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#the us kills its own people on the regular
unlovablereject · 1 year
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Tired of seeing hate and antisemitism so much.
People are showing just how antisemitic our society is. Saw someone comment on Facebook "this is proof that Israel has always been evil." Then thanks the xtian prophet. People believing half assed researched "proof" of Israel being evil and supporting this.
Palistine needs to look inward and see Hamas killed our people in the middle of the night after a HIGH HOLIDAY killing 2000 INOOCENT people in one night and taking hostages. The death toll has taken more Israelis than Palistinians if you do math... Hamas does not care about his people, palistine is land stolen from Israel. Israel helped his citizens because he wouldn't. Giving them asylum. There were several offers of peace that were REFUSED BY HAMAS!!! He wants to destroy Israel and every Jew.
The US has committed more atrocious war crimes than even this. Like nuking Hiroshima and it STILL HAS EFFECTS ON THE PEOPLE TO THIS DAY, because Japan bombed one military base. They also let people die when they could have helped. US let WW2 last as long as it did, it has blood on its hands.
Then I want to remind US citizens that the twin towers had a death toll of about 2000. That was in 2001. They still have military power in the region and have killed over ten times more people.
The US is the biggest war criminal in the world. They can't even govern their own country, stay out of other peoples' affairs until your two party system has two working parties, k? Why are you still killing innocent people in Iraq when no one in the attacks was from Iraq.
Your government blew up their own towers, if you know anything about melting temperatures of steel, jet fuel, physics, and just plain knowledge of how buildings like that are meant to withstand earthquakes, so the planes didn't destroy the entire towers. They aimed so high that it would have taken out the top. The bottom should have been intact as in the beams and structure. Why were the beams all cut on a pretty diagonal line in the same way? It was an excuse to fix Bush Sr.'s bad mistake putting terrorists in charge of the country (Iraq) during his term as president.
Put on a big show and get people on board for a war, it happens every time. Do research before you listen to some random information that has no legitimate sources. It's not okay to spread hate.
Antisemitism isn't a good look on your country atm.
I will pray for Israel until my last breath, I believe in Hashem and His words of Torah.
It's just okay to kill Jews I guess. I see it everywhere.
Police say we are safe. Most of them probably hiding fucking hate tattoos.
I want peace, but the human race is literally not capable of peace. Hate IS humanity.
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anotherpapercut · 2 years
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my city has 2 gay bars. recently several people were attacked AGAIN at one of them :/
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kakusboyfriend · 9 months
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Oh god since I'm thinking about dbz esp viola again I should make a comparison between him and buu (super buu preferably) and how different they are from one another. Literally 'average guy' vs 'mass destruction magic homunculus'
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frecklenog · 8 months
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i want you all to understand this.
insulin pens are very often used by diabetic children (or their parents, but they were very easy to use during the short time i was prescribed them when i was a child myself). they’re less cumbersome, produce less waste, and are far easier than pulling insulin from a vial with a single use syringe, as syringes are much more susceptible to air bubbles, which result in the diabetic not getting enough medication. i’m explaining this part because i know that some diabetic adults do also use them, and i’m sure that that’s true of diabetic adults in palestine with such scarce resources. when it’s life or death, you can’t really be picky.
the israeli occupation is now banning insulin pens from entering gaza.
lack of insulin results in diabetic ketoacidosis — essentially a very, very dangerous version of the effects of the keto diet. insulin is a key for the sugar from one’s food (both slow and fast acting, since all food has some carbohydrates, from nuts to potatoes to table sugar) to get from their bloodstream into their cells. without insulin, the body resorts to eating through its own fat stores rather than the sugar it cannot access and tries to flush the excess glucose that is in the blood through the urine. this results in weight loss, headaches, nausea, dehydration, blurred vision, abdominal pain, impaired mental faculties, and, if left untreated, will result in a coma, and eventually death within a matter of weeks. not “can.” it will kill you if not treated, and was largely considered a lethal diagnosis until insulin was discovered in the early 1900s and made readily available in 1922.
i’ve been in dka. admittedly, i was very young and have blocked much of it out. but i do remember that it fucking sucked. i couldn’t focus on anything, i was ravenous no matter how much i ate, and the room spinning to the point i felt like i was going to throw up became an increasingly regular occurrence. i was seven years old and wasting away like i was starved. i was dying. a few more days, and i likely would’ve gone into a coma and might not be here now.
to inflict that, willingly and knowingly, on innocent people, is nothing short of a crime against humanity, and violates the geneva conventions (item 2.a.ii. torture or inhumane treatment, including biological experiments and item 2.a.iii. willfully causing great suffering or serious injury to body or health). not that the israeli occupation cares, of course, as south african prosecutors have already extensively detailed their crimes in the icj, and this one in particular has already been committed near-countless times.
this entire occupation is a genocide, and this is only one more nail in that coffin. but, as a diabetic — as a human being who has been in that state and was lucky enough to have the resources to live almost another fifteen years (with the anniversary of my own diagnosis about halfway through next month), i can’t find the words to express my disgust and rage anymore. maybe it’s selfish to be so deeply impacted by this particular blow. i don’t know. but these people have done nothing wrong but be disabled in gaza, and as someone with the same disability, i know that no one deserves this, even if they have committed a crime (which, again, these civilians, largely children, have not). i will not fucking stand for it.
we need a ceasefire. we need an end to the occupation. we need a free palestine. now.
here’s a masterpost of how you can help.
EDIT: here’s a post on how to help diabetics in gaza specifically
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stackslip · 3 days
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fujimoto is the absolute king of creating a world where mass death is a regular occurrence and yet every single time it feels singularly devastating. i've seen people say his work is nihilistic, that people die over nothing--i profoundly disagree! again and again, it is made clear that the deaths and horrors in chainsaw man aren't random acts of god, and that the people who die aren't random faces in a crowd but people who are willingly sacrificed in the name of social cohesion and the comfort of a few. the people killed by the gun devil all had names, lives, ages that were inescapable and their deaths are just as bad of a tragedy's as aki's. asa's mom's death might have been forgotten by all, and yet it has a profound impact on asa's own life and outlook. the people convinced to commit suicide by falling had long discussions about their everyday life before they fell off their balcony. it is power and nayuta's deaths--people who mattered little to makima and to barem, who were simply seen as tools for an end--that utterly crush denji and awaken pochita. himeno lost her partners, one by one, and every time she got more and more depressed. these are real people, all of them! their lives mattered! death is a normal occurence in chainsaw man, but the loss of a life is a tragedy every time
most importantly; most of these mass death events, as normalized as they are, are not random or natural. they're the result of devils being used as tools, of the powerful using those that they consider belong to them as payment for their comfort or to further their goals. in chapter one, denji got murdered after a lifetime of abuse as payment for his abuser's eagerness for power. the president of the united states pays for the gun devil to fight makima with one year from each american's life. the japanese government pays for makima's every death with the death of a citizen. public safety regularly sends its employees to cut their throats for a devil to wipe out a building. the german government contracted santa claus and gave her children in return. the chainsaw man cult used its desperate, scared child members to gain an army.
and now, foreign children are given citizenship simply so they can be gunned down coldly and used as blood and payment to use chainsaw man and make scared, rich old men live longer. idk how much more explicit you can be here. look at these kids! do their lives mean nothing? they're drawn in loving detail. they're real people being sent to be butchered!
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death in chainsaw man isn't meaningless. far from it! this isn't saying "this world is absurd and has no meaning". this is about exploitation. chainsaw man has always been about exploitation and abuse, at its very core. these people mean something. these are real human beings, being fed to the grinder, again and again. they're being fed to it BY the rich and powerful, by their governments, by their employers, by their abusers. hell, yoru has fed her own children to this grinder, just to get a little more. ownership and greed, this is the core of what's happening. this is murder, not random acts of violence!
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ghelgheli · 9 months
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I don't think now, at the time Iran is viciously defending against US imperialism, is the time to be making left-communist critiques of them.
The Islamic Republic of Iran is not some unimpeachable bastion of anti-imperialism in western asia and it is dangerous to withhold critique just because it is opposed to US hegemony. The IRI is a theocratic ethnostate pushing back against euro-american imperialism while enacting its own centuries-long imperialism on the ethnic and religious minorities that fall within and around its borders. On a weekly if not daily basis, the IRGC, the paramilitary basijis, as well as the regular police harass, arrest, and kill not only such minorities as Kurds, Balochs, and Ahwazi Arabs (don't have to look far for this), but also ethnic Persian political dissidents and gender and sexual minorities.
The history of the 1979 revolution speaks to the development and rise of Khomeinism in the 1970s as a bourgeoisie opportunism that claimed the martyrs of Iranian communists while at every turn promising the disenfranchised baazaaris the protection of their private property. The purge of the Mojahedin in the months after the revolution, the associated purge of all deemed communist, and the immediate suppression of Kurdish autonomy movements in the northwest, all form the legacy of Khomeinism. It is important to be honest about this, to be honest about the reformulation of institutional misogyny and the other ills of Pahlavi Iran under the IRI, while simultaneously recognizing that the revolution was successful in one thing: exorcising the puppeteering hands of the united states from the country. It is important not to fall into the trap of valorizing an imperial power, while understanding that the only liberatory future for the people on the plateau and surrounding regions is revolution from within and below, not external intervention. These are compatible and, indeed, complementary halves of a whole politic!
As a Tehrani, and particularly as an ethnic Persian/Iranian Azerbaijani (Iranian Azerbaijanis being subject to linguistic and cultural suppression, but nonetheless perhaps the most integrated minority), it strikes me as my responsibility to talk about this. And it is something I talk about regardless of what is going on. As an esoteric Shi'a, it especially seems like my responsibility to talk about what Khomeinism has wrought.
And all of that is to say nothing of the fact that in my post I was just critiquing left-Shi'a infatuation with Khomeinism qua ideology, with no mention of the IRI—whose relationship with Khomeinism is varied, nebulous, and I would say secondary to the three decades of theocratic nationalism that has developed since Khomeini's death.
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shellshocklove · 4 months
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does anyone know where the love of god goes? | joel miller
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pairing/AU: joel miller x female!reader – post breakout & no ellie AU
summary: crossing the country alone as he searches for his brother, joel stumbles on a farm. winter is closing in, and against his better judgement he's convinced to stay. as the frost covers the land like a blanket, a warmth ignites in his heart for the young woman who's home he finds himself in.
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so minors dni!!! canon-typical violence, age gap (reader is mid to late twenties), swearing, dead animals, joel being a sad man, masturbation, no use of y/n
a/n: i soft launched this ao3 last month and it flopped lol so i'm gonna keep my expectations low for this series. anyways this has been a story i've been thinking about since probably october. this is the first part of what i'm hoping will be 3 parts. happy reading i guess
main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3 / playlist
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.
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The leaves rustled against Joel’s boots with every step he took. The sun had turned traitor cold, and he couldn’t feel its kiss against his cheek no more. The trees shivered above him in the wind – the only sound for miles except his heavy steps.
Did he still exist, with no one around? Joel had never minded being alone; after the breakout he’d found that he sometimes preferred it. People could be… well, when you’ve seen the worst of humanity, maybe it’s best to leave it behind.
And wasn’t he the worst of humanity? The things he’d done. The people he’d killed, and killed for. The people he’d lost.
But he had to keep going. For Tess. He promised.
Every night as he stared into the flames his thoughts would drift to her – the memories flickering in the fire. They should’ve never gone through that museum – it was supposed to have been empty – they should’ve never left Boston in the first place. Now Tess is gone because of him, him and his stupid plan to find his brother.
And for what? How is he ever gonna find Tommy?
Joel didn’t even know where he was. Nebraska? South-Dakota? Maybe he’d made it to Wyoming and just didn’t know it? Abe had told him ‘Cody Tower’, but Joel hadn’t seen anything other than mother nature for weeks.
Everything had started to look the same. Trees and more trees, a mountain in the distance, a grey and heavy sky above him. He’d been walking for forever. Slowly he moved west– or at least he thought he was. On the days where the sun hung high in the sky and wasn’t shielded behind a cloudy partition, he liked to watch it as it dipped below the earth. As the days turned shorter and shorter, the display of color had started to get more vivid. Joel would watch the light blue turn red and bloody, fiery tongues of flames licking over the horizon while the sharp edges of the mountains, and the triangular shapes of the trees faded into an intense black– like the shape of the mountain and the trees had been cut out with scissors. There wasn’t much to stay alive for anymore– but Joel lived for those few moments where nature painted with fire. Humanity might’ve gone to shit, but the cyclical regularity of mother nature gave Joel a small sense of peace.
