heart swelled with happiness. She would be the first friend you had in a long while. You knew this would be the only time you would see her, for interactions between humans and elves were limited to the occasional diplomat from each kingdom going to high courts. The rest - common folk - were forbidden from entering one another’s territory. It was a rule drawn to prevent fighting between groups and entering another war that would no doubt kill more than the last, especially with the growing acres of taint spreading indiscriminately and destroying everything in its wake. 

Helaena held the dragonfly cage in her hands and stood up from her seat. She swayed slightly, eyes darting back and forth. 

“I have to go home. My family… they will be looking for me.” You nodded at her words and got out of your seat as well. It was disheartening, for her to leave so soon, but you did not wish to bother her anymore. You moved to the door and opened it. 

“I’ll walk you back.” The two of you walked outside into the warm sunny weather. The sounds of crickets and the breeze through tall grass calmed you. The walk towards the forest was short, and you wanted it to be longer. 

Helaena seemed to look back down at the cage every once in a while and smiled to herself. She cradled it like it was the most precious thing. Parts of her green dress had gotten dirty on the bottom, but the craft of the elves stunned you with their intricate work. 

When you two got to the forest edge, she turned around to face you. 

“Why did you help me?” Helaena’s question caught you off guard. There was no real answer. You had simply saw someone in distress and wished to help them. There was no reason other than the simple will to aid when you could. 

“I just wanted to help. It's what I am good at.” You reassured. It was the whole truth. All your life, you had fumbled at many things; been unsure and made mistakes. However, healing was something you excelled at. It was disheartening that you were yet to find a cure for the taint that spread, but you knew deep down that there was a solution and you had to try. 

“I hope your research goes well.” Helaena addressed. Your heart warmed at her kindness. 

“Thank you. I hope you get better soon.” 

Your meeting and subsequent bond forged was not a common one. Humans and elves having interactions were few, even fewer when they found commonality with one another. You had no doubt, that with more exposure to one another, the kinds could get along. There were great differences in culture, but the truth still came. Your races were living and breathing, inhabited the same world, and forged deep bonds and care for others. That alone was enough, at least to you. 

It was there, standing on each side of the invisible territorial line of the kingdoms, that a human and an elf built a connection of friendship; careless to whether or not it lasted, for the future was uncertain.

Chapter 2: A Modest Proposition Preview

He rose from the throne and manoeuvred down the steps to stand a metre in front of you, each step echoed through the hall. His lone gaze fell ladden on your cheek, heavy and hot with inner ire. Your voice got stuck in your throat and you glanced towards Helaena to ask for any form of help. Aemond held his head high while his stare looked you up and down and released a low hum. In his inspection, you felt as if he could see every action you had ever made, every sin, and went about judging as he saw fit. 

As a judge, jury, and executioner.

Would you all be interested in previews at the end of each chapter?

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[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Moving on to You

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: Aaron finally tells his longtime crush about his feelings when he almost loses her (Sequel to Move On)

Warning: jealousy, pining, awkward dates, canon level violence, non-accurate medical stuff

Word Count: 4.5K

Masterlist

A/N I've had this in my drafts for months and I finally decided to finish and publish it per request

Aaron Hotchner is the definition of levelheaded. He’s renowned in the FBI not only for his success rate at catching criminals but also for his professionalism. And snapping a pencil with his fist whilst staring at his subordinate through his office window as she smiled up at an unknown agent was incredibly unprofessional. He knew this wasn’t the first man she had gotten to know over the past year but this was the first time he was forced to actually witness her flirting with another man.

He knew he had no right to be jealous, their relationship had never progressed beyond friendly in the year that Y/N had been on the team. Still he couldn’t help but feel the slight clench of pain in his chest every time he saw her smile at her phone or overheard one of her conversations with another team member about a new guy.

Nonetheless his professionalism prevailed as he began to review potential cases. He noted one regarding a serial killer just outside of DC, setting it aside to pass onto Garcia.

~

The next morning the team was assembled in the conference room as Penelope relayed the information about a killer who had been targeting strippers. Although Aaron’s attention was on Y/N as he observed her clearly exhausted body language. Probably a date night with that agent, he thought cynically.

Soon enough Penelope was done speaking. “We’ll head out in 30. Meet in the garage then,” he ordered as the rest of the team. He was headed out towards his office when he stopped as he heard Morgan’s voice.

“Up late with the new boy toy?” Derek teased.

“I guess you could say that,” Y/N answered casually. “I’m not seeing him anymore.”

“Wait why?” JJ asked suddenly. Similar to what Aaron wanted to ask.

He was still turned away from the group but Aaron could practically hear Y/N’s shrug. “Just weren’t clicking anymore.”

“What was he into something weird? Like a foot fetish?” Derek asked with full seriousness.

Y/N laughed. “I’m not answering that.”

“So he was!” Derek shouted as she passed Aaron down to the bullpen.

The rest filed out of the conference room as Aaron continued to pretend to be busy with the file. “She’s single again,” Rossi sung quietly.

“I am aware and I don’t see how that affects me,” Aaron tried to deflect.

“Oh come on, I see the way you watch her. I also noticed a broken pencil in your trash can. Did you Hulk-out when you saw her with that agent yesterday?”

“Wait why were you in my office?”

“Doesn’t matter. The point is she’s single, you’re single, and you’ve been in love with her for the past year-”

“No I haven’t,” Aaron suddenly cut in, sounding like a teenage girl. He cleared his throat. “I’m not in love with her. Besides she’s my subordinate-”

“And you don’t want anyone to think she’s on the team for the wrong reason blah, blah, blah,” Rossi finished. “You said that a year ago. Besides, at this point, no one would think that. You deserve to be happy, Aaron. Get out there and get the girl!”

With those words Dave left, leaving Aaron in his thoughts. Could they actually be together? Would she even want him?

He pushed those thoughts aside, getting ready to head out with the rest of his team. Including the girl who consumed his every thought.

~

“I’m SSA Hotchner, these are SSAs Jareau, Morgan, Rossi, L/N, Prentiss, and Dr. Reid,” Aaron introduced his team to the town’s sheriff.

“We appreciate you guys coming so fast. The people here aren’t used to this type of crime,” Sheriff Osborne explained, leading the feds through the police station.

Aaron tried to listen to the sheriff’s information but rather he was keenly aware of all the police officers stares. Pushing through it, the agents followed the sheriff into a conference room that would serve as their setup.

“Alright, JJ and Reid, head to the medical examiner. We need to figure out what exactly he’s doing to these girls. Morgan and I will go to the clubs these girls were working, see if there was anyone who stuck out to the other dancers. Rossi and Prentiss, head to the most recent crime scene. L/N, I want you to work on the geographical profile,” Aaron ordered.

That last order raised an eyebrow for everyone on the team. “But… Reid usually does the geographical profile,” Y/N suggested gently, a confused twinge in her voice.

“Yes, well since it seems you can’t stop talking about your personal life I figured it’d be best if you work alone for a little while.” The second those words left Aaron’s mouth he instantly regretted them. Y/N looked taken aback by his rude words but having never questioned his authority she just lowered her gaze to the ground. Looking around the other members of his team looked aghast at his words too. Aaron’s soft spot for the newest agent had been noticed by everyone on the team (except of course the agent in question) so seeing him be so outrightly rude was jarring. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, especially not humiliate her in front of the team, but he was so frustrated having to hear the others question Y/N on her love life around the office and in the car.

Seeing that he shouldn’t continue barking orders, Aaron turned to exit the room, the rest following. Unseen by him was every member of the team giving Y/N sympathetic looks.

Once buckled inside their SUV, Morgan began to question his boss. “What was that with L/N back there? We all talk about our personal lives all the time and it’s never affected our work, Y/N included.”

Aaron sighed, really not having a good reason for his outburst. “She brought that agent into our office unauthorized. He shouldn’t have even had access to our floor.”

“So you yell at her a day later in front of an entire precinct?”

“Morgan, drop it,” Aaron said sternly, not wanting to continue this. Seeing as there was no point in continuing, Derek kept his mouth shut but the ride to the club was tense the rest of the way.

~

“Hey, sorry about your boss,” a voice interrupted Y/N’s intense concentration on the map in front of her. She whipped her head around to look at him, a little startled. Seeing her alarm the young officer took a step back. “Didn’t mean to scare you, just thought you might like some coffee.”

“Hmm? Oh! Thanks,” she said, her brain catching up to his words. She took the coffee gratefully, taking a sip. It was made wrong but not wanting to seem ungrateful she gave the officer a smile.

“Thought you could use it after your boss treated you so badly,” the officer empathized.

Y/N sucked in a breath. “You saw that, huh?”

“I think everyone saw it,” the officer chuckled awkwardly. “I’m Officer Olson, but you can call me Cole.” Y/N took a second to observe the man. He wasn’t necessarily her type, her having a thing for the dark, brooding types, but he was certainly attractive.

“Agent Y/N L/N,” she introduced.

“So what are you working on, Agent Y/N L/N?” he asked, saying her name flirtatiously.

She let out a small laugh at his tone. “Um it’s called a geographical profile. We take every significant location like homes, workplaces, abduction sights, crime scene, disposal sights, etc. to get an idea of these killers comfort zones. Which often leads us to where they will either strike next, where they live or work, or what their holding place might be in cases where victims are abducted.”

“Wow, this profiling stuff is crazy. I’ve heard you guys can tell someone’s entire life story from just one look,” he teased.

“I don’t know about that but yeah, you can learn a lot about a person from just a conversation if you pay close attention.”

“What can you tell about me?”

Y/N looked him up and down. His body language screamed that he was interested in her but she didn’t want to embarrass him too much. “You have the confidence of a youngest son and let me guess, you were in a frat in college?” The officer blushed, surprised she sussed that out so quickly. “You’re here as an officer for glory and you got it, the people here already admire you. You actually got the chance to move onto something bigger, probably DC, but it’s easier to stand out in your small hometown.” Cole just stared at the pretty FBI agent, slightly mortified that she saw through him so clearly. His first instinct was deny it but something about her made him think twice. She just smirked at his silence. “Gotcha.”

Before Officer Olson could say anything, two other FBI agents walked into the room. “Careful L/N,” Rossi interrupted the pair, “Hotch was pulling up as we walked in.”

“Guess I better go,” Cole said sheepishly. “Nice to meet you Agent Y/N.” She couldn’t help the smile that found it’s way onto her face at the use of her title and first name.

“Damn, already moving onto a different guy?” Emily asked with a chuckle.

“No, he just came in and introduced himself,” Y/N brushed off. Emily and Rossi both just hummed in disagreement.

As the BAU chief walked in he didn’t notice the burning gaze of Officer Olson. What he did notice was the way Y/N seemed to shy away from his very presence. As he stepped into the conference room his heart clenched when she met his gaze but just turned away, busying herself with the board that showed the geographical profile.

~

After a fitful night of regret, Aaron decided to apologize to his young agent in the morning. But as he opened his door to his crappy motel room into the crappy hallway he could hear two voices.

“Thought I’d bring you some coffee that didn’t come from an old police station coffee pot,” a masculine voice flirted.

“Thank you,” came the giggle from Y/N. Aaron practically groaned to himself. This couldn’t be happening again.

“I was wondering… if you’re not too busy,” the voice changed, gaining a nervous lilt, “if you’d like to get dinner with me on a slower night before you and your team leave? I know you’re actively chasing a serial killer so it doesn’t have to be fancy.” The voice seemed to have caught themselves, changing their pitch. “O-or it can be really fancy! Whatever you want! I’m not picky I-”

“I’d love to have dinner with you,” Y/N’s calming voice interrupted, putting the boy out of his misery. “We can do tonight. Just grab something easy and nearby.”

“Ye- yeah, I’d like that.” Aaron internally rolled his eyes at being able to hear the bright smile in this guy’s voice. “I’ll uh see you then.”

“See you later.” Aaron sighed internally, hearing the door to Y/N’s room close softly. She had been single for what? 24hours? And he had still lost his opportunity? Deciding that his emotions were running too high to talk to Y/N right now, he just let his door fall back closed, deciding to just get ready for the day.

~

“When I graduated from the FBI academy I was placed in the Human Resources branch because of my psych degree. Obviously, that wasn’t exactly what I wanted to do so when I heard about an opening in the Behavioral Analysis Unit I jumped at it and fortunately my boss, Hotch, was willing to take a chance on me. Agent Rossi and the rest of the team pretty much taught me everything I know,” Y/N explained as her date stared at her in awe.

“Wow, that’s quite the resume you have,” he chuckled nervously, taking a sip of his drink. “I’ll admit it’s been a long time since I went on a date where the girl’s career was more impressive.” Y/N quirked her eyebrow at that but didn’t say anything. “Not that it’s an issue, just not a lot going on around here.”