But he missed the kiss of the sun against his cheek now. He’d moved into a large forest a few days ago. Tall trees hovered over him like giants and cast shadows down at him. It was colder here than out in the open country, but at least he’d been somewhat shaded from the rain pouring from the grey cover above his head the last few days.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
The sound stopped Joel in his tracks. Muscle memory worked on its own, gripping the shotgun slung over his shoulder. He listened for the sound again, to the steady rhythm echoing through the forest.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
With slow calculated steps Joel walked in the direction of the sound with the shotgun held tightly to his chest, his finger hovered over the trigger. The chopping sound got louder as he closed in on a man. He couldn’t tell his age with the man’s back turned – but he was strong – Joel could tell from how hard the man’s axe hit the tree trunk.
Taking another silent step, Joel got in position, “How ‘bout you slowly turn around and place that axe on the ground.”
Joel’s voice was hoarse after no use, but still cold and calculated as he spoke his order. He could see he’d startled the man, probably thinking he was alone, just like Joel had thought mere minutes ago.
The man obeyed, turning around slowly. He was older than Joel, maybe mid-seventies, maybe older if the wrinkles and creases around his eyes and nose were to be believed. His hair was white as snow matching his unkempt beard. Joel caught his eye. Strong and steady, no trace of fear one would think a man would feel while having a gun pointed at them.
Joel’s grip around the gun tightened. He wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger if that’s where this was headed. The man watched him calmly before he bent his knees, throwing the axe haphazardly on the ground.
“Kick it over here,” Joel commanded again, and the man obeyed, kicking the axe clumsily towards Joel.
Slowly Joel crept closer, gun still pointed at the man. He locked the heel of his shoe against the shaft, dragging the axe behind him and out of the way.
“Hands where I can see ‘em.”
“Are you going to kill me, son?”
The man’s question puzzled Joel. He said it so calmly, like how you’d ask someone to pass the salt.
“That depends on you.” Joel’s answer pulled at the old man’s lips, a small huff of a laugh escaping them.
“Well, you’re the one with the gun. I think it depends on you.”
Joel tightened his grip on the shotgun again – he didn’t know why –to frighten the man? He didn’t seem very frightened.
“Are you alone?” Joel asked.
“Not anymore,” the man answered.
“Don’t be a smartass,” Joel gritted through his teeth, “who you travelin’ with?”
“No one,” the man’s eyes never left Joel, “I live at a farm about a mile away.”
“Take me to it.”
The man walked with a limp Joel noticed. It was barely there, you wouldn’t see it if you didn’t pay attention, but it was there. The man acted tough enough, but his body revealed his weaknesses. It would be easy to kill him, Joel thought, if it came to that.
He followed the man through the trees with his gun pointed at his back. When they reached the end of the forest a clearing revealed itself. They followed a path through a field of, tall but wilted, brown grass until they reached an overgrown gravel road with a fence running along it. Looking out in the distance, Joel could see small spots of white and black wool. The gravel moaned under their feet as they closed in on a small farm. A two-story house sat in the middle of the barnyard where it was surrounded by a barn who’d seen better days, a silo, and a smaller farmhouse – a stable – Joel noticed as they walked closer.
The man trudged up the front stairs of the main farmhouse, a hand on the handrail keeping him steady.
“Put that gun away would you, son? I don’t want you frightening my wife.” The man broke the silence between them, speaking for the first time since they left the woods.
Joel’s grip on his shotgun didn’t loosen. How could he be sure that this man’s ‘wife’ wasn’t some gang of raiders hiding behind the front door? A question he asked the man through gritted teeth when he turned around to look at Joel.
“There’s nothing of the sort around here,” the man said, “we don’t even see any infected.”
When Joel didn’t say anything, and didn’t lower the gun, the man spoke again, “Who are you?”
“Just someone passin’ through,” Joel answered, making the man chuckle.
“You’re something else, passer-througher,” the old man smiled before he turned around again and stepped inside, leaving Joel on the porch alone.
Abandoned outside he lowered his gun slightly. Inside he could hear muffled voices, a deeper one, definitely the old man, and a brighter one, a woman’s voice. He listened, trying to make out their words with no prevail. The man seemed to have spoken the truth up until now. He most definitely lived on this farm – a seemingly normal farm. This man was just someone making an honest living – even after the apocalypse.
Lowering the gun completely, Joel put the safety on before he slung it over his shoulder. Taking a hollowed step towards the front door, movement in the window to the right of him caught his eye. It was there and then it was gone – just a ruffle of blonde curtains. Then, the door opened revealing an elderly woman.
The man’s wife.
“Welcome, traveler,” she greeted, stepping aside to let Joel in.
He passed through the doorway with a “Thank you, ma’am,” never forgetting his manners even after pointing a gun at her husband.
Inside it looked like a picture taken straight out of a Homes & Gardens magazine. The house was cozy, but it was small. He’d been welcomed into what probably used to be a parlor, but now served its purpose as their living room. It was hard to get a read on the house. Not like those open-floor plan houses he’d built too many of back before the outbreak – this was old, maybe hundreds of years old. The floorboard creaked under his shoes as he walked deeper into the living room, the rest of the house locked away like a secret behind three closed doors. The man was seated in a lounge chair by the fireplace, watching Joel with an expression Joel found it hard to decipher.
“Would you like some tea?” the woman asked, “It’s peppermint from our garden.”
Joel turned his head to the woman. She must be around the same age as the old man, Joel thought. He cleared his throat before he answered with a nod, “Thank you, ma’am.”
She pointed to the sofa, urging him to sit down with a smile before she disappeared through one of the doors to what Joel thought must be the kitchen. He felt the old man watching him as he slid his backpack off his shoulders, placing it on the creaky wooden floor behind the sofa. Joel hesitated for just a second when placing the shotgun up against the back, but decided he wasn’t in any imminent danger.
Joel almost groaned as he sat down. He’d been walking for so long, slept on the hard ground for months, he’d almost forgotten what a comfortable chair was. It almost felt surreal, being invited in for tea, like the outbreak had never happened. Here, it was like the time had stood still.
“So,” the man started, “where are you heading to if you’re just ‘passin’ through’?”
Joel cleared his throat again, “I’m lookin’ for my brother,” he answered truthfully, “last I heard he was somewhere in Wyoming.”
“If you’re going to Wyoming, then what you’re doing all the way up here?” The man queried with a chuckle.
Annoyed, Joel grinded his teeth, “Not many signs in the fuckin’ woods are there?” He huffed.
“I guess not,” the man shrugged, “but you’ve made a heck of a detour… where did you come from? Texas? You sound it.”
“Boston.”
“Boston?” the man didn’t hide his surprise, breathing out chuckles in disbelief, “I’ll give it to you, that’s one long trip.”
Joel only huffed in agreement, turning his head from the man to the window overlooking the barnyard.
“Well,” the man broke the growing silence between the two men, “you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner and for the night– you look like you could need a hot meal and a warm bed.”
Joel’s instinct was to say no, but before he could the front door opened, revealing a young woman. You.
You stopped dead in your tracks as you laid your eyes on Joel, “Oh!”.
The door slammed behind you. Under your arm you were carrying a metal bucket filled with apples. You were beautiful, young, but still beautiful – Joel couldn’t deny it.
“This is…” The man paused.
“Joel.” He cleared his throat, introducing himself, “Joel Miller.”
“Mr. Miller is just passing through– he’s looking for his brother,” the old man explained to you.
You nodded at the information, sat the bucket down before you reached out a hand for Joel to take, introducing yourself. Your hand in his was warm and soft while his own dwarfed yours, rough and calloused. He couldn’t help but think about what his hands had done, the people they’d killed. He shouldn’t be tainting yours, painting them red. Joel quickly drew his hand back, balling it into a fist at his side.
Joel looked over at the old man, “Your daughter?” he asked with a tilt of his head in your direction.
“Oh, no,” the man answered with a playful smile, “You’re not the first person ‘passin’ through’ who’s shown up on our doorstep.”
The door to the kitchen opened to reveal the old woman with a teapot in her hand, and a stacked tower of teacups in the other.
“Let me help you Alma,” you said, taking the teacups from the old woman’s hand before placing them on the table; one in front of Joel, a second in front of the old man, “Here you go Arthur,” and a third next to Joel.
“Did you also want some tea, sweetie?” Alma asked you as she placed the steaming teapot on the table.
“Yes, please, but I can grab a cup myself– sit down,” you smiled and padded the old woman’s shoulder, then you grabbed the bucket of apples and disappeared into the kitchen.
Alma started pouring the tea as a silence fell over the room. A small, “Thank you, ma’am,” left Joel’s lips as she moved on to pouring tea for her husband.
“So,” the man started before taking a sip of his tea, “what do you say Mr. Miller? You staying for the night?”
That night as he laid in a real bed for the first time in months, Joel had trouble falling asleep. He wasn’t used to this. Hadn’t been used to it for a while. His belly full, soft fabric against his skin, feeling warm, and clean. The old couple had offered him one of the two bedrooms on the first floor, the two mystery doors in the living room now revealed. Laying in his new bed he tried not to think about who he was sharing a wall with.
You.
You were something else, helpful and kind. Everything Joel hadn’t seen since the outbreak. At the dinner table you’d asked him questions and listened intently – even when his answers were short and brisk. There was a glimmer in your eye, and it touched something inside him he hadn’t felt in a long time. But you were young, mid to late twenties he reckoned, maybe a little older– anyways, he shouldn’t be harboring anything for you, it wouldn’t be right. Especially now, now that he’d agreed to stay.
After the dinner plates had been cleared, Arthur had folded a big map out on the table. “Here are we now,” he’d pointed a finger at the map. Montana. Southern Montana to be precise. “I’ll give it to you Mr. Miller, if you’ve made it this far on your own you probably won’t have any trouble making your way down south to Wyoming.”
“But?” Joel watched the grimace pulling at the old man’s face.
“But,” Arthur had said, “Winter is just around the corner and… well, going back out there in the wilderness alone during our winters is a dead trap, I’ll tell you that much.”
Joel had let the man go on about the far below freezing temperatures, the heavy snow, and the tough wind, but Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew the winters up here were harsh. It wasn’t even winter yet, but every day he’d felt the temperature drop lower and lower, and the last few of nights he’d even had to get a fire going, against his better judgement.
So– the deal was: Joel would stay over the winter. Just for the winter, he’d been adamant on not staying longer. He’d get a place to stay, a warm bed to sleep in, and food in his belly on one condition – he’d help out on the farm.
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The fire crackled loudly, red tongues licking up the chimney as Joel fed it another log. He watched as the fire caught in the new log, devouring it quickly and with no mercy. It was really starting to heat up now. A small flicker of pride sparked in Joel chest. He’d always been good at building a fire. It was one of those things, Joel had come to learn, where you needed to pay attention, to have patience.
When he was younger, he’d take Tommy out camping sometimes, just the two of them. Mostly they’d go during the summer; Tommy wasn’t a fan of sleeping outside in the cold, though cold had meant something different back then in Texas. But Joel remembered one time he’d managed to convince him to go with him. It was right after he’d gotten his driver’s license, and his parents had given him a beat-up truck for his birthday – for sharing – they’d told him, “You need to give your little brother a ride when he needs it!” Joel wasn’t exactly thrilled about his future as Tommy’s private driver, but it didn’t mean he didn’t love his brother.
A few weeks into October he’d managed to convince Tommy to go camping. They’d packed the truck with their tents, sleeping bags, and fishing equipment, before they’d gotten on the road, driving to a lake where they knew there were fish to catch. Finding a place to camp was always difficult with Tommy. They’d parked Joel’s truck at the edge of the forest before they’d followed a hiking trail. Joel was convinced they’d walked at least three quarters of the way around the lake before they found a spot good enough for Tommy.
It had to be flat, but also shielded. There couldn’t be too many rocks, but there also had to be enough rocks to build a hearth. Tommy wanted it to be private, but he also wanted it to be open enough that he could see if someone would stumble upon their camp. Joel knew not to argue with him when he got like that, opting instead for a defeated, “Whatever.”
Setting up camp went relatively easy. They’d worked together building the tents, collecting rocks for their fireplace, and even managed to find a fallen tree to use as a bench. When the night slowly started to cover them in darkness, Tommy decided to get the fire going. Joel watched him work the logs into a pile as he started on filleting the fish they’d just caught.
“You’re doin’ it wrong,” he’d told his brother, “You’re suffocatin’ it.” He’d washed his hands in the lake, ridding himself of the slimy smell of fish, before crouching down next to Tommy.
The fire was one big bowl of smoke, and Joel caught himself wondering what messages Tommy must’ve been sending to the heavens. He removed some of the heavier logs, and the fire could breathe.
“See?” he’d looked at Tommy, “It just needed air.” Joel had shifted the smaller pieces of wood around and not long after the fire was alive.
That Joel, that green boy who liked to take his little brother camping, that Joel didn’t know how much those skills would come in handy in a few years when the world would get turned upside down.
“Do you have any mittens, Joel?”
Your question pulled Joel from his memories. He turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze from where you were huddled up in the corner of the couch. You looked cozy, but he knew you weren’t. The house was cold this morning, outside a thin layer of frost had stuck to the grass during the night. It was early too, the sun not having climbed high enough yet to peek over the mountains. You looked tired where you sat, clad in a wool sweater with a blanket pulled over your knees. Under the blanket Joel remembered you were still wearing your pajama pants, and in your hand you held a steaming cup of tea, peppermint, Joel knew, his own cup abandoned on the coffee table.
“What?” Joel answered, eyebrows furrowed.
“Do you have any mittens, Joel?” you repeated softly, like the way people tended to speak in the mornings, like they were afraid they’d wake up the world.
His calves were starting to burn from the strain of being crouched in front of the fireplace for a moment too long, and he tried his best to hide his groan, biting his teeth together as he stood to his feet, knees cracking loudly.
“Um, no,” he said, confused about your question.
“I’ll knit you a pair then,” you smiled before putting your cup down next to his.
“That’s… that ain’t necessary,” Joel hurried, but you waved him off.
“Sure it is,” you smiled again, much to Joel’s annoyance. He didn’t deserve your kindness, but you gave it away like it cost nothing. “If you’re gonna be helping Arthur out in the woods this winter, you need some mittens.”
Joel watched as you got up from your home on the couch and vanished into your bedroom. A moment later you appeared in the doorway with a basket under your arm.
“Also…” you gave him another smile as you sat back down again, placing the basket in your lap. It was close to overflowing with yarn, balls of black and white in varying sizes peeking over the top, the homespun ends fraying against the rough edges of the basket. “I’ll have something to do during the evenings,” you winked before you rummaged through the basket and fished out a measuring tape.
Joel shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he watched you. Mittens? Joel can’t remember if he’s ever owned a pair of mittens. Gloves, sure, but mittens?
You patted the cushion next to you, urging him to sit down, kind smile hanging off your lips like always. Sitting down, he folded his hands in his lap, suddenly very aware of how close you were sitting. It wasn’t like he hadn’t sat next to you before; he’d been here a few weeks now, and he was starting to know you, but for some reason, this felt different. Maybe it was the early morning, the quiet house, or the fact that Alma and Arthur were still sleeping upstairs, but it felt like it was just the two of you, alone, and Joel didn’t know how to feel about it.
You shifted towards him, the blanket slipping slightly off the couch with your movement, in your hands you held the measuring tape while you looked at him expectantly.
When Joel didn’t move, a smile quirked at the corner of your mouth before you grabbed one of his hands resting in his lap. You uncurled his fingers slowly, one by one, making Joel hold his breath.
“I need to see how big I need to make them,” you whispered, holding his hand very gently.
Joel’s heart hammered in his chest. Your hand was warm and soft, like the last time he’d touched you as you’d introduced yourself to him. Joel didn’t dare look at your face, or he’d say something stupid, so he didn’t. He looked at your joined hands, his brain trying to remember the last time someone had held his hand as gently as you did, your thumb running over the back of it soothingly.
He can’t remember. His hands are always empty.
With your other hand, a finger curled around the measuring tape, you slipped it around his wrist before leaning closer to look at the numbers.
“Is this too tight you think, or do you want them to be looser?” You asked through your lashes, eyes sparkling in the low morning light.
Joel cleared his throat, “No, that’s fine.”
“Okay,” you nodded, slipping the measuring tape from his wrist to write down the measurement. He hadn’t noticed your notebook until now. It was a little rough around the edges from use, the spined cracked and the paper a little yellow. Placing the pen in the seam, you grabbed the measuring tape again.
Loosening your grip on his hand you placed it over the thick of your thigh. Joel drew a quick breath, his heartbeat hammering in his ears, under his hand he could feel the warmth of you through the soft flannel.
You continued taking your measurements. You didn’t say anything, so neither did Joel, but you looked up at him through your lashes sometimes, and Joel thought that maybe the most useful thing one can do with empty hands, is hold on.
The creak of the stair made Joel jump, and like he’d been burned his hand retracted on reflex, as Arthur’s heavy steps got closer.
“Morning,” Arthur greeted as he ducked his head through the door to the living room.
“Mornin’,” Joel mumbled, head lowered as he gathered his hands in his lap.
“Good morning!” you smiled, always with that kind smile, “Did you sleep well, Arthur?” you got up from your seat before grabbing your teacup to follow Arthur into the kitchen, leaving the yarn and Joel.
Taking a deep breath, Joel pinched the top of his nose. He needed to get it together. You were just being your regular kind self; your soft touch was nothing more than that. Standing to his feet, Joel grabbed his own cup, trudging into the kitchen.
In the kitchen Arthur sat in his usual spot at the dining table, the chair closest to the window. “I need to get on with this barn soon,” Joel heard him say as he sat down opposite him. “It’s gonna fall apart come spring if we get as much snow as we did last year.”
Joel tried his best not to look at you as he heard you hum. You were stood at the kitchen counter slicing the bread Alma had baked yesterday, readying breakfast. Instead, Joel opted to gaze down into his teacup, where the peppermint leaves had all gathered at the bottom.
“Um,” Joel cleared his throat, “what needs fixin’?”
“What doesn’t need fixing in that barn?” Arthur sighed, peeling his eyes from out the window to Joel.
“I can uh,” Joel eyes shifted quickly to you before he cleared his throat again, “I can take a look at it, if ya want?”
Arthur’s eyebrows met in a furrow as he looked at Joel.
“I used to be a contractor,” Joel explained with a shrug, before taking a last cold sip of his tea.
“So, you know a thing or two about buildings I reckon?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah, well I used to,” Joel leaned back in his chair.
“Well, that would be very helpful Joel– I’d appreciated it!” Arthur smiled before leaning back in his chair making room for you as you started setting the table. Joel gave him a short nod in return, trying to fight the urge to look at you as you placed the food on the table.
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Arthur had downplayed the state of the barn – it was a mess – it was dangerous, and had Joel told him as much. But it was nothing Joel couldn’t fix, as long as he had the right supplies, fortunately for him the forest would provide them with what they needed.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
The axe dug a deep wound into the bark with every swing. Joel’s breath was heavy, and his arms ached, but it was a welcomed form of tiredness. A month into it, he was starting to get used to the work. There was something so satisfying about manual labor, of using his hands, of making something – he’d almost forgotten.
The routine of the work felt good. Waking up at dawn, then breakfast, he could use his body for something useful for the first time in twenty years and end the day with a warm meal for supper. This new temporary life was simple, but it was strangely normal.
Originally, Joel was only helping Arthur out in the woods for firewood through the winter– but now with the barn, they’d changed course. The last few days they’d started to become more selective with the trees; looking for the tallest and straightest ones that would fall safely.
A frozen sky hovered over the men as they worked. This morning when Joel had woken up, the thinnest layer of snow had fallen like powdered sugar during the night, turning the world bright with winter. Earlier in the week the frost had perched on the farm, and Joel had known winter was closing in. He’d lost count of the days and months passing while on his own, but Arthur had told him it was late October.
“It will start snowing properly soon,” Arthur said, breaking the silence between them.
Joel hummed before taking a bite of his packed lunch. They’d worked all morning – Joel felling the trees and Arthur cleaning them up and removing the branches. Now they were sat on a fresh tree stump each, their first break of the day.
“I have an old logging sled in the barn– used to be my father’s,” Arthur explained, “I think we should leave the trees here until the snow gets deep enough for the sled and have the horses pull them back to the farm.”
“Fine by me,” Joel took another bite of his lunch.
“The logs will have to dry out over the winter,” Arthur mused, “Then come spring we can start the repairs on the barn.”
Spring. If everything goes according to plan, Joel won’t be here come spring. He needed to find Tommy– he couldn’t, and he wasn’t gonna stay on the farm for any longer than necessary. He’d already decided– when the snow finally started to melt, Joel was gone.
Joel hummed, a non-committed answer. It was easier that way, to not get Arthur’s hopes up. He liked Arthur, he was a good man, a hard worker even in his old age, and silent when Joel wanted him to be. Joel liked Alma too, but her age shined through more easily than Arthur’s. Joel couldn’t help but notice her repeating herself more often and forgetting where she put things. It made life harder for you, Joel could see it. Your responsibilities were already a lot to handle as you took care of the animals mostly by yourself, but as Joel had discovered Alma starting to struggle with the housework, he’d noticed you starting to help her more often. In Joel’s mind it was unfair to you, but it wasn’t like he could blame Alma for growing older, in this world it was a feat.
Still, he’d try his best to help you when he could, like doing the dishes after dinner as you dried them off and put them away. The first few times you were both quiet, it was strangely intimate, only the sound of splashing water filling the space between you. One night he'd gotten brave, breaking the comfortable silence and asked you ‘What you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?’ You’d looked at him with big eyes, searching his own for something, but before he could figure out what it was, you’d answered him with a shrug. It was unlike you, unlike you to be this silent, but Joel didn’t push. The next night the silence persisted, and he’d thought adding ‘Sweetheart’ had been too much, but then the next night you’d sighed quietly and whispered, “I’m worried about Alma.”
Looking down at the mittens in his lap, the guilt gnawed at him. The look of worry in your eyes, Arthur’s hopeful wishes, and Alma’s aging. Joel couldn’t have anything tying him to this place. He was supposed to find his brother.
Suddenly, a black and orange butterfly landed on Joel’s knee. Joel stopped breathing, body going rigid as he tried not to move. How the hell was this butterfly still alive? It sat quiet on his knee, wings slowly retracting and widening behind it. Memories pushed its way to the forefront of Joel’s mind then.
Sarah. Another year had gone by, and the thought made his chest tighten.
“That’s quite a sight at this time of year,” he heard Arthur say, “Beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Y-yeah,” Joel stammered out an answer, afraid his voice would scare it away.
The longer Joel watched the butterfly he found his guilt started to slowly melt away. It’s okay, dad. It was like the rustling of the trees carried her voice with them. You’re on the right path.
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“I can do that f’you want, sweetheart.”
Joel’s boots creaked under him as he walked across the barnyard. You looked up at the sound of his voice, smile blossoming across your face as you tightened your grip on the shovel.
“It’s alright,” you said with a grunt as you picked up more snow, adding it to the growing pile, “Good for me to get some physical work in.”
Joel nodded as you straightened up, hand going to your hip while the other leaned on the shovel, your heavy breath curled in small plumes out of your mouth. You took him in for a second, eyes flickering over his form before they fell on the rabbits hanging over Joel’s shoulder.
“Where’d you get those?” you asked, and Joel shrugged.
“Shot ‘em,” he said simply, “they walked right by me as I was choppin’– seemed too good to pass up.”
“Not for the rabbits,” you muttered, and Joel had to fight the urge to smile.
“You a vegetarian or somethin’?” he asked with a single raised eyebrow, and you waved him off.
“No,” you said pointedly, but a teasing lilt lingered, “Just stating a fact... we don’t eat a lot of rabbit around here, is all.”
Joel nodded slightly; it made sense. He knew there was a gun in the house, but it was a revolver– too small to do any real hunting, and Joel didn’t even know if there were bullets for it. So, Joel didn't ask further. Lucky for him, you did.
“So, you just shot those?” you asked, a frown pulling at your eyebrows, “Aren’t they fast?”
Joel made a nonchalant sort of face. “Ain’t that hard when you can aim straight.”
“Well, how do you aim straight?”
“You learn to shoot.”
You let out a small laugh, one that pulled at Joel’s lips. “And how did you go about learning that?”
Joel felt his smile drop, the leather strap of his shotgun weighing heavy on his shoulder, “Practice.”
You didn’t seem to notice the change in his demeanor as you dug the shovel into the snow, so it stood by itself like a watchman. “Can you teach me?” you asked, the snow creaking under your shoes as you took a few steps closer.
His lips pulled at the corner, “No.”
Your eyes widened with disappointment, eyebrows pulling together in a frown as you asked, “Why?”
“Nothin’ good ever comes from it,” Joel shrugged.
“Okay,” you huffed a laugh, “that’s sinister.” Then you narrowed your eyes at him, gearing up for an argument no doubt with the way you rested your hand on your hip. “What if I also wanted to go hunting?” you posed, and Joel shook his head.
“That ain’t happenin’, sweetheart.”
“Okay, but now you’ve brought us rabbits– and what if I end up really liking rabbit?” you bit down on your bottom lip, unconsciously showing off you own rabbit teeth.
Cute.
“Then I’ll shoot as many rabbits as you want,” Joel countered with a teasing smile before tightening his hold on the rope slung over his other shoulder (the one he’d tied the rabbits to), and walked towards the kitchen door at the back of the farmhouse.