She just hummed looking down at her food. She tried to covertly push away the peas in her food, not wanting to insult Cole’s food choice.

There was an awkward beat of silence between the two that was fortunately broken up by Y/N’s phone ringing. She felt a sense of relief reading her boss’ name flash across the screen. “Hey Hotch,” she answered.

“L/N, where are you?” his stern voice cut to the chase.

“Um, this place called Vincent's with Officer Olson. It’s like 15 minutes from the station. Why?”

Aaron pushed through the reoccurring pang in his chest. “Some other officers cornered our unsub, James Stevens, in a strip club. He’s holding five girls hostage inside.”

“Where is it?”

“125 North St. 5 minutes east of you.”

“I’ll be right over,” Y/N quickly cut in.

“L/N, do not engage before the rest of us get there. Got it?”

“Yeah, I understand,” she agreed begrudgingly. She hung up the phone, already collecting her things. “I have to go, the unsub is holding a group of girls hostage inside a club 5 minutes from here.”

“Oh shit,” Cole exclaimed, grabbing his things and leaving some cash on the table. The pair quickly jumped into their respective cars, lights and sirens blaring as they headed to the club.

As soon as Y/N jumped out of the SUV several officers flocked towards her. “Scene is yours agent, what do you want to do?” Sheriff Osborne asked.

“Any shots fired? Do we have confirmation the girls are alive?”

“Snipers have eyes on three of the girls and we have no reason to believe the other two are dead. Upon entering he fired randomly, killing a few patrons per witnesses. Thing is, when he took control he let every man leave but held all the girls.”

“Okay,” she acknowledged, trying to figure out what her next move would be. Based on the profile she knew he was negotiable but if he felt any sort of threat he’d go down guns blazing, taking down anyone he could. “I’m going in to talk to him.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Cole’s voice suddenly interrupted. He had grabbed Y/N’s arm, looking at her with pleading eyes. She just stared at him, confused before sliding her arm out of his grip.

“Agent, shouldn’t you wait for your team?” The sheriff’s voice interrupted the awkward encounter.

“This guy’s going to get more agitated and unstable the longer we wait. I’m going in now,” she said, pulling the gun out of her waistband and handing it to the sheriff. “And don’t let anyone in there until I call for it. We could lose a lot of lives if we spook this guy.”

The sheriff nodded as she approached the door.

~

“Agent L/N is entering the building,” crackled over the radio as Hotch and the rest of the team raced through the streets.

“What?” Aaron’s mind was going a mile a minute. “Repeat that,” he called over the radio.

“Agent L/N has entered the building to begin negotiations,” the police reporter called over the radio again.

Derek stared at the radio in shock from the passenger seat. “Hotch-” he began, wanting to slam his foot on the gas.

“I know,” he said, already pressing the car to go faster than they had been going previously.

They arrived on scene in record time, Hotch barely taking the time to throw the car in park. He was immediately heading for the door, not bothering to get all the information he would normally wait for, too set on getting the woman he was in love with out. “Stop him!” he heard a sudden shout. Several officers flocked to him in an effort to block his path. Whirling around furiously he found a desperate looking sheriff. “Agent L/N said that if anyone goes in there a lot of lives will be lost. And I’m guessing your agent would be one of them.”

Aaron wanted to pull rank and argue but he knew the sheriff was right but he was desperate to get his agent out of there safely.

“I tried to stop her,” an officer interrupted. Aaron recognized the voice from the hallway. All he could muster was an annoyed look before turning his attention back to the sheriff.

“Do we have a line of communication?”

“Yeah, we have Stevens on the phone. No one’s talked in a while though, we’ve just been listening to your agent try to calm him down.”

Soon enough the BAU chief had the phone. “Agent L/N, exit the building, that’s an order.”

It took a second but he got a shaky, “Not gonna happen, Hotch.”

“L/N-”

“You heard the lady,” a new voice cut him off. James Stevens. “She doesn’t want to leave yet. C’mon, let me keep her for a little while longer?” he pleaded sarcastically. “The pretty girls rarely keep their clothes on nowadays. Agent L/N is a breath of fresh air.”

Aaron clenched his jaw at his words. “We can work something out James.” Covering the microphone he leaned over to one of the officers. “Tell the snipers to take the shot of they get it,” he whispered.

“Come on you know there’s no walking out of this a free man, just let us walk out and we’ll talk this out,” he heard Y/N’s voice. There was a minute of silence and Aaron could only imagine what the psychopath inside was doing. “At least let the girls go. I’ll stay, I’ll be your collateral.”

“Agen-” Aaron immediately began to reprimand.

“Shut up!” James shrieked through the phone so loud Aaron had to pull it away. “Fine,” he heard more quietly. “You five, go! You stay.”

Once again Aaron covered the microphone. “As they’re coming out, go.”

~

All the girls started immediately scrambling up, heading for the door. It happened so fast there was hardly time to register it.

The first girl reached the door, wrenching it open. She was immediately met with a wall of SWAT officers. They pressed inside, guns up as the girls shrieked and scrambled away. “No!” Y/N heard herself shout, going towards them. Mistaking her attempt to salvage the situation as an effort to escape, Stevens was on her in a second.

She felt a sharp pain pierce her abdomen as he tackled her to the ground. She then felt him slump against her before being quickly pushed off, a SWAT officer kneeling over her, calling for a medic.

~

“Agent down, agent down,” Aaron heard the report come over the radio. He was immediately tearing away from the phone, running towards the entrance of the club. But Rossi intercepted him before he could go inside.

“I know, I know, I heard,” Dave tried to calm down his friend. “But EMTs just went in and you don’t need to be in the way.” Aaron began to protest but was cut off again. “I know it’s hard to watch the woman you love be hurt again but Y/N will be fine.”

Before Aaron could continue arguing he caught sight of Y/N being rolled out on a gurney. Dave let him go as he followed the EMTs to the ambulance. But before he could climb in the same officer from earlier ran up. “I-I’m her boyfriend,” he explained as he tried to climb up into the ambulance.

With those words Aaron nearly snapped. Despite his insecurity in his place in Y/N’s life, he knew that was a complete fallacy. She would never move that fast with a complete stranger. “Officer,” he caught the young man’s attention.

Cole visibly paled seeing Y/N’s boss. “A-agent Hotchner.”

Satisfied with the boy’s scared shitless expression, Aaron turned back to the EMT’s. “SSA Aaron Hotchner,” he introduced, pulling out his badge. “This is my agent and I will be accompanying her to the hospital.” And with that, he sent Officer Olson one last glare before climbing in.

Upon entering the ambulance the EMT stepped out, shutting the doors. As he took a seat, he realized his agent was still awake, albeit in agony. “Y/N? I’m right here,” he said, taking her blood soaked hand. Her shirt had been removed, allowing him to see the stab wound that had been tightly wrapped with blood soaked bandages. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault, Aaron,” she said through gritted teeth, her face twisted in pain as they hit a bump in the road. “I’m so cold an-and tired.”

He couldn’t help but notice the way she said his first name. It was refreshing, almost a relief, to hear his name come from her lips. “Hey, no just stay awake for a little while longer. We’re almost to the hospital.” Y/N just nodded, tears of pain and fear running down her cheeks.

“Why’d you come?” she suddenly asked. “I thought you hated me.”

It physically pained Aaron to hear that. “I’m so sorry I’ve been treating you the way I have on this case. I just couldn’t help but…” Aaron hesitated with the next words. He didn’t want to be vulnerable but she deserved the truth. “…be jealous.”

That took Y/N’s mind off of the pain. “Jealous?”

Aaron hung his head. “Yes, I-I’ve had feelings for you ever since you joined. I understand if you want to take some time away after this or even transfer to another team of your choice. I just thought you were owed an explanation for my behavior.”

“Y-you’ve had feelings for me for that long?”

Aaron squeezed her hand again. “Please don’t make me say it,” he asked but inside, he’d humiliate himself a million times to make up for what he did and earn her affection.

“Just this once,” she requested, tears pricking her eyes, whether from pain or emotion. “I need to be sure it’s not the blood loss.”

Aaron sighed softly, admiring her face. “I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you for the last year.”

“I’ve felt the same about you,” she confessed.

“Say it,” Aaron pressed, his other hand now clutching onto their already joined hands.

“I love you, Aaron.”

A smile tugged at Aaron’s lips. He hadn’t realized how much tension had gathered and with Y/N’s confession it all dispersed. Reaching a hand up to her face he cupped her cheek, tangling his fingertips into her hair. “You’re gonna be okay,” Aaron promised. “You have to be okay.” But he could see her eyes slipping closed and he could feel how clammy her skin was. “You gotta stay awake, sweetheart. C’mon.”

“It hurts,” she groaned through half closed lids.

“I know, you’re almost there.”

~

It took a few hours of surgery and another couple days of rest in the hospital but Agent L/N was finally discharged to go home. Unfortunately, she had to have a caretaker for that period of time. Fortunately, her boss/the man who was in love with her, was more than happy to take responsibility for his agent.

“Almost there,” Aaron tried to soothe a very tired and pained Y/N. Taking a few deep breaths, she found the strength to hobble over to her bed with a lot of support from Aaron.

She let out a groan as Aaron helped settle her on the bed. As he gripped her hand, he couldn’t help but see flashes of blood, remembering that night in the ambulance. “I’m gonna grab your bag from the car. Be right back,” Aaron promised with a peck to her lips.

While grabbing her bag was a legitimate excuse, he really just needed a minute to calm himself down. He needed to remember that Y/N was safe, not lying on a surgical table or in the back of an ambulance bleeding out.

He quickly hurried back into her apartment after grabbing her bag, re-entering the bedroom. “Here you are,” Aaron said, leaning the go-bag up against her dresser which was placed next to the bed. “I guess I’ll um let you rest,” he murmured out awkwardly. As much as he’d rather stay over she probably wanted some time to relax. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Aaron,” her voice interrupted him as he turned towards the door. Pivoting on his heel, he looked back at her. “Can you… um… just stick around for a little while? Every time I closed my eyes when I was alone in the hospital all I could see was him.”

That surprised Aaron a bit but it felt as if his entire being melted. She wanted him to protect her?

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed. There was no place in her bedroom to sit so he settled on the end of the bed. “‘M glad you feel safe with me,” he murmured.

“I do,” she confirmed. “You’re like my personal bodyguard,” she said, recalling memories of him barking orders at doctors when she was in pain or when annoying officers came to visit.

“I’m glad,” he smiled. He helped her settle into a lying position before resuming his place at the foot of the bed, regretfully letting out a yawn. After all, being a personal bodyguard was exhausting.

She noticed his yawn and immediately began demanding he lie down too. “You’ve been up helping me for days. Help me by sleeping now, please.”

“I really don’t want to intrude,” Aaron excused. “You don’t need me accidentally hurting you.”

“You won’t,” she swore. “Please. I’ll feel better knowing you’re resting too.”

Sleeping with her did sound nice. An irrational part of him thinking he could keep her nightmares away by doing so. So he complied, sliding under the covers she had pulled back for him. As he settled, she scooted closer to him as much as her surgical wounds would allow. Until she ended up tucked under his arm, head resting on his shoulder.

“Sleep,” he murmured the order, thumb stroking her cheekbone. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Masterlist

[penvisions]

dev's masterlist {joel miller}

I've somehow expanded my writing enough to warrant a whole separate masterlist for the one and only Joel Miller! He's so diverse and there are so many facets to his character, so it's been fun to explore writing for him ♡ Keep in mind my blog and online spaces are strictly 18+ Each fic has its own masterlist post with links to chapters, warnings, and supplemental content! Happy reading! ♡

back to -> navigation || main masterlist

*Series / Multichapter Fics:

Title: return the favor Pairing: Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Smuggler! Reader Status: work in progress Summary: With a past as rich as anyone in the times after the Outbreak, you find your medical and survival skills to be a valuable asset.You were dropping off some medical supplies that FEDRA was willing to pay big for when you got tangled up in a mission that involves a teenager with a mouth almost as smart as yours and gruff older man whose graying curls were his only redeeming quality. But the longer you traveled with them and the more that happened out in the open land of what once was, the more you find yourself connecting with them and wanting to protect them both at any cost.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: garnish Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader (a restaurant au) Staus: complete Summary: Summer is a time of fun and carefree days for those who are fortunate enough to not work within the food industry. You however have found yourself back in that world and so long were the days you could spend doing nothing. Along with the shift back to a world you once left behind is the figure of Joel Miller, who is as magnetizing as he is irritating that is now a part of your daily life.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: zest Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader) Status: work in progress Summary: With the passage of time, Joel Miller had shifted from ‘chef’ to something more. Your once hidden relationship a secret now out in the open. After a break in which you finished your degree and managed to land your dream job of teaching at the collegiate level, Joel had thrown himself into his work at the restaurant where you met. Back together and in far better mental places in your life, you both are caught off guard by the sudden news of being prospective parents. But things are always gonna get hectic because, of course, how else would things go with the two of you involved? It’d been that way for nearly two years after all.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: by the grit of sandpaper Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x F! Reader (Artisan! Joel Miller x F! Reader Status: complete Summary: Joel Miller is a gruff as they come, the world having changed him for the worst. But settling in Jackson with his brother changed him for the better. He's known around town as someone to help, whether it be with home repairs, construction, and hand carved trinkets. An offhand comment from you inspires him to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed with the man that had just begun to expand beyond patrols.

ao3 link || series masterlist

Title: gone to the dogs Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader Status: work in progress Summary: What happens when the world ends in such a violent way that it robs you of your very humanity? Do you submit or raise your hackles and fight back? The answer is obvious to Joel Miller, known for being someone to not to cross even in the most dangerous corners of the Boston QZ. The answer is obvious to you, too, who transformed in his likeness.

ao3 link || series masterlist

*One Shots / Drabbles:

Title: for the record Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader Summary: The longer, more dangerous patrol routes around Jackson are designated to you and one Joel Miller. You both have an understanding with each other, talking wasn’t the biggest concern for either of you, but being confident in each other was. He wasn’t a bad friend in your scavenged life, but then again you were beginning to think you didn’t want to be just his friend…and that’s got you more than a little sexually frustrated.

ao3 link || direct link

Title: unexpected bloom Pairing: Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Reader Summary: A single flower and a chance encounter brings color to your life.

ao3 link || direct link

Title: there's a place and time Pairing: Younger! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

ao3 link || direct link

{wristwatch}

{early morning filth}

{joel's morning wood}

*Construction Corner:

Title: black hole sun Pairing: Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Waitress! Reader ; Jackson! Joel Miller x Survivor! Reader Status: under construction : to be posted soon! Summary: You carry memories of Joel Miller in your heart in the wake of the end of the world, someone who had once been a bright spot in the dull monotony of life. When you unexpectedly cross paths with him again, he’s no longer the young man you used to share moments with but an unforgiving dark spot that had been corrupted by the new world order. He’s gone in the blink of an eye once again, showing up months later to settle in Jackson as he’s turned into some convoluted mixture of each. Maybe time and circumstance will allow for you finally tell each other how you feel?

ao3 link || series masterlist

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Christine Rosen

It’s not as if their readers and viewers are unaware of the problem. According to Pew Research, the percentage of Americans who say Jews face discrimination has doubled from 20 percent in 2021 to 40 percent in 2024. And yet, for some reason, mainstream-media outlets seem to be the only ones who haven’t drilled down on the issue.

In fact, the decision to downplay the anti-Semitic threat from the left is deliberate. Left-leaning media do not like to cover the behavior of their own, as the inconsistent coverage of the Jew-baiting members of the Democratic Party’s “Squad” during the past several years attests. Mainstream reporters at outlets like the New York Times take great pains to provide context and explanations for Representative Ilhan Omar’s blatant anti-Semitism, for example. A 2019 piece gave Omar and her defenders ample space to claim she was being unfairly targeted for criticism because she was a progressive Muslim woman while glossing over the fact that she had repeatedly accused Jews of having dual loyalties.

Amid the current conflict, it’s evident there is tacit agreement among most in the mainstream media that because Israel is defending itself by trying to root out Hamas in Gaza, the behavior of protesters is somehow justifiable and acceptable—but only because it involves Israel and the Jews.

This goes well beyond the deliberately misleading stories and factual errors about the war that have appeared in outlets such as the Washington Post. As Zach Kessel and Ari Blaff outlined in National Review, in a deep dive of the Post’s coverage of the Israel–Hamas war, the newspaper “has been a case study in moral confusion and anti-Israel bias” and has “violated traditional journalistic principles that have shaped coverage of foreign conflicts by American newsrooms for decades.”

Similarly, a recent story in the Free Press by Uri Berliner, a long-time editor and reporter at National Public Radio, described how NPR “approached the Israel-Hamas war and its spillover onto streets and campuses through the ‘intersectional’ lens that has jumped from the faculty lounge to newsrooms,” which meant “highlighting the suffering of Palestinians at almost every turn while downplaying the atrocities of October 7, overlooking how Hamas intentionally puts Palestinian civilians in peril, and giving little weight to the explosion of antisemitic hate around the world.”

[couldawouldashoulda50]

From Completely Different Worlds - William Nylander

The Sweden Chapter - Part One

A/N - This is a continuation of the above mentioned series between William Nylander and Loren Girard. Link for the all previous chapters are here.

it is also an early birthday submission for my dear @misshoneyimhome in advance of her actual birthday in October. Since she has been a such a big part of this William x Loren journey, I wanted to dedicate these final parts to wrap up this story (for now at least) to her. I just hope I can get Part Two done in time 😉💕

As ever, thank you for taking the time to read, like, send in comments and asks. It's beyond encouraging and is very much appreciated. I hope you like these final parts.

Warnings/Notes - this goes along the lines of the Leafs, and William himself stating he suffered from migraines at the start of the playoffs. Additional warnings based on symptoms (severe headaches, nausea, vision impairment), profanity, allusions to sex/smut

Word Count 8.6k (sorry) 18+ only please.

Recap - In March of 2024, after meeting at the Easter Seals Skate charity event in Toronto, a bittersweet romance unfolded between hockey superstar William and personal support worker Loren. Their chemistry was undeniable, and they quickly fell for each other, creating a whirlwind between them that felt so incredibly right.

For Loren, each encounter with William felt like it might be her last with the hockey star. She approached their time together with a mix of excitement and caution, trying to balance a level of detachment. She knew his star was too big, too bright for a small-town girl working two jobs to pay the bills. Yet, she couldn't help but fully embrace the amazing person he proved to be.

As the NHL season progressed, William's performance on the ice—which had already been declining—became increasingly noticeable. The mounting pressure left him at a crossroads. Under intense scrutiny from both himself and the media, William made the difficult decision to limit distractions and focus solely on his game.

William and Loren parted ways with heavy hearts. Despite her attempts to remain detached from William's magnetism, the breakup deeply affected Loren, leaving her full of sadness. William, though seemingly despondent while delivering his decision to Loren, maintained a cool demeanor afterward, as if nothing outside the arena bothered him. Despite his scoring slump in the final stretch of games, William had already surpassed his career-best point total by a double-digit margin. He finished just two points shy of 100—an impressive season for him overall.

And so it went, the Toronto Maple Leafs would be facing the Boston Bruins in Round One of the Stanley Cup playoffs. The city seemed nervous but hopeful the team would be able to trounce the Bruins and make it to the second round of the playoffs for the second year in a row.

April, 2024.

As the season drew to a close, Loren couldn't bring herself to watch the Maple Leafs' final games when she turned them on for Gary during her shift at the group home. The team struggled against their remaining opponents and William’s lack-luster performances added even more discourse, leaving everyone seemingly wondering what had gone wrong in the end.

As always in Toronto, playoff season evoked either excitement about the possibility of winning more than two rounds or dread, as if the team were already doomed to failure.

Just before the playoffs began, Toronto media reported that William, citing an undisclosed issue, didn't skate with the team for their final practice held in Boston. His absence sparked speculation and worry among fans and sports analysts alike. The concern was particularly intense given that William did not seem to be playing through an injury and hadn't missed a single regular season game in years.

The timing of William's mysterious absence, coupled with his recent poor performance, fueled rumors about his physical state. Some speculated about a possible injury, while others wondered if the coach, Sheldon Keefe, was so livid about William’s poor performance in game 82 that Keefe was possibly benching him for Game One of the playoffs.

The speculation intensified when William was notably absent from the team's morning skate on the day of the crucial playoff opener. Fans and media alike were left wondering about the true nature of his situation, with theories ranging from a hidden injury to illness. The uncertainty surrounding William's status added an extra layer of tension to an already high-stakes game, leaving everyone questioning how the team would fare without one of its star players.

As the playoff game approached, the uncertainty surrounding William's status cast a shadow over the team's abilities to compete against their rival. The lack of transparency from the Maple Leafs organization only served to intensify the speculation, leaving everyone to wonder about the true nature of William's absence and its potential impact on the team's playoff performance.

As the media cries of “Where’s Willy” saturated every sports channel, Loren tried - and failed - to not get sucked into all of the inflammatory opinions that somehow showed up in some of her social media feeds. She tried to stay off of her phone altogether but with her new self-employment venture hitting the ground running, the use of her cell phone was a necessary evil.

As she scrolled through her notifications, a headline caught her eye: "William Nylander's Mysterious Absence: Injury or Something More?"

It certainly got her rattled.

Despite her best efforts to move on, she couldn't help but worry about William. The thought of him potentially being injured or facing some other issue made her realize that, despite everything, she still cared deeply for him.

She quickly reminded herself “not your sink, not your dishes” and resumed getting Gary ready to take him for a stroll in his wheelchair.

But sometimes, the nagging worry about what was going on with William got the better of Loren. She couldn’t stop her mind from thinking about why he appeared to be MIA at that moment. Even if she wanted to forget about it, she couldn’t because every Toronto media outlet that was in her feed was talking incessantly about it.

Later that evening as she slid into her bed, the “Where the F*ck is William Nylander” headline appeared on a reel for a popular hockey podcast that Loren occasionally listened to. The two ex-hockey players further fueled rumours surrounding William’s absence with saying he may have hurt his back in the “champagne room” of a Miami strip-club while celebrating the end of the season.

Loren’s heart dropped and shattered as she visualized William plowing a beautiful and stacked bombshell in the back room of a Florida strip bar. It was one possibility out of many, and Loren had to accept that.

Maybe it would have been better to have never met William in the first place.

Loren tossed and turned in her bed, unable to shake the intrusive thoughts about William. She knew she shouldn't care, that their relationship was over, but her heart refused to listen to reason. As she stared at the ceiling, she was completely consumed by regret and self-doubt.

The bitch of the situation was she still cared about what was going on with him. It was so out of character for him to miss a game, let alone the all-important Game One of the playoffs, and that fact gnawed at her conscience.

"Fuck's sake…" Loren muttered aloud.

With severe trepidation, she reached for her phone, her fingers hovering over William's contact information.

Loren typed a short message, apologizing for texting him, let alone sending it in the middle of the night. She simply wanted to know if he was going to be okay.

As she hit send, a wave of anxiety washed over her. She placed her phone face down on the nightstand, trying to calm the ache that had settled into her stomach, as she played the whole "will he/won't he" game in her head.

Loren lay there, cheeks blazing, mind racing and becoming more agitated with herself for being so fucking foolish with getting tied up with William. Why the fuck did she still care?

That question plagued her endlessly.

And she came back to the same conclusion. That's just simply who she is and what she does. She cares about people.

Just because William was more or less a memory at this point, she still needed to hear that everything would be okay with him—and hopefully soon.

Eventually, somehow, something in her musings lulled her to sleep.

The next morning, Loren awoke feeling tired and unsettled. She rolled onto her side and stared into the emptiness of her bed and throughout her bedroom. The quietness in her home, which she normally loved, bothered her this morning. She couldn't quite place why she felt so irritated—she had a much-needed day off with no pressing events on her calendar. She was caught up with errands and bill payments. She slept well, once she fell asleep that is. She had nothing in front of her that day to warrant her crusty mood.

Then it all came flooding back in her mind. Thoughts of William possibly blowing out his back after being serviced at a strip club. His poor performance. His absence. The fact that he still had never left her brain since they met, hung out, and broke up—with everything in between those moments still lingering too. She then remembered the text message she sent him.

Oh fuck… the text message….shit…..

Loren coached herself in her head. Okay, Loren. Just be prepared. Please be prepared that he may have blocked you. He may never respond. Please. Do not spiral if there’s no response.

She swiped her phone open. The text message icon appeared, indicating multiple messages received. They all had William's name attached to them, with the first messages being sent not long after she had fallen asleep.

Anxiously, she read each one. She had to read the messages multiple times as her sudden increase in blood pressure made her head ache and her eyes blur.

His messages were sent with a small period of time between each one.

He told her how glad he was that she reached out.

He told her he was okay but he had some “medical issues” going on

Then he told her not to worry.

Loren slowly laid back down resting her head on her pillow and closed her eyes. She laid her phone, screen side down once again next to her on the bed.