He heard you huff in defeat behind him, your creaky steps following him up the stairs and inside. Walking into the kitchen Joel placed the rabbits on the table before he pulled at his mittens, stripped off his jacket, and hung it neatly over the back of one of the dining chairs. Grabbing one of the rabbits he brought it to the kitchen counter to start dressing it, fighting the urge to turn his head as he heard you enter the room.
“Come on, Joel,” you whined, “Why won’t you teach me?”
“Told you already,” Joel replied, “Nothin’ good comes from learnin’ to shoot things.”
Shifting the rabbit around on the counter he reached for the butcher knife in the knife block.
“You know, that’s a really stupid way of saying you don’t want to spend the time,” you told him, your voice closer now as you leaned against the kitchen counter.  
“When exactly did ya hear me sayin’ I don't wanna spend time with you?” Joel asked, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown.
“You won’t teach me to shoot,” you teased, and Joel could hear the smile in your voice.
Joel huffed out a laugh, “Damn right I won’t.”  
He heard you let out a whiney huff, before you turned on your heel, muttering out a curse under your breath when you accidently bumped your hip into the counter and Joel couldn’t help the smile teasing at his lips. You sat down with an overdramatic sigh, and Joel still didn’t look at you – he knew he’d cave eventually if he did, say yes against his better judgement – so he kept his eyes on the knife in his hand.
“How’s Arthur?” Joel asked as he worked.
“I don’t know,” you sighed, “The same I think– Alma was up there looking after him last time I checked.”
This time Joel allowed himself to look at you. You sat sideways on the wooden chair, legs crossed and tucked under your chair with your head hanging, eyes glued to your lap. Gone were the teasing, and gone were the smiles.
“He’ll be fine,” Joel said, his eyes back on the rabbit, “it’s just a cold.”
“Yeah… but he’s been getting sick a lot more often,” your voice was low, like you didn’t want them to hear you upstairs, “you can’t help but think the worst you know?”
Joel put the knife down and moved over to the sink. He quickly washed his hands before grabbing a towel to dry off, twisting it in his hands as he approached you. Placing the towel on the counter, he hesitated for a moment as he watched you, watched the way you twisted your hands in your lap with no sense of purpose or intent. It was like the worry dripped down your body. Pushing off the counter Joel knelt in front of you, a grunt escaped him as his knees clicked loudly, his balance slightly off on his haunches.
“Shit,” Joel huffed out a laugh, and you followed. Your palms landed on his knees to keep him steady, warmth spreading like jolting electricity.
“Sweetheart, I’ll tell you what–” he stopped himself when you looked at him through your lashes, trying to ignore the way your eyes focused on his mouth as he spoke. “’s just a cold, he’ll be up ‘n walkin’ tomorrow– man’s got gumption.”
“Yeah?” your eyes flickered upwards, meeting his.
Suddenly, under your gaze Joel felt brave. His hand moved on its own accord, cupping your cheek in his hand. He let his thumb ghost over your skin, still cold under his fingertips from being outside, but warming under his touch.
“Yeah, sweetheart.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment, you only watched him with glimmering eyes, like you were under a spell. Maybe he was too.
“Still,” you sighed, “Would be better if I could pick up more of the slack around here... Arthur does a lot, and I wish I could do more to support them.”
“Like what? You take care of the animals all by yourself– that’s more than enough.”
“Well, I could learn to shoot rabbits,” you told him, before the corners of your mouth pulled into a pleased smirk as he rolled his eyes at you.
Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, making a move to stand when you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
“I’m kidding, Joel,” you smiled, before a more serious look washed over your features. “I mean it’s… It’s gonna be empty here without you,” you said, “I’m starting to really like having you here, Joel.”
Joel turned his hand to rest the back of it on your thigh, your hand fitting in his.
“I uh,” his eyes fixated on your joined hands, then he cleared his throat, “I’ll stay as long as you need me to. I’m not leavin’ you alone, sweetheart.”
Your eyes lit up at his words, smile growing large across your face. Joel’s heart drummed in his chest as your eyes flickered down to his mouth again.
“Thank you,” you said in a low voice, and then you did something Joel thought was gonna make his heart stop beating. You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It bloomed against his skin, and made wings flutter against the walls of his stomach.
“You’re a good man, Joel Miller,” you whispered before you pulled away, looking at him with kindness in your eyes.
If only you knew, Joel thought, if only you knew the blood on his hands.
He couldn’t look at you when you looked at him like that. Like you believed your own words. So, he cleared his throat awkwardly and stood to his feet, his knees clicking as your hand slipped from his movement. He walked back to the counter, fingers grabbing the towel with no other purpose than to calm himself down.
After placing the towel back where it usually hung, he grabbed the knife again, turning his attention back to the rabbit, allowing himself to steal a few glances at you where you sat looking out the kitchen window.
“Hey, uh,” Joel broke the growing silence after a few minutes, “how ‘bout rabbit stew for lunch?”
Your head snapped to look at him as he spoke, a smile ghosting over your lips as you said, “I’ll go get some vegetables from the cellar.”
Joel wouldn’t necessarily call himself a good cook – he wouldn’t even call himself a cook in the first place. Back before the outbreak he’d been forced to learn the basics as a fresh single dad, but he’d never been able to provide Sarah with gourmet meals very often, and when Sarah had gotten older, he’d been embarrassed to say that her food was always better than his – eggshells and all. One summer he’d bought himself a nice grill– one of those way too expensive gas grills with too many fancy accessories for Joel to regularly use. He’d had a job that ended up paying well, some rich guy’s mansion that needed renovating, and decided to treat himself for once. That summer all their meals had come from that grill, well mostly, and afterwards Joel looked at himself as a pretty good griller, if nothing else.
You on the other hand, you knew what you were doing, it was clear in the effortlessly way you moved beside him as you got the vegetables ready for the stew. Joel seared the meat to the best of his abilities, making sure it was properly browned on both sides before setting it aside. After that, it was clear that you were in charge, and Joel let you boss him around and tell him what to do. It made his heart warm around the edges, watching how you put so much love and care into everything you did.
An hour later you finally sat down to eat; two hearty bowls of stew each as light snowflakes covered the world outside. You’d let the pot simmer on low over the heat as you’d wanted to bring up a bowl for Arthur and Alma later.
“So…” you started, watching as Joel dug into his bowl, “How’s the stew?”
“’s good!” Joel nodded through a mouthful, and he wasn’t lying. It was good, really good in fact.
“Yeah?” you bubbled through a smile, before you dug into your own bowl to see if he’d spoken the truth. He watched as you face brightened as you chewed, nodding your head to confirm his verdict.
“I think I really like rabbit, Joel,” you said through a teasing smile, and Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle from spilling.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, teasing smile not going anywhere, “So… when are you teaching me to shoot?”
“Shut up.”
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The living room was quiet, safe for the cracking of the fire. It had almost died out when Joel had stepped out of his room. He’d been twisting and turning again, counting sheep, but nothing had been able to pull him under the blanket of sleep. He was plumb tired too, that was the worst part. The embers hummed with a low light, and with a small stick Joel had spread them out before placing a small piece of wood on top. No less than a minute later the fire fed on the log.
Taking a seat and leaning back in the lounge chair, Joel looked out the window with tired eyes. The moon looked down on him, big and bright, it shone its white light over the barnyard like a spotlight. His thoughts were clouded over as he gazed up. A billion little lights turning into bright spheres in the sky.
On nights like this, Joel felt like he was barely breathing at all.
His thoughts didn’t stray for long before they found you again. Lately, you were always on his mind. He thought about how you’d looked mere hours ago, when he’d sat in this same exact chair, only this time it was facing towards the sofa and not the window.
You’d been sat curled up in the corner, blanket thrown over your lap with a book in hand. You’d told him you’d read all the books in the house already, but it didn’t stop you from coming back to your favorites. Joel had been reading his own book, an old western he’d found in the bookshelf in the upstairs hallway a few days ago. It was entertaining, but not enough to hold his attention. He found his eyes had a mind of their own, slipping over the top to steal a peek at you as you read, feeling a smile tug at his lips at the barely there furrow of concentration between your eyebrows.
“Joel.”
Joel perked up at the whisper of his name, the memories fading like ripples in still water. He looked around the room –nothing. He sat quietly in his chair for a moment, listening, as his heartbeat quickened in his chest. It had been your voice, hadn’t it? Or was he starting to lose it? His eyes fell to the door of your bedroom. He hadn’t noticed it until now, but he could see it was slightly ajar.
“Joel.”
The voice was louder this time, almost strained, but it was yours. A thousand scenarios flashed before his eyes then at your tone. Was there someone in your room? Were you in danger? Seconds later Joel crossed the room, a mix of fear and protectiveness overcoming him.
Leaning up against your door he listened for the intruder as he readied himself. The soft crinkling of your sheets combined with your strained whimpers was all it took for him to push the door open, fearing the worst.
And…
It was empty, your room, you were alone. Joel immediately felt stupid– the only intruder here was him.
He was about to step out, embarrassed at his actions, when he heard it again, his name falling from your lips. It was all Joel needed to finally take in your body, squirming under your sheets, still asleep. The realization of what he’d just walked in on made Joel’s eyes widen.
Laying on your back, the duvet had slipped down your torso from your movements to reveal the thin t-shirt you wore to bed. Like this he could see your perked nipples through the fabric, as your chest quickly rose and fell, making Joel’s imagination start to run wild.
“Joel.”
In his pajama pants, Joel could feel his cock come alive from the soft whimper that left your lips along with his name. He couldn’t move, like some farm elf had glued his feet to the floor while he wasn’t looking. He watched as you scrunched your face together in pleasure, another whimper falling from your lips, and all the blood in Joel’s body rushed down south.
As if the soundwaves from your voice had broken against him, he took a step backwards, and then another, and another until he crossed the threshold of your door. He tried his best to be quiet, to not wake you and have you catch him in your room in the middle of the night.
The image of you squirming under your sheets, dreaming of him, didn’t leave him as he closed the door to his own room. With a sigh his head fell against the door, a strong hand gliding down his front to hover over his aching cock.
Joel Miller was no saint, but what he was doing– what he was about to do, was bad.
“Shit,” he quietly hissed, running his hand up his clothed cock. He hadn’t touched himself properly in a long time, not since he left Boston.
His cock reacted to his touch, growing harder and harder until he couldn’t take it anymore. He hooked his finger around the hem of his pajama pants, pulling them down to the thick of his thigh, freeing himself. He hissed at the cold air hitting his length, as it bopped with the movement of being freed. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Joel spat, before he wrapped his spit-soaked hand around himself.
His mind found you again as he started stroking himself, slowly at first, pumping himself with a practiced hand, squeezing himself at the base before bringing his hand up to thumb at the tip. Joel couldn’t get the way you sounded out of his mind. Couldn’t forget how you were squirming in your bed, dreaming of him. Couldn’t shake the thought of pulling those moans and whimpers from you with his hands, and his mouth, and with his cock.
“Fuck.”
Joel tried to be quiet, but he couldn’t fight the moan from slipping from his lips. Fuck, he wanted you. He wanted his hands all over you. Closing his eyes his mouth dropped open as he imagined what he was dying to do to you.
How much he’d wanted to help you out of your t-shirt, run his hands over your breasts and tease your nipples. Take his time to pull those moans and whimpers from your soft lips as he teased you with kisses down your body, down the valley of your breasts, your tummy, down to you to your–
Another low moan fell from Joel’s lips. He squeezed himself tighter as he jerked himself off, precum pearling at the tip, and slipping down his length, mixing with his spit.
The sound of the slick rhythm of his hand filled his bedroom as he increased the pace of his strokes. He had to bite down on his lip to strangle a groan when thoughts of getting between your legs, spreading them open and getting his mouth on you filled his head. He fantasized about how you’d taste falling apart on his tongue–Fuck, how you’d sound falling apart around his cock.
His eyes fell shut as he fisted himself faster. Joel could feel his orgasm quickly building, coiling tight in his tummy. With his free hand he cupped his balls, and then he couldn’t help but imagine it was you, a picture of you on your knees before him flashed behind his eyelids, your tongue lapping at his balls while your hand pumped his cock.
“Shit.”
With a strained groan, thick ropes of cum spilled over his knuckles and down his length, coating him in his release. His breath came out ragged, as he continued his strokes, milking himself of the rest of his release.
Fuck.
His cock softened in his hand as he calmed down from his high. With a quiet groan he pushed himself off the door, looking around his room for something to clean himself up with.
The guilt of what he’d done washed over him quickly, settling in his chest like a heavy weight. You were so young, and beautiful, and Joel just an old man. He shouldn’t want you like this, shouldn’t want you this much.
Climbing under the covers, Joel couldn’t shake his thoughts of you, of you dreaming about him in your bed, about your smiles, and your touch. A supercut of you rolling like a tape in his minds eye. A supercut of you bundled up under a blanket on the sofa, knitting him his mittens. Of you, your own knitted hat pulled tightly down over your ears as you stepped out into the snow to check on the animals. Of the way you’d looked at him for the first time, with the bucket of apples under your arm, and the sweet taste of them as you’d offered him one later, after dinner.
Finally, Joel could breathe.
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next part -> here! i hope someone liked this? if you did a comment, reply or an ask is always welcome and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!
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© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!
845 notes · View notes
roachliquid · 5 months
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Man. It really bites seeing Maximus (from the Fallout series) be so heavily overlooked by the fandom, when he is such a well-written character. Bar none, he's one of the best fictional examples I have ever seen of someone raised in a high-control group.
The Brotherhood of Steel, in their entirety, are given all the classic traits of a cult or HCG. They boast about having these grandiose ideals, all of which revolve around controlling other people's behavior. They use those same ideals to justify abusing lower-ranking members, implying all the while that it serves some greater good. And despite their supposedly rigorous beliefs, they're happy to turn a blind eye to unsanctioned abuse - because it serves the same purpose of keeping people "in their place".
Then we're introduced to Maximus - a young man who has made the mistake of taking those ideals seriously, but due to the environment he's been trapped in, was never taught how to act on them in a real and meaningful way. And in the process of figuring that out, he fucks up. (He fucks up a lot, because the Brotherhood wouldn't dare teach him anything that might help him function without their support.) But he genuinely wants to do the right thing, and we see that come through time and again as he slowly learns how to be his own person.
And yet, even with all that growth under his belt, getting away from the group isn't that simple. Because, like any high control group worth its salt, the Brotherhood doesn't want you to leave. Sure, they'll threaten to kick you out (or in this case, kill you) - because it keeps you in line. But they'd much rather have you under their thumb, so he still has to deal with the threat of getting sucked back in.
As a cult survivor, I rarely see people like me depicted accurately in the media. We're almost always either scheming sadists or helpless barefoot victims - you rarely see a nuanced depiction of how a regular person, with both good intentions and the skills needed to get away, can still end up trapped in that kind of group. Maximus is an incredible example of how that can play out, and I hope more people come to appreciate both him as a character and how well that dynamic was handled.
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notsunnyowo · 5 months
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Iᖴ YOᑌ ᑕᗩᑎ'T ᗷEᗩT TᕼEᗰ - ᒍOIᑎ 'Eᗰ
Part 2
Summary: Gojo Satoru is known for being a flirt, but what happens when he gets a taste of his own medicine?
Content: Fluff, Flirt! Gojo, Female! Reader (AFAB), Gojo getting flustered, Teen! Gojo x Teen! Reader (Reader is the same age as Gojo)
Word Count: 778
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It was well known that the infamous head of the Gojo-clan was a huge flirt. And understandably so. He was a striking young man with good looks that could rival the ones of even the Greek gods. Not to mention the personality to match.
He was a cocky little bastard. Always using his good-looks to his advantage. Didn't feel like paying the regular price for a double scooping of ice cream? - He'd just charm the vendor into giving him a "customer discount". Wanted to get into the VIP lounge of some club? - No problem. One wink, paired with a flirty comment towards the security was all it took for him to waltz right in like he owned the place.
Everyone knew he liked having things his way. After all, no one had ever opposed the strongest. And gotten away with it at least-
You supposed that's what ultimately resulted in his unique personality. . .
His boyish charm worked on almost anyone.
Except you.
There were only a handful of people that could resist Satoru's charming attitude and you were one of them. And for some reason it only made you a target more than everyone else.
But could you really blame Satoru for wanting to make the cute new girl wrapped around his fingers?
He just found you so interesting (not to mention adorable) whenever you rolled your eyes at his flirty pick-up line, brushing him off as if he wasn't the Satoru Gojo.
You were absolutely perfect.
One could only imagine the look on his face when you actually responded to his flirty comments.
"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" Satoru spoke in his usual charming tone as he leaned over your desk. "Don't you have someone else to bother Gojo?" Raising your head from the book you were reading, Satoru was met with your unamused expression. Letting out a dramatic sigh, Satoru answered. "No. Suguru's out on a mission and Yaga-sensei called Shoko to his office not too long ago. Said something about practicing for a medical exam, whatever that means." "Which means that you, sweet girl, get to spend the evening with yours truly." He added, flashing you his signature boyish grin. Rolling your eyes at his comment, you said sarcastically. "Gee. How lucky am I?" Grinning like the dork he was, Satoru completely dismissed your unenthusiastic tone and simply carried on with his 'speech'. "Don't get too excited now. I wouldn't want Suguru getting jealous." "But then again- Who wouldn't get jealous over the lovely little lady that gets to spend the evening with me?" He continued on with his 'speech'. Letting out a defeated sigh, you looked up at the white haired sorcerer. What was that old saying again? If you can't beat them - join 'em. "Y'know what.." You spoke up, capturing Satoru's attention. "You're absolutely right." "Oh?" The boy hummed, raising a brow at your response. Had he finally gotten to you? "Definitely." You chirped, shifting in your seat. "Heh, I knew you'd see it eventually." Gojo commented, his cocky grin resurfacing once more. "After all, it was only a matter of time till you fell for m-" His words were suddenly cut off by your hand tugging his shirt and getting him down to your level. Cerulean eyes meeting yours, Satoru could feel his heart picking up its pace at your close proximity. His breath hitched as he saw you lean in, till your noses were almost touching. "What's wrong, pretty boy?" You cooed, your grin matching the one on his face just a few moments ago. "Cat got your tongue?" There were no words to describe how fast Satoru's heart was beating in that very moment. Nor how lightheaded your words, and actions, made him feel. If his blood pressure didn't kill him you would. For once in his entire life. Satoru was left speechless. Chuckling at the flustered state you'd left him, you gently patted his rosy cheek with one hand, before pulling away. "Y'know Gojo.. You're not as bad when you shut up." You said, offering him a cheeky smile. "You should consider letting your face do all the talking next time." "Chao~" Once you were out of the room and Satoru couldn't sense your cursed energy any more, he let out an embarrassed groan as he raised a hand to cover his flushed features. He glanced back at the door you'd walked through a minute earlier as he muttered to himself, hand covering his mouth. "What a woman.~"
After that little fiasco, Satoru was never the same.
He had a new goal in his mind. Get the new girl to do that to him again.
Author Note:
OMG I did not expect my previous post to blow up this much-
THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT!!! <3
Also, I hope you enjoyed reading this lil' fanfic!
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The last few people had logged off the server, leaving it in its burnt, damaged state.
She knew where Gem would be.
Cleo scaled up the ladder and clambered up to the rickety roof of Joel’s tower — where you could look out on the entire server.
Sure enough, Gem was perched on the railing, sitting on the edge with nothing to support her but the wind, staring in the direction of the Secret Keeper.
Cleo looked around at the short cobble walls. Grian had told her that he’d hid away here. Not a bad strategy, overall. You could shut yourself here and forget everywhere else existed.
“Hey, Cleo.”
“Am I that loud?” Cleo joked weakly.
“Who else?”
Cleo watched as the last remains of the green flesh flaked off Gem’s skin, leaving her regular human tones. “No more zombies now, then? Good job, anyway. Killing people left and right.”
“Not you, though.”
“Not me. Only way I’m going out is my way. I’d rather die on my own stupidity than someone else’s callousness.” Cleo allowed a hint of pride to enter her voice. “You were great zombies, though.”
“We weren’t zombies.” Gem turned and hopped down from the railing.
Cleo noticed that unlike the other zombies, or even Scott or Grian, Gem didn’t have a single scratch or injury, save one neat bandage that no doubt was due to Scar’s reckless arrows.
Which meant the blood splattering her face wasn’t her own. “What do you mean?”
“That’s not how zombies work. No offence, Cleo, but most zombies aren’t sentient.”
Cleo blinked. “No worries, I know they aren’t. I kill plenty of them at night.”
“So you should know how they work. They’re mindless. They lurch along, they kill without thinking, they probably bump into trees.”
Gem tilted her head. “They don’t set TNT traps, or betray their teammates, or ask for permission to kill their wife’s perceived murderer.”
Cleo’s mouth was dry. “So you’re saying…”
“I’m saying the apocalypse wasn’t zombies, Cleo. It was human.”
Horribly, incredibly human.
Cleo remembered when they were up on the tower, staring at the others down below, condemning them as monsters.
Somehow, it was better to think of them as a mindless horde and not people she’d been laughing and arguing with a session ago.
Gem was watching her. “You know I’m right. Look at Pearl. Was running from us, convinced we were infected or something but once she realised she had permission to kill, she went in. Even unleashed a warden, or two. That’s how quickly we switch.”
Ironically, Cleo realised, the roles had been swapped this session. The humans were chasing the zombie, but it hadn’t been any different.
“That’s not true,” Cleo said, “It’s not all bad. Did you know, Grian snuck down from this tower to check on his magma pet, and I was there too. And so was Etho. He didn’t kill us.”
Irritation flashed across Gem’s face. “He didn’t kill you? If he had, or, like, told us your location or something, we could’ve all just gone after Scott, and, and, the task would’ve succeeded…”
She trailed off, and looked at Cleo. “Is that the point you’re trying to make here?”
Cleo shrugged.
“Alright, I get it,” Gem grumbled, “No need to rub your holier-than-thou alliance and great morals in my face.”
“Well, no one asked you to put your task over your bandmates.”
Gem didn’t say anything to that.
“It’s not as if I’m exactly a paragon of morality either.” Cleo continued.
“I guess not.” Gem gave a short laugh. “Neither am I. You know, all the murder and stuff? I don’t feel bad! In fact, I feel great. I feel proud of myself for it.”
“…I feel you should be a little less bloodthirsty.”
Gem smiled at Cleo, an innocent, cheerful smile that would have been such if not for the circumstances. “Oh, no.”
Cleo was suddenly feeling very unsafe on the highest platform on the server. She wished Etho was here, or even Grian.
She knew Gem couldn’t take any lives, not now, not when the session was already over. But still…
Cleo raised her sword to stop the axe swing that came, but it was a feint, and her sword hit nothing.
Gem dramatically swung her axe back into her inventory.
“You really thought I would attack you?” Gem said.
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” Cleo retorted curtly.
“That’s true,” Gem conceded. “But the curse is just so- it’s so freeing, Cleo? Can’t you see? You could do anything.”
“Uh- no thanks. Session’s over, anyway,” Cleo pointed out.
“That’s true. But I’m still kinda cursed, you know.”
In response, Cleo warily raised her sword. But all that Gem did was deliver a mock salute before logging off with a chirpy “See you next week!”
Cleo stood silently. There had been one zombie on the platform just now. Her.
And thinking about it, she wasn’t sure if there hadn’t been two.
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bogleech · 5 months
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Guess I have to make a main thread about this. Someone decided to fight with me in the notes on this post just yesterday about Gaza and made select responses of mine into a callout thread here, where they say my anger towards the IDF is all a cover for antisemitism. This didn't make any sense, because they said they were also against the IDF killing civilians, and I repeatedly said that Jewish people aren't to blame for the IDF or represented by the IDF in any way, putting us supposedly both on the exact same page. What gerry leaves out of their own screenshots, and I'd actually forgotten, is that at first they came at me from an angle that I was disrespecting the victims in Gaza.
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So this implies they feel gaza is being subjected to a genocide, and a pretty big one, since they're upset my language made it sound "smaller and tamer." When it becomes obvious that I do in fact consider it a serious genocide, that's when they switch over to saying that my criticism of Netanyahu or the IDF is inherently an attack on Jewish people.
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Notice I never actually said "zionists" in this screenshot, even, but that I defined "regular humans" as humans who don't want to kill innocent families. That would automatically include Jewish people since they overall do not wish to kill anyone, but have in fact spent quite a lot more time trying not to get killed. I believe there may be entire books about this fact! I think there's even whole museums about it, if I'm not mistaken?!
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So then they pivot to saying I'm an antisemite because I said the IDF and its supporters can "burn in hell," and they say "invoking hell" is an antisemitic dogwhistle, which is definitely news to me?!