Placing her hand over her heart that was galloping, she tried to get a hold of every thought running wild in her head. Images that were a mix of intimate moments spent together and then the low moments that came when he left that fateful morning with his sweet dogs happily in tow.

Her phone buzzed and chimed which made her stomach lurch. It’s not that she thought it was William, or even hoped it was him. It was the fact that she was already overwhelmed with an influx of unsolicited emotions, and it was barely 8am.

Loren hesitated for a moment before picking up her phone again. She knew she should check it, but part of her wanted to stay in this bubble of uncertainty just a little longer. Taking a deep breath, she flipped the phone over and glanced at the screen.

It was another message from William. Her heart raced as she read his words: "Can I call you?"

Loren stared at the screen. More dots bounced as William continued to type. She set her phone back down, and pressed her hands against her face. She really did not like that William could send her reeling like this.

For fuck sakes Loren….this is bullshit. He’s just a fucking hockey player. He’s not a God…stop acting like he is.

Her internal reprimand gave her enough piss and vinegar to remind her that she’s got a fucking backbone.

She slowly typed that he could call, her thumb hovered over the “send’ button for an extended period of time. She hit the button before she could talk herself out of it.

Within seconds, her phone began to ring.

Loren sat up in bed with her legs crossed, straightened her back, took a deep breath and tapped to accept the call from William.

"Hey," William's voice came through, soft and hesitant. There was a brief pause before he continued, "I'm sorry for calling so early. I sorta saw that you read my messages so….yeah. How are you?”

Loren's breath caught in her throat, her initial resolve already beginning to falter.

“Good, William. I’m good. I’m sorry to hear about - …if - that you’re not doing well,” Loren’s words stumbled a little as she spoke. She could feel heat blotching her neck and her cheeks were blazing red.

“Yeah - it’s not great. I can’t really talk about it much right now but I’ll be ok.”

“I’m glad, William. Hoping you’ll be cleared soon…give Pasta a little run for his money.”

William chuckled at Loren referencing his good friend and fellow number 88 for the Bruins, David Pastrňák.

“That’s my plan.”

There was a hesitation at William’s end but despite her desire to avoid awkward pauses, she simply waited for him to speak.

“So, I was wondering if I could ask a big….I mean - a huge favour, really. I know I’m probably the last person you would want to help but I’m really hoping you can.”

“That’s not true. If I can, I’d be happy to help you out.”

The warmth in Loren’s response made William’s heart crack.

“So, the stuff I’m going through sort of prevents me from getting around on my own sometimes. I’m in Boston right now so I’ve got the medical staff nearby but I think I might need help when I get back to Toronto. There’s kind of a lot of stuff going on right now and I need someone close to me that I can trust and keep everything private.”

If they were on a video call, William would have immediately seen Loren's confused expression.

“…..okay….so - what exactly can I do to help…?” Loren asked cautiously. She had no idea where this was going.

“The thing is part of what’s happening involves - what can I call it…”

Loren thought about what he might mean. “Like do you need….personal care?”

“Yeah….exactly. I know that sounds kind of, I don’t know…like something else. The thing is, part of what happens when I have migraines…I tend to….well, like nothing stays down….”

“Vomit…?” Loren clarified.

“Pretty much, yeah. I just need some help getting through the next 4 or 5 days maybe? I know how bad it probably sounds with me asking you this. I mean….I’ve wanted to talk to you anyway but -”

“I get it…” Loren wasn’t sure if she wanted to sound curt or not, but she didn’t want to hear that “he’s been meaning to call.”

Loren rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “Hmmm…let me see what I can do. When do you get back?”

“Tonight. There’s kind of a lot to explain -,” William paused for a moment, unsure how to broach the next subject. “There’s going to be a camera crew around me at some point this week as well. Fucking shitty timing.”

Loren just shook her head. This was all too strange.

Loren chuckled. “Jesus William, I’m not even going to ask…but I swear this shit can only happen to you.”

This is exactly why William often missed Loren. She could poke fun at life a little and ease some of the tension. That’s what he needed right now.

She heard his hallmark giggle softly through the phone before adding “Fuck - tell me about it.”

“Well, okay….I can’t say yes right at the moment. I’ll see if I can juggle some stuff around. I’ll message you back when I know more.”

“Or…you can call. I’d like the company - if you can….things have been really fucking shit lately.”

She rolled her eyes mockingly but then felt bad. “I can imagine,” she said, sounding as sympathetic and supportive as she could.

There was a pause - so Loren decided to wrap the conversation up. “Alright then, I’ll be in touch one way or the other once I know more. Take it easy William - ok?”

“Wait - Loren….look, I’m s - I’m really sorry.” William’s hesitation between his words and his low tone softened Loren a little more.

“William - you’ve not done anything wrong. There’s no need for an apology…. not in my mind anyway.”

“Yeah, but I am sorry for the way things turned out. Bad timing I guess.”

Loren wasn’t sure she believed in bad timing. Despite how she felt for him, she had faith that things happen in life the way they’re supposed to. Bad timing had nothing to do with it.

“Well, then…I’m sorry too William.” Loren paused again and then tried to sound upbeat. “Okay, let me get going on this and I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Hey - uh, thanks Loren. I really appreciate it….for sure, talk to you soon. Call, okay?”

Loren mumbled a half-assed acknowledgement before ending the call. Hanging her head, and then looking up at the ceiling, all she could mutter was “what the fuck - really?”

She flopped back on the bed. Her head was hurting and her stomach was a mess.

Her phone buzzed and chimed once more. Loren’s irritation was beginning to simmer.

Swear to God - if this is William again….I’m going to fucking scream….

It was William. He sent a picture he took of Loren, Pablo and Banksy on his couch that was taken weeks ago. She remembered that moment when the dogs were vying for her attention but never knew William had witnessed it, let alone taken a photo.

His caption read “I meant to send this to you awhile ago. Really great picture. Hoping you can come visit. The boys would be happy to see you.”

Seeing the still shot of a memory which William kept for whatever reason, helped soften her mood.

Hopping into the shower, she visualized her calendar for the next week, making mental moves in her head like a chess game. She had no idea why she was even doing this other than the simple fact she liked to help people in need, first and foremost.

Within the hour, schedules and plans had been altered, financing for the missed hours from work was accounted for, and she placed the call to William, asking him when he'd like her to come.

"Tonight, if possible?" was William's response. "I haven't been feeling that great today and this stuff might hit me harder when I get home," he added for clarification.

Loren was apprehensive, but she agreed to stay.

Later that day, after William confirmed he was en-route to the airport in Boston, he asked if she could start venturing down to his place.

It seemed that "fuck me" was her mantra that day. Loren repeated her mantra again and again for the entire drive down to Yorkville.

◇◈◆◇◈◇◆◈

William had already secured Loren parking in the visitors section at his building. Pulling into a well-lit spot, she hurriedly grabbed her bags from the trunk. Despite the level of security the underground garage had, she was still a little nervous being in a parking garage at night by herself.

Loren rode the elevator to the main lobby and approached the security desk to advise which tenant she was visiting and the make and model of her vehicle. Having seen her previously, one of officers, by the name of Warren, advised that William had requested that she be escorted and given entry to his place prior to his arrival. There had been a fog delay at Boston’s Logan Airport and William’s arrival was far behind schedule.

Warren smiled warmly at Loren as he handed her the key fob for William's unit and the two chatted amicably during the elevator ride to William’s floor. "Mr. Nylander mentioned you might be staying for a few days. It’ll be nice to see another friendly face around here.”

When it came to William’s day to day goings on, the only other people that would know what he did and who he saw would be the security officers at his building.

Loren chuckled and smiled, but felt a twinge of unease wondering if the guard was secretly implying something. She wondered how much the security staff had witnessed of William's personal life and visitors. As she stepped out of the elevator, she pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on sounds of Pablo and Banksy slight whimpers at the door. Loren asked Warren what time the dogs’ caregiver would have dropped them off, trying to understand if they would be desperate for to go outside. Warren informed her that the dogs had been dropped off about an hour ago, so there shouldn’t be an urgent need. Loren had never taken the pups out by themselves, and she wanted to ask William before she went ahead anyway.

Loren thanked Warren for his help as she unlocked the door to William's condo.

As she stepped into the apartment, Pablo and Banksy greeted her with enthusiastic yips, both standing on their hind legs to accept Loren’s affectionate rubs. Loren knelt down to pet them cooing at their sweet faces and accepting their voracious wet kisses in return. It was so bewildering to be standing in William’s place without him there, and she felt a little out of sorts.

She scouted out where it would be best to sleep, talking softly to Pablo and Banksy as they followed her room to room. It was difficult not to feel something as she carefully padded through William’s space. Loren tried to breath deeply to calm her nerves, but instead, she would catch a scent that belonged to William, and her stomach would flip once more.

Her phone chimed which startled her. William messaged her that he would be home soon. The messages were just a few words that barely made a sentence and it had her wondering what kind shape his was in.

Loren sat in the dimly lit living room with the memories of their first meeting, their first meal, their first glass of wine.

Their first kiss.

That kiss is why there are love songs, poetry, and Hallmark greeting cards.

It was a small part of what made her insides hurt that things ended between them. The other part was simply him. William’s exterior was one thing, but what lived inside his head is what she missed the most. He was a little bit of everything. Quirky. Nerdy for sure. Intelligent in many things but undeniably clueless with others. His curiosity. If he was interested in a topic, the long list of questions he asked were thoughtful and thought-provoking.

She had not experienced being around a man like William before. But now that she had, at the very least, she has a better idea of what she’s truly looking for in the future.

With her body stretched out on the couch, and both dogs lying lengthwise on her, Loren eventually drifted off to sleep.

With the sound of voices approaching from the hallway, the dogs leapt off of Loren’s body and bolted towards the door.

As Loren stood up from the couch, there were two things she was not expecting when the door opened.

The first was Calle Järnkrok leading William inside while carrying his bags, and the second was William's alarming appearance. His typically bright blue eyes were bloodshot and sunken, with dark circles underneath.

Loren greeted the men softly, taking William's bags and placing them by the hallway. The look of concern on her face was very apparent, and Calle quickly explained that the combination of fog delays and the flight itself had triggered a severe migraine in William. With the shuffling from airport, to plane, to car, the pain in his head had reached excruciating levels. Along with feeling terribly nauseous, his vision was blurred and compromised.

Calle thanked Loren for being there and taking over. He quickly mentioned instructions in William’s bag for his home care requirements as he headed for the door. It hurt for William to speak but he managed to thank Calle, his voice low, gravelly and almost slurred.

Once Calle had left, Loren suggested she help him into bed. William didn’t object, but he before he moved, he grabbed Loren’s hand and pulled her into him.

The same despondency he showed on her doorstep weeks before could be felt in his embrace. Loren gently wrapped her arms around his broad frame, whispering that he should get into bed. As she began to reposition herself by his side, his grip around her waist was firm, and stopped her from moving as he pulled her even closer to him.

She felt his warm breath against her cheek as she stood motionless, unsure and caught off guard with the way he held her. He began to thank her, but instead he grit his teeth as a wave of throbbing pain traveled through one side of his head.

Loren gently coaxed him to walk slowly to his bedroom, her voice sounded both melodic and soothing as she guided him down the hallway.

Passing the guest bedroom, William saw Loren’s bags just inside the door.

Loren followed William’s gaze. Although nothing verbal was said, she sensed his dismay.

Entering his room and stopping at the foot of the bed, Loren stood in front of William, groaning inside her mind knowing that she might need to help him undress.

She instructed him to sit on the bench at the end of his bed, helping him lower himself down. She knelt down in front of him and began untying his shoes, removing them silently as William watched every move she made.

She looked up at him and smirked. “Don’t get any ideas…I’m just down here to take off your shoes.”

William only smiled. It hurt to laugh.

“It the pain still really bad? Can you see anything?”

“Vision’s coming back. Fucking head though…and my stomach.”

Loren gave him a sympathetic nod, saying she’d get him into bed in a second.

With minimal movements, she removed his hoodie and t-shirt underneath. His scent made her hungry to kiss every bit of bare skin that she just exposed.

Removing his sweatpants was worse. Way worse. She scolded herself mentally when she kept glancing towards his concealed dick. She hated the fact she still craved it as badly as she did. It was literally making her salivate.

She gently helped William into bed, leaning over him to adjust pillows supporting his head and neck. Once he was settled, she pulled the covers over him.

The light from the hallway provided just enough illumination to see William's face as he closed his eyes. Loren told him she would turn off all the lights once she got the cold gel compress she brought and a lined bucket to set next to his bed in case he needed it.

As she turned to exit the room, William's hand lightly clasped onto two of Loren's fingers. "I don't know many girls who would look after me like this. Thank you so much." His voice sounded dry and croaky, and Loren made a mental note to get him some fluids.

She looked at William for a moment before a faint smile spanned her face. "Well, then I guess you're Snapping the wrong girls… I bet I could find a thousand and one ladies in 30 minutes or less who would shank their own mother to be in my position right now. Could have them here faster than a Domino's pizza."

William smiled, but his eyebrows furrowed. "I'm trying to say thank you, y'know…"

"You're not supposed to be talking at all." Loren stroked his hand with her thumb, acknowledging in her own way that she appreciated him saying it, but it wasn't necessary. "I'll be back in a sec."

She pet the pooches that had already nestled between William's legs on top of the comforter and glided out of the room. William opened one eye enough just to glance at her backside as she left the room.

She quickly dissolved the electrolyte package that had been sent home in William's home care package from the medical staff on the team. She retrieved the gel compress mask from the refrigerator and a few other items. But as she entered the room, William was leaning over the edge of the bed, groaning that he was going to be sick. Loren quickly set everything aside and went to William's side just for some support. She leaned over next to him and quietly asked him if she should stay by his side. He nodded his head.

After his dry heaves had subsided, she helped him lay down, and sat next to him on the edge of the bed as he drifted off to sleep. Once she heard his breathing slow into a specific rhythm, she moved quietly about the room, disposing of the contents of the bucket and replacing the bag, setting the strong electrolyte mix next to him with a straw, and plugging in his phone.

It was around 4 a.m. when she had cleaned and tidied everything up and decided to head to bed. She turned off all the lights, closed the blinds, and ensured William's room was now completely shrouded in darkness. As she closed his door, he quietly called her name.

She stepped lightly to his bedside, and he asked if she would sleep there with him.

Loren was exhausted and knew he had the most comfortable bed imaginable. She quietly agreed, citing "just in case he's sick again" in her head as an additional excuse to stay.

She quickly got ready for bed. She wondered if she could get away with just sleeping on top of the comforter, but the condo was far too cold for her light pajama set.

She crawled in next to William, asked him if he was okay, and as he nodded, she wished him a good sleep.

He thanked her once again for everything she'd done. He thought to himself how amazing she had been to him so far, and he felt like he didn't deserve her kindness and care.

He moved his hand close to her bent leg under the covers. Just having her there next to him was good enough for tonight.

—

The following morning, Loren awoke to a dog barking. The sound came from nearby, not from the dogs that she felt were still nestled between William and her.

She looked around slowly, getting her bearings. She saw William’s bedroom door slightly open which let some light in from the main living space.

She didn’t want to shift and wake William up, who’s body seemed to a little closer to her than she remembered when she fell asleep.

Turns out, she needn’t worry.

A low "good morning" purred behind her. Before she could stifle it, a soft giggle escaped her lips as a smile spread across her face.

She turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of William's face. His eyes still looked heavy and tired, and his five o’clock shadow had added 6, 7, and 8 o’clock to it too. A soft grin teased his lips as he looked at Loren while laying on his side.

This was not faring well for Loren as part of the getting over William Nylander program that she was on.

She shifted onto her side, pulling up the blankets to cover her boobs that appeared much more voluptuous in this position bunched in her tank top.

God, he is so fucking beautiful Loren thought.

Fuuuuck me….look at her William thought.

Loren peeled her gaze off of William and onto the dogs - Banksy had flipped onto his back while Pablo looked unimpressed and pouted at the end of the bed.

She motioned for Pablo to come up towards her, which he did. Licking her face, she quietly told him how smart of a boy he was.

Hers eyes met William’s again, behind his glasses this time, and she asked him how he was feeling.

“Much, much better. My eye sight seems to be pretty normal…. have a little headache but nothing like last night.”

“Good, I’m so glad - I can’t imagine that pain.”

"Fuck—yeah, the headache was really starting to build in the plane, so I just leaned my seat back and closed my eyes. When we were landing, that's when it hit badly—I couldn't see out of my one eye."

He then backtracked to the point where his recent headaches had begun.

"Pretty much right after I left your place, I could feel one side of my head starting to ache," William confessed.

Loren looked perplexed. "It started right after you left?"

William looked at Pablo and began scratching him under his collar. Pablo's hind leg began to thump as he scratched himself in sync with William's fingers.

"I was thinking about it all the way home. It wasn't your fault that my scoring fell off a cliff. I'm pretty sure I made you feel like you were the problem. Y'know… with the whole distraction thing."

Loren's eyes remained cast downward as she lightly stroked the tufts of fur on Pablo's back. "I don't really remember anything, other than feeling — I know it sounds juvenile maybe but — feeling just really sad. I think you're a pretty good guy… I knew I was going to miss hanging out with you." Loren's cheeks flushed with her admission.

"Wait — just pretty good? Not a great or awesome guy… I only get a pretty good?" William teased.

"Never got the chance to fully find out before you ditched me," Loren deadpanned, followed with a little snicker.

William hung his head in defeat. "Ok — yeah… take it easy… I'm not well…," he smiled.

Loren mockingly whispered at Pablo as he craned his head around to sniff her face. "You hear that Pablo — your Dad can dish it out but he can't take it…"

Pablo wagged his tail at Loren as she scratched under his ears, telling him how great and awesome he was.

She heard William giggle and scoff at her.

William grabbed his phone from the nightstand, unplugging it as he adjusted his body in bed. "I'm guessing you plugged in my phone — thanks for doing that. I actually don't know if I remember much, other than you being here when Calle walked me up."

"You were in pretty rough shape… it was not at all prepared to see you like that actually."

William scrolled through the gazillion messages, finally selecting one to read through. He turned to Loren, adjusting his glasses as he glanced back at his phone. "So seriously, how long do I have you for? Think you can drive me to the arena today? They want to do another check-up."

Loren smiled and turned onto her back, stretching her arms over her head while yawning. "That's what I'm here for… you definitely shouldn't be driving." She looked at William, eyes bright and wide. "You wanna take my car?" she asked, and then giggled. Her car was essentially a shit box and not nearly as nice as William's—for some reason, she was geared to egg him on a little today.

William shook his head and chuckled. "We'll take my car—your car....well, it does enough travelling." He thought for another moment. "You never answered my question… how long do I have you for? And don't change the subject…" he said light-heartedly.

"You said four or five days, so I took five. But I don't think you'll need me for that long… you already seem a million times better."

"Don't get upset at me for asking but… you ok with not getting paid for that long? We can figure out something to get you reimbursed—you just need to tell me."

"I'm okay. It'll be okay."

"Loren—seriously—please…"

"I promise… I got a little side business going....there's been a little extra money coming in lately. So, I'm good… but thank you. Truly… I appreciate the offer."

"What is it—the side business?"

Loren looked away sheepishly. "OnlyFans," she replied quietly.

William's head nearly swiveled off of his shoulders and his mouth dropped open.

Loren's face turned red. "What—you told me once that I should try it—that I would do well on there…"

"Fuck—I—really—I didn't… are you serious?"

Loren looked down at Pablo and then back toward William, before she grinned at his shocked expression. "No, I'm not serious. My side gig is tutoring French—conversational and otherwise."

William looked up at the ceiling. "Fuck… shocked the shit outta me. Ow—fuck…" William winced, squinting his eye and pressing his palm over top of it. "Thanks for the jolt, my headache is back."

Loren sat up. "Oh fuck… oh no—shit—really? I am really—I'm so sorry!" she said panicking. "You see why I never joke around much? My timing sucks…"

William laughed. "Ha—gotcha…"

◇◈◆◇◈◇◆◈

If there was a word that would describe the 2024 Leafs versus Boston series, it would be "dramatic."

Add in pre- and post-game media scrums, plus a camera crew following William at certain points during his illness, there was rarely a moment in his life that wasn't complicated.

What was unsurprising, but perhaps unexpected is how Loren naturally provided a buffer between William and his professional life. There was a sanctity with her presence in his home. She brought warmth, comfort, and offered unwavering and nonjudgmental support when he allowed himself to unload some of the thoughts that clogged his mind.

William discovered the friendship side of his relationship with Loren. She slept in his bed the first night, but stayed in the guest bedroom for the nights that followed. It's not what William had wanted, and if Loren was being honest, she still deeply desired William too. But, for that moment, she did what she felt was best for both of them and kept their reunion platonic.

However, after Game 4, where it seemed all but over for the Leafs — the game where William was caught on camera clapping back at his teammates — William arrived home in an abysmal mood.

Although he was quiet, Loren sensed he was like a pressure cooker ready to pop. The vein in his neck, the one she had once kissed while William gripped onto her from a powerful orgasm, jutted out under his skin. Loren treaded lightly, and gave him time to process how the game unfolded now that he was home.

It was when he grabbed his phone and saw how many notifications there were, on top of the millions he already had, that totally set him off. He whipped his phone at the adjacent plush chair, yelled expletives, shoved some furniture around and paced around the living room, letting every single thought he had — unfair or not — out into the universe.

Banksy curled onto Loren's lap but Pablo stood on the arm of the couch and watched William devotedly. Each time William passed Pablo, he would rub him or kiss his head, but he continued to unleash whatever he had pent up. There was a lot. Far more than Loren ever suspected.

She listened intently. If he asked her for her thoughts, she somehow balanced being supportive while remaining neutral.

One of many benefits of having an open concept kitchen and living room space is that one can still listen to a person vent and make them something to eat while not missing a beat. Which is exactly what Loren did as William let out all of his frustrated thoughts, then finally sat down at his kitchen island as he wound down.

With the sourdough bread that Loren bought the day before, she stood in William's kitchen making him a light meal of Croque Monsieur.

The day before, William and Loren had taken the dogs on a long walk to a bakery Loren was eager to visit. Though she'd offered to go alone, William insisted on joining her. The beautiful spring day began cool and crisp but quickly warmed as it progressed.

During Loren's stay, William had noticed a change in her demeanor. While still kind and caring, the wide-eyed excitement she'd once shown when they first met had dimmed. She now seemed guarded, as if holding back her emotions.

However, as they entered the bakery together, William watched Loren come alive. Her eyes lit up at the sights and smells surrounding them. She looked absolutely radiant—this was the Loren he remembered.

William watched her finish up at the stove, and she plated the French style sandwich and handed it to him. William's eyes widened at the sight of it -- the bread was toasted perfectly golden and the rich cheese slightly oozed onto the plate.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck…" William groaned.

Loren's back was turned as she washed the dishes. Hearing his groan, her first thought was that he saw something upsetting on his cellphone. She turned around with a concerned look, just to see William taking another massive bite of food.

His mouth was still partially full as he rolled his eyes at Loren. "This is so fucking good… like — fuck… oh my god."

William eyed the pan that she was just about to clean. "Wait — could you pretty please make me another one? Pretty please? I'll do whatever you want me to…" William said wryly, but there was a suggestive flavor to it too.

Loren blushed as her thoughts turned sinful.

Fucking guy, she laughed to herself, shaking her head.

After making another, in no time, he was already halfway through the second Croque Monsieur. Loren suddenly felt a grumble of hunger in her stomach. "Think I could have just the tiniest bite — if you can spare it…" she said with a little wink.

William had this look. It was a combination of pretty boy, frat boy, fuck boy, cocky boy and sweetheart rolled into one, and it made Loren weak.

He lifted the piece of bread up and motioned for her to go ahead and take a bite. It had unnerved her a little, with his eyebrow cocked and raised, but she was hungry now. There was a small window of opportunity to look as sexy as she could while sinking her teeth into the sandwich. If not sexy looking, she would at least try for not awkward.

She gently wrapped her hand around his which held the base up, and took a slow bite.

Goddammit — that is fucking good, she thought.

She swiped some crumbs from the side of her mouth while William watched how pretty she looked with her cheeks flushed.

"Wait — there's a bit of mustard still left."

She wasn't sure if there really was or not — she was too busy kissing William back. He had pulled her into him and mumbled something about "being so amazing", and began kissing her urgently.

They remained in a lip lock the entire way to William's bedroom.

There in the low light from his bedside lamp, they undressed each other, their hands worked in sync as pants were unfastened and clasps were undone. Their hands smoothed over each other's skin which filled them each with profound desire and admiration.

They both knew what they yearned for from each other, and neither was willing to try and fight it.

Still, Loren worried about William overexerting himself. She had experienced William's voracious sexual appetite before — it was a marvel to experience his level of cardio and stamina. Given he had just made his first appearance in the playoffs after his blinding migraines, she was not going to be the reason he missed out on the rest of the series.

He pulled her in tightly, her hands raked through his hair as he kissed and nipped her neck.

"I think it might be too much if you…" — Loren's voice trailed off into a moan as William's mouth made contact with her nipple — "…I think you should lie on your back… fuck William…" she groaned.