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So I tried to clarify, again, that I'm only angry at the people who are themselves killing civilians and the "pro-genocide maniacs" who defend the killing of civilians, which they responded to as if I had "lumped them in" with those. You can just see right there that I didn't make any assumption that they were a part of that at all. Thanks to their earlier comments I still thought I was speaking to someone 100% against the IDF's actions, but every time I said that the killers and their advocates alone are bad, they've framed it in some new way as me just not liking anyone Jewish. So now that you have that context:
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...In a response to an ask, they finally just say they hated me to begin with and set out with the intention to "bait and sealion" me (their own words!!) into saying something they hoped would be antisemitic, which they believe was successful despite me never saying anything about Jews other than "this isn't their fault." They saw what they admittedly wanted to, so strongly, that they show me saying "this isn't the fault of Jews" as evidence that I blame Jews. But speaking of people "going mask off"
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In multiple more recent posts and asks, this person appears to say that they simply do not believe the IDF is really targeting children or ambulances or relief aid, that "none of those are true," and the deliberate targeting of any children is supposedly just a conspiracy theory??? So I guess they did successfully troll me and I feel like a real gullible dumbass, because the only reason I continued responding to this person in the first place was that they said they were in fact against the ongoing massacre. Instead, these comments sound like they think the IDF is being unfairly vilified by dishonest propagandists, and that's why they hated me enough to try and fish for callout fuel. That's the nastiest fucking thing anyone's yet pulled on me about this and it's not one that I'm just going to ignore. I should have smelled a troll early on and just blocked them, but it's SO hard for me to suspect ulterior motives. I always go in thinking people mean well, and that there's just a miscommunication we can work out. I almost feel like this individual noticed that and tried to exploit it?!? Unfortunately I'm sure this kind of thing will happen again simply because I don't intend to obediently shut up about what's being done to Gaza. It's not logistically possible for the death and destruction to all just be accidental collateral damage. Don't let anybody ever fool you into thinking the IDF is the face of the Jewish community or vice-versa, just as you can't let anyone fool you into thinking Hamas represents all Palestinians. Especially don't engage this person, stop doing so if you have been, and block them.
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ryin-silverfish · 6 months
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Heart and Mind: An Analysis of Tripitaka
I've been wanting to write this since…since I came across some good ol' Tripitaka discourse in the LMK fandom ages ago. Couldn't remember the specifics, but as y'all probably know, it falls under the "Is him an abusive master" and people's strongly worded retort to that question.
On one hand, I dislike the "abusive" take because so often, it is an excuse to reduce a character to an 2D caricature for cheap angst purposes, and both JTTW and its historical context deserve more nuances than that.
On the other hand, I don't agree with some of the defenses either——that Tripitaka is Kind and Wise and The Virtuous Monk, Actually, and people who said otherwise just had their views colored by adaptations, or were ignorant westerners misreading the book.
Because trust me, Chinese readers absolutely have gripes with Tripitaka too, and sass him mercilessly.
We may have a better idea of the historical context, namely, the common usage and acceptance of corporal punishments, but quite a few of us don't think he's a good Buddhist either.
Instead, I'd like to focus on his allegorical role, and how it ultimately forms the basis for my interpretation of his character.
It is commonly acknowledged that each pilgrim represent an aspect of the enlightenment seeker: Monkey is the Mind, Dragon Horse the Will, Pigsy the Desire, Sandy the Determination/Ideation.
Tripitaka is either the enlightenment seeker as a human, or the Heart, the Compassion.
But how can someone represent Compassion when his behaviors don't look all that compassionate, when he seems to care more about what a good Buddhist looks like on paper than in spirit?
How can a compassionate man punish his disciple with a migraine spell and disown him twice, be okay with some violence but not others?
Well, to answer that question, I feel like you have to look at Tripitaka in conjunction with SWK, and what the monkey represents. He is literally the Mind Monkey, the boundless potential of human intellect, and that, by itself, is neutral.
In the word of one of the best poems in JTTW:
"He could be good; he could be bad; present good and evil he could do at will. He'd be an immortal, a Buddha, if he's good; wickedness would cloak him with hair and horn."
To put it simply, SWK is one's wits, one's problem-solving skills, the ability to discern good and evil on a cognitive level.
Whenever Tripitaka, the Compassion, is deceived, it falls to the Mind to see the opponents as they are, and take action to protect the human from harm.
But just as blind compassion without judgement can be exploited by evil, the reverse is true for a mind without compassion, driven solely by their own ambition and whims and practical knowledge.
The Mind knows that robbery is a crime, so these robbers deserve death, but has no idea how disturbing it is for a regular guy to witness six people being brutally murdered in front of him.
The Mind knows that abandoning your wife and family to become a bandit is shameful and unfilial, but cannot comprehend why the bandit's father may not want his son killed for these offenses.
The Mind knows right and wrong, but has trouble seeing the human behind those acts, and why one should care in the first place.
And to see what the Mind looks like without any of Compassion's restraint, one needs to look no further than SWK's "Second Mind", the Six-eared Macaque.
Just like how "Heart" sounds like a lame power for a character, Compassion isn't flashy, nor as useful in a strictly ultilitarian sense. In fact, having compassion makes you vulnerable. It hurts. And unscrupulous people will absolutely use it against you.
So why hold onto your weakness and wallow in it? The world doesn't need another sanctimonious wuss, it needs strong, clever people making hard sacrifices, ruthless, logical decisions! Tough up! Stop caring, and you'll never be hurt again!
Much like a certain crowd who think basic human decency is somehow political propaganda, perhaps, when SEM struck Tripitaka, he was trying to do the same thing.
Kill the embodiment of compassion, the sniveling, useless, fragile human that keeps holding SWK back. Replace him as the true Mind, the one strong enough to break all bonds and seize glory with his own two hands.
But without compassion, without humanity, one is no longer a whole person, and cannot reach enlightenment. In fact, just like how Buddha would only give the True Scripture to Tripitaka, if you are not brave enough to make yourself vulnerable, to suffer and feel other's suffering, you will never transcend it.
At best, you can have some pale imitations of the parts you have willingly shut out from yourself.
And that's what SEM does. He thought he could do it on his own, singlehandedly replace SWK and reap the benefits of enlightenment, but he is no Monkey Awakened to Emptiness.
He is just empty; cut off desires because it is base, cut off determined ideation because it is foolish, cut off compassion because it is weak, cut off the altruism and curiosity and creativity from the mind, and you are left with a grand total of NOTHING.
A shadow of a self, desperately clinging onto external validation and stolen stories, reading the pilgrim's travel paperwork out loud as if that would actually make the journey his.
Tripitaka needs to trust SWK and learn from him, because compassion, much like good intention, doesn't solve problems on its own, and mercy is not the same as enabling harm.
SWK needs his master's guidance, because even at his most selfish and impulsive, he cares, and only by extending that care to others and accepting the vulnerability that comes with it can he truly mature and become awakened to the ultimate truth.
Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
One last bit of ramble: I feel like there is something to be said about Tripitaka's tendency to trust Pigsy, and how the pursuit of enlightenment is often derailed by worldly desires.
Unlike the demons they encountered, however, Pigsy is not the personification of mental obstacles that must be destroyed, because you cannot destroy bodily needs, nor the very human tendencies to slack off and avoid trouble.
You should stop listening to its advice, sure. Poke fun at it, absolutely. But what Pigsy represents is part of the human condition, just like every other pilgrim, and also something one must make peace with.
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insanesonofabitch · 11 months
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How am I supposed to function like a normal human being when I’ve been made aware of the existence of destiel? Everytime I get close to being slightly functional, I’m reminded of shit like how someone wrote a script wherein Cas gets his very own personal heaven—a room full of half-naked pictures (some real and some badly edited) of Dean Winchester. Or how later on in the series, in another script draft of another episode, Cas gets shown another “heaven on earth” scenario where he spreads his wings full while, for some reason, specified to be shirtless in front of Dean. Or how Dean was supposed to confess his love to Cas way back in season 8. Or how his relationship with Benny and the then presumed dead Cas is paralleled to Amelia’s relationship with Sam and her then presumed dead husband. “Are we still talking about Sam, or did you break up with someone too?” Or how Dean was supposed to relive the life of Cain in reverse and kill Cas like Cain killed his wife Colette, while Cas and Colette are paralleled to each other, with how they both ask Dean and Cain to stop the killings right as they’re about to die by the hands of the ones they love. Or how they made several people imply and straight up tell Dean and Cas to their faces that they’re in love with each other and not once, not once does any of the both of them ever deny it. And how several times, over and over again, their enemies use this “more profound bond” against them. “You’re hoping Castiel would return to you. I admire your loyalty. I only wish he felt the same way.” “But then, his true weakness is revealed.” “Don’t lose it over one man.” “I’m gonna cure you of your human weakness.” “You blast me away you blast away every angel in the room.” “There comes a point where every relationship has run its course.” “Oh sweet. Cas, he’s dead. All the way dead. Because of you.” “There is nothing for you back there.” Or how Dean subtly references a queer movie while referring to Cas and himself as the queer main characters of the said queer movie…who were, by the way, in a relationship with each other. Or how they made Cas confess but killed him right off, and then soon later killed Dean off and implied he doesn’t pursue romantic relationships ever again, and never have him actually experience the life outside the “hamster wheel” that he fought for because they knew he could NEVER be happy living the unnamed wife one kid “normal” apple-pie life that they originally planned for him.
Or how part of the people behind this show actually fought for their story to be told because you CANNOT make all of this without someone, at the very least one person actively writing, portraying, or depicting them with the intention of telling a queer love story.
And then what? So I’m just supposed to ignore and gloss over and move on from all of this along with so much more like the show already did on the regular?
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jessikahathaway · 1 year
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Tainted Love - JJK (M)
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Hello hello everybody!
Here is Demon!Jk as promised~
Thank you to everyone who expressed excitement from the teaser! And a special thank you to my bb Ella (@oddinary4bts) for betaing this fic for me and listening to me scream about Demon Jk on discord for the past month. Love you babes!
Alright, fasten your seatbelts, I went a lil AWOL with this but I hope you all enjoy regardless! Please let me know what you think~
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X F!Reader
Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)
Genre: Fantasy!AU, Demon!Jk, Witch!Reader, unrequited love, romance, smut, angst, lil fluffy bits in there too.
Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, main character death (not permenant), Demon!Jk can be toxic, reader is in love and knows she shouldn't be, darker themes - Jungkook is an old demon and isn't a very happy one, they use each other a bit but they work that out. SMUT WARNINGS: Multiple smut scenes (you heard me), unprotected sex (don't be silly), oral (f and m receiving), creampies, rough sex, emotional sex, standing/wall fucking, Jungkook is pussy whipped confirmed, dirty talk (jungkook and reader freak nasty), switch!Jk and switch!reader, hair pulling, vaginal sex.
Words: 16.4k
Summary: Jungkook sometimes forgets the time. Except the time he's spent with you, he's certain those times he'll remember until the day he turns to dust. As a demon with a time limit on his life, will he let you in? The witch who has shown him tenderness instead of a blade at his throat. Does he trust you with his life? Or will you be too late?
Jungkook sometimes forgets the time. 
And not in the sense of he can’t remember the time of day, or the day of the week itself. No, it’s gotten much worse over his millenia of life. He legitimately doesn’t remember if it’s the 1700s or 2020s some days. Time is a much more relative construct than most people believe. Life isn’t always linear. Things can happen backwards, things can happen too fast or not at all when someone has believed it to be otherwise. 
Jungkook had forgotten the time again today. The smoke of his cigarette rose up above his head and swirled and flowed along with the fan spinning slowly above his head.
He laid on his bed in this dingy apartment that he pays for with money he conjures. Being a demon has its perks. But, to remain under the guise of a regular human, he works at a local mechanics shop. 
He lives life as a typical low level human being. He has a backstory and everything. His parents passed away when he was little and his great aunt cared for him until he was old enough to move out on his own. While away she passed and he’s been alone ever since. This small village had accepted him, unfortunately for them. 
Now, Jungkook was a demon, but that didn’t mean he was wasteful. Nor was he ruthless and bloodthirsty. No, he was nothing of the sort. He was far too old for childish nonsense like that. His temper had almost fizzled out with the will to change his fate for the better. At this point? He’d rather disappear and be done with it all. Constantly looking for new souls to take, it had been exhausting in the beginning, and now? Now he didn’t care really one way or the other. 
He had one year before it all went away. 
One year before he dies.
The reason? Jungkook had betrayed his brethren. His fellow demons sentenced him to a life on Earth until he could fulfill a quota of ten thousand souls. Specifically, ten thousand souls of those who are the victims of the painful fate of unrequited love. As that was his crime.
He loved a human woman, and so? He was forced to kill the poor saps that had fallen into his own trap. 
A painful irony, but Jungkook had quit feeling pain a long while ago. Five thousand years to complete his task, to take ten thousand souls that were suffering the same pain as himself all those years ago. And finally, after far too many years, his task would be ending. And him along with it all. 
He couldn’t find it in himself to care much about himself. He was far too tired.
There was, however, one Earthly pleasure that he’d found himself enjoying. 
You. 
A witch in your own right, a member of the coven in the area. You’d moved in a few years back and noticed Jungkook immediately. He was handsome, he was dark and mysterious. How were you supposed to resist?
Jungkook initially hadn’t taken that much of a liking to you. But you were persistent and perhaps even a little desperate for a friend that knew at least some of your true identity. Jungkook had finally relented on his reluctance and had let you in. Not much, there were things you were certain he would never tell you. Perhaps some things you wouldn’t want to know in the first place. But, it didn’t take long for you two to start fucking after that. 