He was almost lifting her off the ground with the way he held and kissed her.

Loren smoothed his hair as he latched onto her nipple again. "William… please… your head… don't overdo anything… let me — here… lie on your back." He kissed back up her neck, stopping to look at her face.

The way she cared for him was extraordinary.

After he lied down for her, the way she worked his cock in her mouth was indescribable.

But the way she rode him until the muscles in his thighs quivered was otherworldly.

Once again, in the still bliss afterward, William's world felt calm as he lay with Loren sleeping next to him.

The next morning, William opened his eyes and saw the silhouette of Loren's side profile. Her eyelashes, her nose that turned up at the end. Fuck, that mouth of hers.

He could tell that she was awake as she lazily glided her hands through Pablo's fur.

"What are you thinking about?" William's low, morning croak made her smile while her gaze remained fixed on the ceiling.

"Just thinking about your next game. Maybe you should pull a Marchand and go up and lick Pasta on his face. Get him off his game."

William laughed, moving closer to kiss Loren's shoulder. He motioned for her to turn into his chest, knowing how much she loved it there. "Nah, Pasta might like it and try and kiss me back. I think I've been in the news enough lately anyway — don't need anything else for them to write about."

Loren kissed and nuzzled his chest. "I guess. It'd be something to see though."

It was quiet in the room, save for the drone of traffic from the streets below.

"I got a text from my manager at the home. The person covering for me dislocated his shoulder. They could really use me, and it seems like you're on the right track."

William knew at one point she would need to go back to her own life. It was a hard pill to swallow though, after all she had done for him. "Oh wow. Yeah, ok… I understand. Although… I'm feeling a little light-headed, dizzy… and my back's sore — and I've got a toe cramp…" William chuckled.

Loren smiled against his skin. "Oh — okay…well, in that case…" she purred, gliding her hand up his bare back, "you better tell Paul and the med staff when you go in for practice this morning." She giggled knowing that wasn't the response he was aiming for.

"Ooof — okay… was I that big of a pain in the ass?"

Loren reached up to kiss him along his jawline. "The biggest," she responded, her voice just above a whisper.

—

Loren had agreed to drive William to practice before she headed north to go home. The drive to the rink was understandably quiet as William thought about the aftereffects from the dumpster fire of Game 4 the night before. Added to that was the uncertainty of what the future held for the two of them.

As they inched along in traffic nearing the rink, William started to fidget a little, rubbing and scratching his beard as he often did while talking to reporters. Loren noticed it, but remained quiet. She was lost in her own thoughts anyway.

"Are you nervous?" Loren finally asked.

William's eyes seemed like a pale blue that morning as he looked toward Loren. They were still gorgeous she thought, but they were a little sullen. Tired.

"A little. Just don't know what the mood is going to be like in there. Cameras are going to be on me and Mitchy, I think." William leaned his head back on the headrest. "So, what happens next — you know… with this?"

Loren smiled and shook her head. "I wish I knew." William couldn't help but laugh at her expression — her bright smile, biting her lip and with a look of "fucked if I know."

Loren pulled into the entrance of the rink and into a parking spot. Looking to William, she continued her thought. "I guess for you, either you'll be going on to the next round, or you'll be packing up to go home for the offseason. Either way, I am excited for you, and I'm so glad you asked me to come help you."

William looked down and smiled. "You know I'm bad with words, but this time we just spent was really… amazing. The fact you even said that you'd help me after… after I… after things ended the way they did."

"William — stop saying it like you did something wrong a few weeks back. You did nothing wrong. You were faced with a decision and you made one."

"Yeah but it really fucking sucked. For both of us."

"Well, you still get to be you so… I guess it sucked more for me, but whatever… I won't argue," Loren laughed, nudging William.

William smiled and started to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Alright, I'll message you later," he said as he opened the car door and slid out of the seat. He came around to Loren's side, leaned through the open window and kissed her tenderly. He leaned his forehead against hers, and sighed. "Better go. Talk soon."

Loren grinned and nodded, giving him a wink and wished him luck.

As she drove away, she felt an unexpected feeling of peace. It was almost like closure somehow. She had no illusions about William. She had another quick glimpse into his world, and she was not sure - given the chance - if being a WAG is something she would want to entertain. But she truly was grateful to be there for William when he needed someone, and that he trusted her with his very private life.

All Loren knew is that she would return home, resume her life and let the chips fall where they may.

[pendarling]

The Town Theatre

Hero had to keep themselves level-headed as they watched the portrayal of their hero persona up on stage. They didn't think the town would actually take it this far, considering they were the only hero to save the citizens from Villain. Clearly, it didn't deter the townsfolk from writing a reconstruction of the events they saw into a play.

So when Hero sat down excited to view the story from the citizen's perspective, their jaw could not drop any lower.

"Oh, Villain, I know our love can't be understood," the actor that played them leaned up against the supposed version of Villain, their faces only mere centimetres apart. "But I'll do anything to be with you."

"I don't care, my love. They won't stop us."

Hero internally cringed, but looking around them, the audience silently watched with awe. Was this honestly how they saw Villain and them whenever they fought? Or were they so blinded by fantasy that it blurred the lines for them?

Hero would never act like this in a million years. Sure, there was occasional banter, but never to a romantic degree.

The crowd clapped as soon as the actors on stage kissed. They wanted to leave so badly, but curiosity kept them seated. They paid good money for their seat, and they would not waste it just not to see this through. Their hand went up to their mouth as the show kept going. They might have to barf sooner rather than later.

Hero had to wonder, however, if they could even make their appearances the same again; knowing what they know now, their interactions with Villain would have to change by force. It was the only way to stop people from making further assumptions about their relations. Besides, this was supposed to be a strictly work-related exchange, nothing beyond it.

As the play progressed, it kept getting worse. Eventually, Hero opted for a break; maybe a walk outside would do the trick. They stood from the chair and walked up the aisle to the double doors. By the time they had gotten out, the sun had just started to set.

They sat on the sidewalk's edge and stared into the sky, reeling from the dramatic play.

What were they even supposed to make of it?

"Crazy people…" They slowly shook their head in disbelief and numbly began walking back home. They would likely never recover from this again and probably refrain from fighting Villain in public spaces any longer. The risks were too high, and they didn't need the distraction.

It hadn't even been three minutes until the loud ringing of their phone went off, and as they checked their phone, it alerted them to a nearby police station in trouble. Hero worked with the police force, so for them to warn Hero directly meant trouble was up, and by the look of the locations, it was directly behind the theatre they left.

"Are you serious?" They mumbled and tapped on the screen. Villain was up to no good again and, as usual, had made their grand entrance by blowing up an entire row of police vehicles. Hero wasn't sure why Villain did the things that they did. Maybe it was for a form of satisfaction; the majority of the issues they've been causing were pointless and never led up to anything more remarkable than it.

Hero reflected on the chances of being caught out in the public's view again, especially after promising themselves a change of pace. They couldn't mull on it any longer, though; it was better to deal with it now and confront Villain about their actions. Hero spun on their heels and turned back around; whether they would be embarrassed or not was out of the question.

~~~ MASTERLIST

[david-goldrock]

Israel's declaration of independence, translation by David Goldrock

In the land of Israel, the Jewish nation had risen. There its spiritual, religious and stately character was formed, there it had lived a life of kingdomly sovereignty, there it had created national and universal cultural assets and had bequeathed the entire world the eternal book of books

After the nation was exiled from its land by force it had kept its alliance to it in all the countries of its scattering, and did not cease to pray and hope to return to its country and renew in it its stately freedom

From this historic and traditional bond the jews had strived in each generation to return and to grasp their ancient homeland; and in the last generations returned to their land by the masses, and pioneers, immigrants and protectors had bloomed souls, revived their hebrew tongue, built villages and towns, and have established a settlement that's only growing, which is the ruler of its market and culture, seeking peace and defends itself, brings the blessing of progress to all the inhibitors of the land and turns its soul to kingdomly independence

In the year 5,657 to the jewish calendar (1897) the Zionist congress had gathered to the voice of the call of the envisioner of the vision of the jewish state Theodor Herzl and had announced the right of the jewish nation for a national rising in its land

This right was recognized in the Balfour declaration on the 2nd of November 1917 and was approved by a mandate from the United Nations, which had especially given international validity to the historic bond, that's between the jewish nation and the land of Israel and to the right of the jewish people to reestablish its national home

The holocaust that had happened to the nation of Israel in recent times, in which millions of jews in Europe had been overcome to the massacre, had reproved beyond a shadow of a doubt the necessity of a solution to the issue of the jewish nation from the lack of the homeland and of the independence by renewing the jewish country in the land of Israel, which will open wide the gates of the homeland to every jew and will grant the jewish nation the position of an equal nation between the family of the nations

The remainder of the expulsion that had survived the terrible Nazi massacre and the jews of other countries hadn't stopped to immigrate to the land of Israel, even with every difficulty, prevention and danger, and hadn't stopped to demand their right to life of dignity, freedom and straight-labor in the homeland of their people

In the second world war the jewish settlement in Israel had contributed its entire-part to the struggle of the free nations and peace against the powers of the evil Nazi, and with the blood of its soldiers and its war-effort had bought itself the right to be counted among the nations who established the alliance of the United Nations

On the 29th of November 1947 the United Nations Assembly had accepted a decision that obligates the establishment of a jewish country in the land of Israel; the assembly had demanded from the inhibitors of the land of Israel to hold within them all the required steps of their side to the execution of the decision. This recognition of the United Nations of the right of the jewish nation to establish its state is irrevocable

This is the natural right of the jewish nation to be as each and every nation - standing on its own in its sovereign state

Therefore, we had gathered, we the members of the people's council, the representatives of the jewish settlement and the Zionist movement, on the day of the end of the British mandate over the land of Israel, and by the validity of our natural and historic right and by the basis of the decision of the United Nations' Assembly, we thus declare the establishment of a jewish state in the land of Israel, it is the State Of Israel.

We determine that starting the moment of the end of the mandate, tonight, light to Saturday 6 of Iyar 5708 to the jewish calendar, 15th of May 1948, and until the establishment of the elected and regular governance structures of the country according to a constitution which will be decided by the elected constitutive committee not after the 1st of October 1948, the people's council will act as a temporary state council and its executive branch, the people's-governance, will act as the temporary governance of the jewish state, which will be called by the name Israel

The State Of Israel will be open to jewish immigration and to grouping the exiled nations; will work hard on the development of the land for the benefit of all its inhibitors; will be built on the bases of liberty justice and of peace to the light of the vision of Israel's prophets; will employ a full societal and stately equality of rights to all of its citizens with no differentiation by religion race and sex, will promise freedoms of religion, conscience, tongue, education and culture; will protect the holy sites of all religions and will be loyal to the principles of the Charter of the United Nations

The State Of Israel will be ready to cooperate with the Institutes and the representatives of the United Nations in the fulfillment of the decision of the assembly from the day of 29th of November 1947 and will act to the establishment of the financial unity of the land of Israel in its entirety

We call the United Nations to give a hand to the jewish nation in the building of its state and to accept the State Of Israel to the family of the nations

We call - even while in the blood-attack that's being wagered against us for months - to the people of the Arab nation that lives in the State Of Israel to keep the peace and to take their parts in the building of the state on the basis of full and equal citizenship and by the basis of suitable representativeness in all its institutions, the temporary and the permanent

We're extending a hand of peace and good neighborliness to all the neighboring countries and their people, and call them to cooperate and mutual help with the hebrew nation that's independent in its land. the State Of Israel is ready to contribute its part in a united effort towards the progress of the entire Middle East

We call to the jewish nation in all the Diasporas to unite around the settlement in immigration and in building, and to stand with us towards our days in the great war over the fulfillment of the yearning of the generations to Israel's redemption

Out of confidence in the might of Israel (also means god), we hereby sign with the sign of our hands for testimony of this declaration in the place of sitting of the temporary state council, on the land of the homeland, in the city of Tel Aviv, this day, evening of Shabbat, 5th of Iyar 5708 to the jewish calendar, 14 of May 1948

[very-lucky]

I have been deeply obsessed with Fields of Mistria since it launched and I just entered my Second Year on my farm, so I decided to compile a list of some things that I like about this game a lot so far.

You can jump. Over fences. There aren't gates (yet?), but you can jump and this isn't a thing you can do in any farming game. There's even a jump attack that you can unlock. It rocks.

Townsfolk will tell you what they like and what other townsfolk like. They may even give you the recipe for their favorite thing.

You can never plant a seed in the wrong season on accident. And if you plant a seed in the wrong place, you can dig it up before you water it to put it where you meant to have it.

You can make all your tools FOR FREE if you have the materials and doing that has the chance to give them power ups (once you've unlocked that skill)

NOT ONLY TOOLS BUT ARMOR ALSO. AND ARMOR DOESN'T TAKE UP INVENTORY SPACE IF YOU'RE WEARING IT.

You can decorate on half-squares. Get into it.

The relationships you make with townsfolk and the heart scenes that you have might just change things about the town itself. Highlighting Ryis for this one specifically.

The whole premise of the game is assisting a town after a disaster and providing disaster relief while also growing affection for each of the characters and the town as a whole. You do big projects to help the town and the town improves and provides you, the player, with more resources and activities to do.

The mines have different biomes and enemies and resources and COSMETICS that you can collect. There's really no shortage of things to collect here.

All the furniture sets play together in a really nice way where you are able to mix and match the looks you like. They're definite sets of furniture and some of them even have their own unique storage chests.

There's so much deep lore that I'm so excited about. It almost feels like by doing what there is of Early Access, I am now waiting for the next chapter to drop so I can learn more about this world and characters.

Inventory stacks limit at 999?! For everything?? I’ve never had a stack that big! (edited)

Characters outfits change every season.

You can always tell where villagers are on the map

Since Mistria is MAGICAL you can also grow crops in the winter.

That dragon is going to be romanceable. If the rumors are true, we may even have TWO romanceable dragons.

All the characters are interesting on their own and have relationships with each other beyond you. They are always having different conversations and talking about different stuff that they do and that other characters do and that YOU DO. I love them all. No flops.

I'm really hoping for more depth in the passage of time as the game develops. I would love to see either 1) a reason for time to be at a standstill in Mistria so it makes sense that the child characters are not aging as you spend multiple years in town or 2) time to actually progress and for characters to get older, especially as marriage and children come into the picture. I know this is a stretch and not everyone wants something like that... but I really liked it in A Wonderful Life as a concept and I think it would be neat here.

[steveharrington]

thinking about spring 2022 when i was in my last semester before graduating college. i was spending all day every day listening to lord huron, going to the river after class, and playing red dead redemption 2. i’d been playing rdr2 that entire year, and my favorite thing to do in the game was (and still is) to just roam in the woods with arthur and spend long stretches of time between missions to find all the smaller details and plots and happenstances that you can stumble on. and i was playing in my apartment i shared with my 3 friends, very well aware that we had limited nights left to watch movies and play games before i graduated, moved home, and didn’t see them anymore beyond the very rare occasions we could all line up our schedules to meet in our college town for a weekend, which i don’t think ever happened. as much as i tried to keep arthur in the woods, the game kind of insists on progressing and i found myself doing missions that pushed me closer and closer to the end. i already knew arthur would die, and i was experiencing like an insanely dramatic sense of dread unlike anything ive ever felt when just partaking in a fictional narrative. i felt like i was running out of time in real life, and then i’d play my cowboy game every night and i felt like arthur was this tangible symbol of time running out, and i felt like when he died that would just be it for this whole stage of my life. and i finished right before graduation and wept the whole time. but………now ive had a scary full time job for a year. and my own apartment. and i don’t get to see all my friends consistently, but some of them i do, and i started a new save file to play all over again with arthur miraculously revived. and i know he’ll die again, if i finish this file, and i know ill move out of this apartment eventually. but i can start a new save file in whatever new place i end up in, and it’s kinda like my little digital cowboy friend can always start over with me <3

[stylinsoncity]

This SEL timestamp takes place about a year after the events in Rio and a few months after they've toured the rest of South America. As mentioned in chp 25, they've started traveling to preternatural villages around the world. This covers some of that.

This is sort of integral to stories about vampires, but there's a lot of talk about feeding, etc. Just fyi!

Enjoy!

The Inner Village might be Harry’s favourite of all the preternatural villages they’ve been to. He’s not saying he’s ready to move to New York City and he can’t imagine Louis is either. But there are pockets of the Inner Village that are incredibly wonderfully gay and coming from their close-minded town, it’s a relief. There, they attend a drag show operated entirely by witches. They also meet Kristen and Teo from the Stonewall Coven, a found coven made up of queer witches. Harry has never met or heard of a found coven, at least not in Europe. He has a loving coven of his own, but the idea that there are witches uniting to support and love each other as family nearly makes him cry. Seated at their dimly lit bar table, the emotion is so obvious on Harry’s face, although only Louis catches it. He smiles and gently squeezes Harry’s hand in his own. The two of them garner some attention of their own, although they’re used to it by now. Even here in such a progressive place, a vampire and witch coupling up is rare.

“Like, sex is a different story,” Teo says. “Obviously, we’ve all fucked a vampire.”

Louis lifts his brows, his lips curling. “Are we just a fetish to you?”

Harry sputters, trying to complete a sip of his martini.

“I mean…” Teo shrugs. “I think most vampires would say fucking a witch is a fetish to them. And listen, I’m trans. I have to deal with men fetishizing me for that too. None of it’s ideal. But when it comes to witches and vampires, it’s like fire and water. Anything beyond a hookup is uncharted territory. And no one ever dares to try.”

“You should,” Louis says. “You’ll have more men to pick from. Ones who aren’t dickheads.”

“Well, if you have a twin brother, send him my way,” says Teo, their gaze lingering on Louis for a second longer than Harry likes.

“We were a bit like that at first, fire and water,” Harry cuts in. “But now, nothing makes more sense than this. We’ve just been told for centuries that witches and vampires can’t get on. And it’s not true.”

“And how long have you been dating?” Kristen asks. “Because if you say it’s only been a month or so, I’ll need more proof than that.”

“It’s been a little over a year officially,” Harry says.

“And also,” Louis says, lifting their joined hands from beneath the table, turning their hands so Harry’s ring catches the scarce light in the room. “We’re engaged.”

“Well, fuck,” Kristen says. And when Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s hand a second later, she adds, “Okay, I’m sold.”

It’s not to say that great love only exists between a vampire and a witch. Harry’s parents had a beautiful marriage, exactly the kind he wanted for himself. And Louis’ mum and Perry love each other deeply.

It’s only to say that great love exists in places some might not think to look. Sometimes it starts between rivals. Sometimes it takes years to flourish. Sometimes it feels like the universe is completely opposed. But sometimes it’s there waiting, in the most uncanny places, if you want it badly enough.

†

Every day in New York, they get up to something new. They tour museums and art galleries, including one where Louis buys him a painting and has it shipped to the estate for safekeeping. They dine at restaurants from Michelin-starred rooftop establishments to hole-in-the-wall haunts. They day drink (and night drink) and nap in parks in between. They make the most of their month-long stay. No, they won’t be relocating but Harry already knows they’ll be back. Often.

That day, after brunch and a bit of shopping, they retire to their rental penthouse to escape an incoming thunderstorm. The day isn’t a loss at all. He found the stick and poke kit he wanted so that Louis could attempt to tattoo him. After an order of sushi and a shared shower, they get started.

“Was nice to see Teo and Kristen again last night,” Harry says, mostly to distract himself from the initial shock of pain. “And all their friends too.”

“Yeah, they’re a fun lot,” Louis says. “Fucking crazy too. Crazier than us when we want to be.”

“I think Teo has a tiny crush on you.”

“Yeah, but it’ll go away.”

“Oh, so you agree?”

“When we hugged, their heart did a bit of a thing. That’s all.” Louis looks at him. “Now yours is too.”

“Do you think they’re attractive?”

Louis exhales a small laugh. “They’re objectively good-looking. Haven’t thought about it beyond that.”

“Everyone has a crush on you. It’s annoying,” Harry says.

“Who’s everyone?”

“In every place we’ve been to, there’s always someone who starts to fancy you a little. Isabelle in Argentina, remember? Damien? I think he was in Peru. Oh, when we went to Italy. The twins we met? Justine and Luca? They were both into you.”

“Isabelle was technically into both of us,” Louis says. “And I’ve got a list of my own, love. You’re just a bit better with names than I am. The girl with the pink hair last night? She couldn’t stop looking at you.”

“Venus?”

“Should’ve remembered that, to be fair. But yes.”

Harry doesn’t remember her looking at him, but maybe that’s the point.

“I don’t mind, so long as none of them get too close,” Louis says. “I know you’re all mine.”

Then he glances at Harry. Harry actually feels his heart skip a beat. Louis smiles and refocuses on his work. He’s tattooing a bird to match the one Harry tattooed on him a year ago. It’s just a simple outline and for his first shot at tattooing, it’s looking quite nice already.

“Does it hurt?” Louis asks.

Harry shrugs. “Not too much. You’re gentler than I am when I tattoo myself,” he says. He watches him wipe blood and ink away. A thought strikes him. “Do you feel thirsty doing that?”

Louis’ hand stills momentarily.

“Just a question,” Harry says tentatively.

“I always feel thirsty around you,” Louis says, his gaze focused intently on the tattoo. “I’ve said so before.”

“But not literally.”

“No, literally.”

“So, even after you’ve fed?”