He was weak for very few things. However, cheap spicy ramen from the convenience store down the street, cigarettes and sex had proven to be nicely distracting.
You were pretty and nice enough, although Jungkook didn’t particularly care for you at first, once you two fucked a few times he could see himself forgiving your little nuisances. They didn’t really matter on the large scale anyways. 
Nothing did, actually.
A knock at the door brought him from his stupor. He didn’t have to work today, he’d be pissed if Hoseok came to ask him to cover again. He’d already done it five times in the past month. He put out his cigarette and moved towards the entrance. With a scowl on his face he answered the door to see your frame standing in the doorway. 
Jungkook raised a brow at you before looking down to see you dressed in your work uniform. You also had a regular job, but you worked as a bartender at the local joint in town. You took notice of his scowl and gave him a playful pout. 
“Aw baby, you look so much cuter when you smile,” you said with a pat to his cheek. Jungkook rolled his eyes but let you in as he saw you carrying his favorite booze in your hand. You set the bottle on the table and went to take your shoes off when Jungkook saw a flash of your panties up your skirt. 
It was Saturday. You and Jungkook usually fucked during the week as it worked best with both of your schedules. It was rare to see you on the weekends, as this was when the most tips came from the bar's patrons. 
“It’s Saturday,” he said, eyes trailing back to your face. 
You’d noticed his staring, but you didn’t care-this is usually what happened when he hadn’t seen you in a while. 
“Does that mean we can’t fuck on a Saturday?” you asked, head tilting to the side. 
Jungkook lit another cigarette. “Why aren’t you working?” he asked, taking a deep drag off the tobacco stick. You smiled at him and Jungkook sighed deeply.
You only smiled like that when you were up to no good. 
“I’m trying to set Sana and Alex up,” you said with that same damned smile. 
“Why the fuck do you want to do that?” he asked, tapping some of the ash off his vice into a glass. 
“Because they love each other, they just need a push to figure it out for themselves. So I asked to take an earlier shift today because we had a date,” you said, walking closer. Jungkook watched the sway in your hips and felt the stirring in his lower stomach. He wouldn’t mind fucking you tonight. It was better than forgetting what time it was. Again. “Plus a few of my sisters from the coven are coming over tonight.”
Jungkook sighed, decidedly ignoring the mention of your coven. “A date, huh?” 
You pouted and he smirked at your disappointment. “What? Can’t I say that’s what it is? Got something against dating me?” 
He inhaled deeply. “Not particularly, but demons and witches don’t mesh well.” 
A sharp jab to your heart, but Jungkook was great at those. Without realizing it, he broke your heart day after day. It was ridiculous honestly, you shouldn’t have fallen for him in the first place. Really, you shouldn’t have. You knew it was wrong. Jungkook wasn’t incorrect when he said witches and demons don’t get along well. Some witches had a strong moral code and demons could go against all of them without even a second glance. 
Jungkook technically could get you kicked out of your coven. 
But he was too enthralled with the fact you put out on the regular and you were too enthralled with him in general.
Overall, it wasn’t the best situation, but Jungkook had done you some favors in the past. Acquiring materials for your coven’s spells, summoning a few extra hundred dollars when you’re short on rent, and giving you an equally satisfying sex life. 
Hopefully, tonight was going to prove no different. 
“You seem to mesh just fine with me,” you said, voice teasing and obviously hinting. 
His eyes flashed a deep crimson at the thought of being able to fuck you. He’d been wound up and needing something besides cigarettes recently. Your body would be a welcomed distraction.
 “I do, don’t I?” he said, voice turning smoother.
Jungkook was an attentive lover, always making sure you came multiple times. As a demon he had good refraction period and was able to fuck you after cumming-sometimes multiple times a day. Especially if you hadn’t been able to come over often enough.
You hadn’t seen him in probably two weeks, you had to travel for a coven meeting. But it seems those two weeks left him needing you. 
He crowded your space, hands winding around your body and squeezing your ass. He rested his head against your collarbone, hiding his face in your neck. Jungkook did this sometimes, almost as if he could shrink his world and thoughts down to just this moment. This space. This breath happening between the two of you. 
You were about to ask if he was alright when he captured your lips in a hungry kiss. You responded, letting him back you up towards the wall. Your thighs clenched at the attention. Jungkook had to be the best sexual partner you’d ever had in your almost one hundred years of life. Being a witch had its perks as well.
He was desperate against your mouth, panting and eagerly licking in between your lips, parting them so he could tangle his tongue with yours. His hands wound up your lower back. 
“Jungkook, baby,” you whined softly, as he swallowed your lips once more. “I gotta be quick today,” you frowned.
“That’s fine, I won’t last long anyways,” he said, already painfully hard in his jeans.
He turned you around, having your palms flat against the wall. “Think you can stand while I fuck you?” He asked, licking his lips at the sight of your ass presented nicely to him in your short skirt.
“Yes-I can,” you bit your lip, mind reeling with the fact you were about to have him again. You and Jungkook fucked fairly often, probably three times a month, sometimes more if he could swing it. And this had been your arrangement for almost a year now.
People at work knew Jungkook, he was a regular at the bar and people often referred to him as your boyfriend. In their minds you two were just young adults figuring out life and it would all work in the end. You two cared for each other-right?
“Hey,” Jungkook said, voice softer. “You there?”
Ah, you slipped into your thoughts again. 
“I’m here, it’s fine-please,” you whimpered, looking over your shoulder at him, the burning in between your thighs causing you pain. Jungkook nodded before flipping your skirt up and tugging your panties down your legs. You were soaked, wetness pulling away with your panties that had Jungkook hissing between his teeth.
“Fuck, do I have time to eat you out? Just a bit? Fuck please,” he begged, kneeling behind you and kissing your ass hungrily. “Let me, I need it baby, please?”
You really did have to be quick, members of your coven were coming over tonight and you’d have to scrub yourself stupid in the shower to not smell like demon. But fuck-when he begged like that?
“Whatever you want,” you said, voice breathless at his eagerness. 
He was so good at getting what he wanted. It always worked with you, and it always would unfortunately.
“Fuck yes,” he groaned, placing his mouth on you in needy kisses. Jungkook’s tongue threaded between your lips and found your clit almost immediately. You cried out and gripped the wall as he ate your pussy like a starved man. 
He liked it.
He liked eating your pussy so much. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was the flavor, the amount of slick you produced for him, the way you rutted your hips back against him whenever he did it. You made the sweetest noises when he had his mouth on your cunt and now was proving no different. Jungkook almost felt high at the feeling of your wetness collecting on his face.
Maybe it was that part he was addicted to. Or maybe it was worse than that. In times like this, he really could forget. He could forget he was a demon, not many people willingly share this much of themselves with a demon and know the consequences. But as a witch, you knew what would happen if your coven found out. You knew and yet? You still let him in. You let him touch you and fuck you. All of it.
“Kook~” you cried out, head pressing against the wall. “Please, gonna cum,” you whimpered out. 
Damn, he was hoping to get a little more than that. The next time you came over he was going to want to eat your pussy for hours.
“Then cum for me, baby, get yourself nice and wet for my cock,” he said.
You didn’t need much today, you were just as needy as he was. Probably more so. A few more heady sucks of his lips and you were cumming.
“Jungkook-fuck,” you gasped. He smirked and stood up, licking his lips as he undid his jeans. You panted harshly against the wall, mind whirling in pleasure.
“That’s it, pretty thing,” he cooed, approaching with his now crimson eyes. You knew he must be needing this if he’s so worked up already. 
“Please baby, give me your cock?” you asked, reaching behind you to grab the front of his undone jeans. Jungkook followed easily when you tugged, your hand dipping underneath the fabric to grasp his cock. He sighed in pleasure, pushing his pants down further and head tilting back just a touch. He pushed his boxers down as well, freeing his cock entirely before you smiled back at him and taking him in your hand once more. 
“Fuck, yes,” he said, voice turning raspy and dark. 
You winked and pumped him a few times before lining him up with your dripping core. He hadn’t stretched you but you wanted the burn today. “Fuck me then,” you said, inviting him inside you once more. 
Jungkook held your hip as he started to lead his cock between your lips. “You wet enough?” he asked, raising a brow at you.
Such a smug bastard. But his cock was big enough he needed to ask-because he didn’t want to hurt you. His demonic nature was there, but honestly hurting someone that had continuously done him favors didn’t seem that important.
“Y-Yeah,” you whimpered, rubbing against him. “Please put it in, want your thick cock in me so bad Jungkook!”
He nodded, finally pushing in just a touch. You whined, head falling back as you felt the full sensation begin. Jungkook growled out at your tightness gripping his cock just right, giving him the rush of tingles down his spine. He gave gentle thrusts into your heat to ease you open, although you were really squeezing him today and his eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation of your sweet cunt letting him in inch by inch. 
“Fuck I love your pussy,” he groaned, rolling his hips into yours fully. 
“Love your cock,” you cried, walls clenching down on him harshly. Jungkook couldn’t stop his reaction of bucking into you roughly. You let out a sharp cry at his cock hitting deeper than usual.
“Sorry baby, m’sorry,” he murmured against your skin, kissing your neck and shoulder. Moments like that were the ones you remembered with pain in your chest. The way he easily apologized for the slightest harm to you. All except the harm to your heart.
You shook your head. “It’s okay, don’t worry-just, oh! G-give me more!” 
He didn’t need to be told twice, holding your hips he started thrusting inside of you with firm pushes. He huffed in his own pleasure, watching your puffy pussy swallowing his cock with each rut forward. “Look so good like this, take my cock so well,” he sighed, the sweet sensations of your warm, wet walls sucking him in had shivers rocketing down his spine and pooling heat in his stomach. 
“Cock so good, made to take it baby, love having you inside me like this,” you mewled. Jungkook smirked at your pleasure cries reaching his ears. 
“Made to take me huh?” he asked, giving harsher thrusts inside of you and watching as your face morphed into shocked pleasure. 
“J-Jungkook!” you sobbed out.
He was panting against your skin, thrusting inside you with eager pushes of his hips against your ass. The sound of skin slapping echoed through his apartment.
Jungkook could barely think at this point in sex. He was driven by your high pitched cries and the boiling need in his stomach. “Cum baby, cum all over my cock. Gonna let me cum inside today baby?” He teased, huffing sex driven laughter across your throat while he bit down.
“Mmm~ah! Y-Yeah, it’s fine, I have the potion for it,” you cried, grabbing his hand that was gripping one of your hips. He wound the other around your front to start playing with your clit to get you there faster.
“Then I’m gonna fill you up baby, feel it dripping inside of you huh? Wanna cum baby, fuck I really want it, say I can have it,” he groaned.
He loved hearing you beg for his cum. It did something to him, made his high that much sweeter because you pleaded for it. You wanted him that badly. There was something hot about having your watery eyes beg with his to finally let you cum. 
“You can, you always can baby,” you promised, holding his wrist while he pounded inside you brutally. 
Jungkook smiled against your skin before husking permission to cum against your jaw. With a deep gasp you came, Jungkook following not too shortly after. Your pussy milking him with each pulse of your afterglow. 
“Thank you-fuck, oh baby,” you shivered against him, leaning into the kisses he trailed along your shoulder. 
“Fuck give me a second, I came so hard,” he said, slumping against you while he pressed you against the wall with him still inside of you. But soon enough you felt him soften and with a deep sigh he pulled from you.
You shivered as his cum trickled down your thigh. 
“Ah shit, sorry baby,” he said, running to grab a few tissues. You panted softly against the wall, keeping yourself steady so as not to make a mess. He came back and helped you clean up a bit and offered you his shower. 
“Can’t, got sisters coming over tonight, if I shower here they’ll smell demon on me from a mile away,” you stated. “But thanks,” you said with a smile. 
He nodded, sitting at his tiny coffee table smoking a cigarette. 
Jokingly, you teased him. “Those’ll kill you one day,” you said, pulling on your shoes. 
Jungkook’s face didn’t smile like you were hoping. Although it rarely did, you felt the difference. He was… upset?
“No, I’ll be dead by next year regardless,” he whispered. 
The room went eerily quiet. Your heart was hammering in your chest. What did he mean he would be dead by next year?
“What the fuck does that mean?” You said, walking towards him in concern. “The fuck do you mean you’ll be dead by next year?”
Jungkook wasn’t phased by your anger. You hardly knew his story and he preferred to keep it that way. Because he knew this would be your reaction. And he hated fighting with you. It never made any difference. 
“Didn’t you find a demon, on its own-no contracts or groups or general mayhem happening-a little odd?” He asked, putting out his cigarette.
You swallowed thickly. It was odd. But you weren’t going to argue with a good thing and, perhaps you’d hoped that there was maybe just a happy coincidence, for once.
Of course you were wrong.