“I’ve said so before,” Louis says again. “Even when I’ve fed, the thirst is still there. Just…quieter or something.”

“So, if you could keep drinking, you would?”

Louis pauses and looks at him, lifting the needle away from Harry’s skin. “I don’t get the question.”

Harry's senses tingle slightly due to a subtle shift in Louis' mood. He tries to choose his words carefully, but no matter how he twists and shapes the sentences in his head nothing really works.

“I’d never hurt you,” Louis says. “It’s impossible for me to hurt you. Because I love you and you’re my mate. And if something were to happen to you and you weren’t here, I wouldn’t want to be either.”

“I know that,” Harry says quietly. And he should leave it there, but— “I don’t know if that fully answers the question.”

“Have you got infinite blood? ‘Cause that’d be news to me. There’s no universe where if I kept drinking, it wouldn’t kill you, is there? So, no. The answer is fuck no.”

“Why are you getting so angry? It’s just a question.”

“Why are you asking me if I want to drain you of blood?” Louis fires back.

“It’s not like it’d kill me, Louis. I’d come back.”

Louis blinks. “What?”

“I can’t die. We’ve established that.”

“But you did die!” Louis says. His voice breaks. His jaw locks. Willow finally appears in the room and curls herself around Louis’ ankle. After a breath, Louis tries again. “Your heart stopped for long enough that you were dead. I know it.”

“Yes, but I came back,” Harry says.

“But you still died, yeah? Whether you came back or not, you’d be dead. So, no, I don’t want to fucking kill you. I don’t think about it. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Okay.”

“Now, explain to me why it sounds like you want me to?” And when Harry doesn’t immediately refute that, Louis’ eyes go wide. He puts the needle down on the sterile tray beside them with the small ink pots and stained tissues. “Are you actually serious right now?”

Harry just wants to be honest. Because truthfully, he never considered these thoughts so egregious, but he also never dared to share them with Louis either. Now, that he mostly has, it feels deceitful to not come out with all of it. And he’s also learned that it’s better to expose the whole truth as uncomfortable and as painful as it may be. Better to do that than spend an eternity keeping this to himself.

“Before, when I thought I’d die from the curse, I thought about it,” Harry says. “But only ‘cause I feel safest with you, and it seemed like the most ideal way to go if I had to go at all.”

Louis laughs. Actually cackles. And stands. “Good thing you didn’t think to ask. I would’ve assumed you’d gone completely insane.” He yanks his latex glove off and tosses it onto the coffee table.

“Where are you going?”

“I need a drink,” Louis says, strolling off towards the kitchen.

Harry puts his face in his palms for a moment. They bicker on occasion, solely because they’re both stubborn, highly opinionated people. But he can’t remember the last time either of them was genuinely cross with the other. He feels Louis’ cloying anger even when they’re in separate rooms.

Willow lingers in the corridor, visibly uncertain about who needs the most comfort. Mentally, Harry sends her to Louis. He could use a drink himself. He loiters there on the couch for a minute or two longer, waiting for Louis to come back. And when he doesn’t, Harry sighs and goes after him.

In the kitchen, Louis has a beer open in front of him while he taps away furiously at his phone.

“Will you please relax?” Harry asks. 

“No, I don’t think so,” Louis says. “Here we are having a nice night and you reveal you’ve got a death kink or whatever it is.”

“I haven’t got a death kink,” Harry says. “For fuck’s sake…”

Louis sets his phone down. “When you had that thought back then, did you also consider what it’d be like for me? To watch you slip away? To be the cause of that?”

“I did, actually. Which is why I didn’t bring it up back then. I knew you wouldn’t do it.”

“Because I can’t.”

“Fine. But you clearly don’t know how it feels for me either. On the receiving end of things. It’s like…euphoric. It feels like I could just sink into it and stay there forever. And I’m sorry if that worries you or whatever. I’m not saying I want to die. I’m not saying I want you to kill me. I’m saying when you feed, if there was a way to feel the way I feel infinitely, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. I’m just saying I’ve thought about it. That’s all.”

“But that’s impossible. Without me killing you.”

“Yes, you’ve said. I get it.”

“I could never.”

“You said that too,” Harry says. “There’s the blood curse anyway, so—”

“Even without the blood curse…never.”

“Okay,” Harry says. “I’m sorry I mentioned it at all, alright? Can you finish my tattoo, please? Before you get drunk?”

Louis rolls his eyes and has another swig of his beer.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says again. “Come on, Lou, please?”

Louis looks at him, his eyes slightly narrowed as he thinks. With a shake of his head and a sigh, he says, “Yeah, alright,” and starts back to the living room. Quietly he puts his glove back on and sterilises the needle. Then he starts on the tattoo again.

Harry pushes his fingers through Louis’ fringe. “Are you cross with me?”

“No,” Louis says. “Just let me concentrate. Or I’ll tattoo a penis here and be done with it.”

“I don’t mind a penis, though, do I?”

“A lopsided one,” Louis clarifies. “With very hairy wrinkly balls.”

Harry laughs and relaxes his arm. “Such an arsehole.”

“I can add one of those too.”

When they laugh, the tiny hint of tension left between them is hardly of any consequence at all. And later, when they crawl into bed, Louis draws him into his arm like always. Harry traces his collarbone with his fingertip while listening to Willow scurrying about on the floor. For a cat who can phase silently through the air, she’s making plenty of noise with every move. When she darts up onto the bed and then immediately flings herself to the floor, Louis laughs.

“You wouldn’t think a familiar would get the Zoomies, would you?” Harry says.

“She’s just like any cat, I guess,” Louis says.

“I don’t think she’d like that,” Harry says. “I think she considers herself a very unique, one-of-a-kind cat.”

“Makes sense, considering who she’s bound to.”

“Are you saying I think too highly of myself?”

“No,” Louis says. “You should think highly of yourself. And you’re definitely one of a kind.”

Harry smiles. “So are you. There could never be anyone like you.”

Louis turns and presses a kiss on Harry’s forehead. Harry nestles more comfortably into Louis’ side, his eyes slipping shut.

“I’m sorry I lost it a bit earlier,” Louis says quietly.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t share things with me. Even something like that.”

“I don’t. But if it’s something you’re uncomfortable with, I should be more careful. And I will be.”

Then there’s silence and more inexplicable tension. Harry suddenly feels less sleepy than he did seconds ago. He lifts his head off Louis’ shoulder and looks at him.

“It’s impossible for me to do it, I mean that,” Louis says, meeting his gaze.

“I know, Louis,” Harry says. “And I’m not asking you to.”

“But I am who I am,” Louis goes on. “Or what I am. So it’d be a lie to say I haven’t thought about it.”

Harry hesitates. “About draining…”

Louis pinches his eyelids. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Okay. How would you put it then?”

“There’ve been times after I’ve fed, especially…if we’re fucking at the same time, when I want to drink again or I want to keep drinking, even though I know… And there was a time when I was drunk and it was a little hard to stop.”

As he speaks, he doesn’t look at Harry. As if he’s ashamed. Harry reclines again and takes Louis’ face between his palms.

“Look at me. That’s alright,” Harry says. “I love you. I love how much you want me.”

Louis winces at that. “That makes it sound more innocent than it is.”

“Whatever. I won’t lie and say it’s not…sort of exciting? And like…It’s not that much different from when you choke me a little, is it?”

“It’s completely different.”

“Not to me. Not completely. You say you wouldn’t hurt me but spanking hurts,” Harry says with a laugh. “And I like it.”

“Also, different.”

“If you say so,” Harry says. “I know that for you it’s something you have to control. For me, I know you’re in control, so I don’t worry. I just let go. And it feels nice to let go. I know you’ve got me.”

“I do,” Louis says. “Always.”

“You’re getting enough to drink, though, yeah? Like that’s not the reason you want to keep going, is it?”

“Trust me, it’s not. I get enough,” Louis says.

“You’re just greedy then.”

“I’m a vampire,” Louis says. “Greed is what we’re all about.”

“You’re not like most vampires, though.”

“Maybe not, but there are things that are just biological. Like my bond with you. Can’t do anything about that. And no matter what, if you say something like you said today, offering yourself up like that, there’s a part of me, even if it’s small, that wants to take you up on it. And just…devour you.”

Harry looks at his mouth. “And I’m meant to be afraid of that?”

“Maybe,” Louis says. “Not of me, but the general idea of a vampire wanting you in that way, yeah.”

“You’re the only vampire that matters.”

Louis grins, his ego visibly stroked. Harry can’t take his eyes off of him.

“If it were any other vampire, I’d never say the things I said today. It’s only because it’s you. I trust you. Completely.”

Louis looks at him. He takes Harry’s hand and presses a quick kiss to his palm. “I can’t do it, though.”

“I know,” Harry says. “I thought I lost you that day too, you know? I felt like I couldn’t breathe. And like the world was closing in on me or something. So, I know what it’s like. And I’d never want you to have to go through that again.”

Louis nods. “Me neither.”

Harry looks at his mouth again. “But I think you should feed,” he says. “Right now.”

Louis lifts his brows. With a small exhale, he says, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Literally the opposite. I’m offering you a late-night snack.”

Louis laughs. “You’re definitely that,” he says. He licks his lips. Then, after a second, he leans in and kisses Harry slowly, capturing his jaw between his fingers and his thumb. He kisses him for so long Harry nearly forgets what they were talking about at all. He’s hypnotized by Louis’ tongue against his own. He’s lulled by the comfort of their bodies close.

Their lives are not perfect because no one’s is. They still have occasional worries, especially when they have to decide which parties and gatherings to attend back home when everywhere they go, they’re a topic of discussion or gossip. Returning to Ravenoir even for short periods is often stressful. And like earlier has proven, they can still misunderstand each other.

Life might not be perfect but being with Louis is. There’s nothing questionable or unsatisfactory about this kiss or the way Louis holds him. There’s nothing as sublime as the moment he pulls away suddenly, holds Harry’s jaw firmly and sinks into his jugular.

Harry shudders and digs his fingers into Louis’ bicep. The burst of pain is quickly washed over with warmth that floods his whole body. His head feels light and airy as if he’s floating on a cloud. Weightless and worriless with nothing to fear. With Louis’ need so evident and certain and all-encompassing.

Louis pulls away with a deep breath and kisses him again. Now that Harry can move, he moves with purpose, shoving Louis' pyjamas down past his waist, wrestling with his own.

“Thought I was only getting a late-night snack,” Louis says.

“It’s more like a late-night buffet,” Harry says. “All you can eat.”

Louis laughs as he sinks down Harry’s body, leaving kisses all along his chest and abs. “Mm, I do like the sound of that,” he says.

Harry will have to blame it on all the pent-up tension, good and bad, but when Louis deepthroats his cock, he thinks he could come with just another second more of that pressure. Then Louis pulls off, smiling as if he knows it, and licks a few times along the length of his cock instead. Because as he’s clarified thoroughly today, Louis is a vampire. Vampires like to toy with and tease their prey. And Harry knows Louis doesn’t think of him as prey, but sometimes Harry feels like he is. And he doesn’t mind at all.

The truth is that Harry would bare every part of himself to Louis without hesitation or fear. He would accept whatever Louis wanted to give or take from him. Maybe if it were another vampire, that sort of thinking would be insane. But it’s solely this vampire who matters. No other would do.

He often likes to hold Louis atop him after they’ve come to prolong the closeness. He likes the weight of him. He likes running his fingers through his hair until Louis drifts off. "Louis?"

"Hm?"

“It’s not difficult, is it? Feeling thirsty all the time?” Harry asks quietly. Because the thought is on his mind and if he doesn’t ask, he’ll just stay awake worrying about it.

“No,” Louis says sleepily. “Not at all."

"You're sure?"

"I promise," Louis says. He draws a breath. "Thirst is tied to emotion. Like lust and love… And you’re a triple threat, that’s all. You’re hot. You taste incredible. Can’t help that. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Harry smiles. "Makes sense..." He listens to Louis’ breathing evening out. He feels his limbs loosening further. “Wait, what’s the third thing?”

“What?”

“You said triple threat.”

“Oh,” Louis says. “You’re hot. You taste incredible.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

“Just tell me,” Harry pleads.

“You’re the love of my life, Harry,” Louis says. “I reckon that’s the biggest one of all.”

It’s not the first time Louis has said so, but it’s also impossible to get used to something like that. Hearing the person he loves most affirm the inverse is true will never cease to amaze him. So, he feels his eyes prickle slightly, but he doesn’t actually burst into tears or anything. He simply wraps his arms more tightly around his fiance. “And you’re mine.”

“I know,” Louis says. “Can I sleep now, babe?”

“Yeah. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Good night.”

“Night,” Louis says.

“I love you so much.”

“Harry.”

“Okay. Sleep well.”

“You too,” Louis says. And then after a second, he whispers, “I love you.”

Willow hops up onto the bed in the midst of their laughter at which point, they mutually decide to turn their love on her. Because great love is also infinite, which means there’s plenty to spare.

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

My Five Headcanons for Beyond Evil (because I apparently just enjoy 🎶 pain and suffering 🎶)

1.) It’s almost five years before Dongsik can go visit Jeongje in the mental institution on his own. He’s learned what the limits of his mercy are, and so for those first five years he brings people with him when he goes. It’s usually just him and Jihwa, so it’s not bad; they sit together in an atrium open to visitors and talk for a while about what’s new in Manyang while Jeongje sketches. During one particularly bad day, Juwon’s lingering insecurity and guilt complex makes him confront Dongsik over whether his own offers to come along to these visits have been rejected because it would be Dongsik sitting with two reminders of Yuyeon’s death: the son of the man who ran over his sister, and the other man who ran over his sister. Dongsik explains (gently) that his worry is over triggers of a different kind. Because back when they were still flirting with (investigating) each other, he’d called in a few favors to figure out certain sealed parts of Juwon’s family history. During visiting hours, the atrium is full of institutionalized women who are about his mother’s age, as well as their visiting families.

2.) Kwon Hyuk is a survivor. Ambition requires adaptability. He bounces back from setbacks and disappointments (like his mentor/father figure), and he cuts people out of his life if they threaten his progress forward (see: previous). Rich people are tools that can be used or discarded along the way, except for one (1) poor little rich boy with a bad attitude who nevertheless starts calling him hyung one day when he’s fourteen. So while it doesn’t make sense for his career to continue a relationship with a demoted officer who abandons ambition and voluntarily (???) gives up one bad job in a small town for a worse job in a smaller town, deep down Kwon Hyuk knows that he’s hanging on to Han Juwon (hyung’s rules, nonnegotiable, die mad about it Juwonnie).

3.) The first time Juwon laughs—like, fully and genuinely laughs—in front of Dongsik is when they’re at the Chief’s lake-house one evening in early spring. They’ve had a couple of drinks and Dongsik is trying to show a cringing Juwon his interpretation of a Stray Kids dance choreo out at the edge of the water when he accidentally trips over his own fishing line. He stumbles for a few steps then star-fishes into the muddiest part of the water half way through the chorus, but the water’s shallow so he surfaces fast like a playful dog, shaking his hair out cheerfully. He’s just opening his mouth to claim it’s all part of the dance routine when he hears a soft sound from behind him. Juwon has waded into the water with a hand extended to help him up, and he’s laughing, and Dongsik finds himself at a rare loss for words. Juwon’s face is lit up, eyes scrunched and shining, with one arm pressed over his mouth, like he’s used to muffling the sound. So naturally, when Dongsik accepts the outstretched hand and pulls himself up, his next move is to gently tug Juwon’s other arm away from his face so he can get the full view. He has a mental picture of each person he loves, here and gone alike, and for the rest of his life the picture of Juwon that exists in his mind’s eye is of this moment, Juwon standing in front of him calf-deep in muddy water and laughing breathlessly, enveloped in the golden hour haze of the sun setting behind him.

4.) Jihoon accidentally becomes the mayor of Manyang.

5.) Once Han Gihwan finally dies, his life insurance payout is sent to Juwon, who goes wandering in the reeds for a few hours. Dongsik sits in his car on a hill nearby, giving space but making sure Juwon doesn’t ever fully disappear from his sight, and answering Juwon’s phone to field calls on his behalf. Juwon eventually comes back to the car and tells Dongsik that he’s going to use the money as a foundation for a women’s shelter. Dongsik approves, and names the shelter Balsam Flower Home.