Naïveté hadn’t served you well in the past and it seemed to stomp your heart once again in this long life of yours…
“I never found you odd, Jungkook,” you said. 
“You should’ve.”
Your heart was racing making your next words slightly frantic. “What’s wrong with you, huh? What’s going on? Are you finally gonna tell me?”
He sighed deeply. He hated the sound of your voice right now. You sounded like you were going to cry, and he didn’t want to make you upset. Watching you cry was painful. 
“I have a quota of souls to collect. If I don’t collect all of them by the time set-I disappear,” he said. “The souls of those who know unrequited love.”
Your throat felt dry at his statement. What could you say to that? Was there anything to be said? It’s not like you two were dating, it’s also not like you ever could with you being in the coven.
“How many souls do you have left?” You asked, voice sad. 
“Ten,” he breathed.
Ten. Ten souls before next year didn’t seem crazily difficult. But the specificity did complicate things.
You nodded. “Okay, I’ll help you,” you said. 
Jungkook’s head snapped to you, and he stood quickly. “Don’t fucking say that,” he said, voice shaking with anger. 
“But why not? Why can’t I help you? I have the ability to find souls like that, we can travel and you can collect.” You explained. 
“We?” He asked, raising a brow. “You really think I trust you enough to let you do that? How do I know you wouldn’t take me right to that coven of yours?”
You felt your heart break. “Is that what you think I would do?” You said, voice sad and in disbelief. Jungkook knew it was a low blow, but he had to get you to leave if this is where this conversation was going.
He didn’t like hurting you, or your feelings. It usually wasn’t necessary but sometimes you dug too deep, and he had to back you off somehow.
“The fuck is your problem you asshole,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes. “All I did was ask to help you, is it so wrong that I actually want you around? That I actually like hanging out with your crabby ass… call me when you’re not being a massive dickhead” you said, grabbing your bag but intentionally leaving the booze. All it would do was make you think of him anyway. Jungkook was about to call out your name but you slammed the door right in the middle of his sentence.
“Fuck…”
He knew that wasn’t fair, he knew that he shouldn’t have snapped at you like that but… sometimes you did get too close. Jungkook knew what his end would be, and there wasn’t anything you or he could do about it.
At least, nothing he wanted to do about it…
You hadn’t spoken to Jungkook in a week or two now. He hadn’t reached out and you weren’t particularly interested in fighting with him again, not right now. He really did hurt your feelings… He could trust you, you wondered briefly what it would take for him to listen. To hear that you wanted him to collect those souls. 
You were just as damned as he was, you knew that. Even more so if your coven discovered what you were up to in your bedroom. And heart…
Just as you were about to suck it up and call him, your phone rang. It was a number you didn’t immediately recognize, but the area code was local.
“Hello?” You answered. 
“Hey, Y/N?” Hoseok’s voice echoed through the phone. Hoseok was a fellow mechanic at the shop Jungkook worked at. 
But what would he be calling for?
“Yeah? What’s up Hoseok?” You asked.
“Um… Jungkook, he collapsed at work, he might need to go to the doctor but we’re slammed. You’re his emergency contact so I’m calling you to let you know what’s going on?” His voice sounded worried and confused. Jungkook never got sick, he was a demon, but they didn’t know that. They just knew he was a healthy young guy. 
But this was odd. 
“I’ll be right there,” you said, hanging up and grabbing your keys.
The drive through town was relatively quiet, but when you got to the shop you could see that there were several people waiting for their usual tune ups and repair work.
You walked in and Ashley, the receptionist, smiled at you. “Hey Y/N, thanks for coming. Jungkook’s in the office with Namjoon,” she said softly.
With a nod you headed back towards the office. You heard Namjoon speaking to Jungkook, but it seemed like he was either not responsive or just choosing to ignore him. The latter seemed more probable. Namjoon was the head mechanic at the shop and ran it for his friend Chen who owned a couple different car places throughout the area. 
You opened the door and Jungkook’s head turned towards you. “Baby,” he called. You tried to keep the smirk off your face but you crossed your arms and leaned back against the door.
“Oh, so now I’m your baby?” You said, running your tongue along your teeth with an unimpressed look on your face. Jungkook sighed heavily, knowing that you were going to be pissed with him, he was lucky you came at all. Especially after how he treated you the last time you two saw each other. 
Namjoon sighed, used to the bickering and sour looks shared between the two of you here and there. “I don’t know what caused it Y/N, but he seems pretty sick. He might need to go to the doctor.”
Jungkook was about to protest when you nodded. “I’ll take him,” you said. His eyes flashed red in annoyance but it was brief. 
“Chen’s already given him the rest of today and tomorrow off,” Namjoon said. “So hopefully that’ll give him some time to recoup, but if he needs more just have him give us a call.”
You nodded, reaching for Jungkook’s hand. He took it, sitting up slowly. You read his energy and found yourself immediately concerned. He seemed to notice your worry and sighed deeply before standing and leaning against you. Without much more ceremony you ledhim to your car.
Neither of you said much as you got him in and started off towards his place. You would have to do an energy transfer for him tonight, luckily it would just take a few potions or a spell to replenish his energy, sex worked as well but ultimately the cause had you concerned. 
His human body was starting to deteriorate.
When you arrived you grabbed him and helped get him inside his house.
He was panting softly and laid back on his bed in a huff.
“You need energy,” you whispered, leaning forward to give him some of yours to ease some of his pain. Jungkook turned his head to keep your lips from connecting in the way he needed. “You’re being a shit, either let me help you or delete my number.”
Jungkook frowned, swallowing hard before turning his head so your lips could connect. He breathed deeply in relief as your energy flowed through him softly. Your energy had always been soothing to him, but right now it seemed to help immensely.
He’d missed you.
When you moved to pull away he grabbed you by the back of your neck and connected your lips again. You kissed him with a gentleness that he wasn’t used to, your lips gliding over his softly and with a warmth that was addictive. 
He loved your bites and eager kisses but this… This had things stirring in his stomach that frightened him.
Jungkook was afraid of very few things. But your genuine care for him scared him most of all. Because he knew he didn’t deserve it. Jungkook wasold and angry and yet, more exhausted than anything.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and settled in his lap. Kissing him a bit more to relax him. The energy would settle soon enough and he would at least be able to tell you what happened. 
“Baby,” he called, voice raspy and tired.
“Yes, Kook, what’s wrong?” You cooed, running your hands through his hair to ease him into accepting your energy. The more he fought it the less it would work. “Relax baby, I can’t help if you don’t let me.”
He nodded, head dropping into your neck as he simply tried to feel you. It had been a long time since he’d needed a transfer from you but each time he always forgot how easy you made it. 
“Good job, sweet boy,” you praised, kissing his cheek and temple.
Jungkook sighed heavily against your skin, placing tender kisses there as well. “Can I have more energy baby… please?”
You smirked. “Do you want the potions? I know they taste bad but they work, or we can do a direct transfer through sex-”
“Yes,” he said quickly. 
You chuckled softly before nodding. “That’s fine then, lay back baby,” you said, undoing his belt and getting his pants unbuttoned. 
“Fuck,” he sighed, head tipping back in bliss as you touched him. He felt encompassed by you and your soothing energy.
Your hand slipped in his pants and squeezed his cock gently to encourage him to harden. Your kisses on his jaw and neck stayed sweet but they were firmer, something told you he needed to be babied today. And even though it was rare, you adored it every time. You pushed his pants down further so they wouldn’t be in your way, sending him a look as you spat on his cock. You wrapped your hand around the shaft and pumped slowly, watching the pleasure write across his features. 
“F-Fuck, yeah-ah,” he whimpered, eyes shut and brow furrowed in ecstasy.
“Getting so hard so fast, gonna feel so good in my pussy baby,” you cooed, taking his hand and leading it under your skirt. 
Jungkook’s eyes practically sparkled at the fact you were so wet. “Soaked-you’re soaked angel,” he moaned, touching your core carefully.
You hiccuped a soft sigh of pleasure before leaning down and taking his cock in your mouth. Jungkook’s breathing stammered at your hot and wet throat swallowing his cock.
You’d always done it so well, and Jungkook could say he would die happily if you were sucking his dick. “F-Fuck, angel, please-mmm,” he groaned, his other hand gently caressing the back of your head. “Sweet tongue, feels so fucking good.
You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock before eagerly swallowing it again. Jungkook’s submissive whines had you clenching your thighs together as his fingers snuck inside your panties.
“O-Open your legs-please, wanna touch your pussy, need to feel you,” he whimpered.
Without much ceremony you did as he asked, opening your legs to let him touch you. Jungkook moaned at the feeling of your slick heat against his fingers, he plunged two inside of you causing your throat to tighten around his cock, giving him a rush of heady pleasure down his spine. He could feel you everywhere. Your energy coursing through him, your hot mouth on his dick and your juicy pussy dripping down his fingers. He was quickly getting overwhelmed in the best way. He wanted more of you, more and more until there was nothing left to give. He wanted to give you more too.
He desperately wished he could sometimes.
“Koo~” you moaned on his cock, rutting your hips gently to remind him you were currently soaking his hand and needed some stimulation or you were going to lose your mind. 
“Yeah angel baby, soaking pussy feels so good...”
You whimpered on his cock, using the vibrations to pleasure him that much more. But his fingers were working so much slick from your core you knew you needed to have him inside or you were going to go insane. He cried out when you pulled away, eyes wide with need. You kissed him then, giving him a touch more energy to help ease his frantic breathing. He shivered when you climbed on top of him, your warmth and wetness seemingly everywhere. 
“Ready baby? Want me to put you in?” you asked, tugging your panties off and slipping your skirt down and off of your legs. 
Jungkook nodded quickly. “Please, please baby let me feel you,” he said, reaching for you as you crawled back into his bed. You smiled and rubbed yourself against his cock teasingly for a moment before Jungkook looked about ready to cry. 
“Alright sweetie, I’ll stop teasing now, take what you need,” you said, easing yourself down on him. Jungkook’s hands settled at your hips, huffing out desperate breaths of pleasure as your tight heat swallowed his sensitive cock. 
“Yes! Yes fuck, feels so fucking good angel, oh baby,” he cried, sounding wrecked already. 
You had a feeling you would be doing most of the work today, so you started gingerly bouncing on his cock. Jungkook’s eyes were sparkling, turning a soft purple color as your magic intertwined with him. You had been training for years to have this level of mana and Jungkook knew he’d only scratched the surface of your abilities on days like this.
Sometimes he wondered how strong you really were. You handled him like you weren’t afraid of him or his powers. Albeit his strength was significantly less than it was back in hell.
Even then though, he was curious.
“Fuck~ Jungkook!” you whined, grinding your clit on his lower stomach. “Please, please baby, wanna make you cum,” you pleaded. “Cum inside me baby, please? Give me your cum and I’ll take it like such a good girl. Your good girl Kook,” you said, reaching down to play with yourself.
Jungkook groaned in pleasure. “So close baby, so close-ah fuck!” he gritted out through his teeth.
“Gonna fill me up? Please give it to me, Jungkook. Wanna have your cum so deep inside.”
He couldn’t hold it back anymore, Jungkook sat up and pulled you close as he rutted deeply in your pussy for a few quick thrusts before he shivered in release. You felt your core pulsing at his whimpers and whines from the pleasure your body gave him. His head was flush against your chest as he panted.
You smiled, running your fingers through his hair to soothe him. Your energy was mellowing nicely with his giving him more color in his face that eased your own heart. “Kook,” you said softly. “D’you feel okay?” you asked, hips and thighs burning from the effort to fuck him, but the pleased look on his face made everything worth it in your mind. 
“You didn’t cum,” he said, reaching down to touch your sensitive clit. He was still decently hard inside of you, but you knew he didn’t have long. “Wanna make you cum angel,” he said, rolling his hips up into your gingerly.
“Mmm, baby,” you called in a pitched tone. “Won’t take much, I’m so close,” you hiccuped, resting your head on his shoulder. 
Jungkook grunted, his cock was sensitive but your sweet moans kept him up long enough to feel that tight squeeze from your pussy and the rush of slick that soaked his cock in response. “Fuck, yes, yes give it to me,” he begged. 
You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him sweetly. You scanned his energy quickly and felt relieved to know it was almost back to normal. “Thank you baby,” you said, patting his cheek with a dizzying smile. 
“It’s not as good if you don’t cum, love feeling you squeeze me,” he sighed in bliss, your warmth still holding his cock nicely. 
Sometimes he liked this. He liked just feeling your body against his, his cock inside you for a few moments after you both came. You got wetter and slicker and your walls felt so nice on his cock he thought it would make him cum again some days. 
You smoothed your hands down his back, holding him close as your energy finally settled and his eyes changed back to their regular brown color. 
With wobbly knees you got up and headed towards his bathroom. 
Jungkook laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. He wanted a cigarette but he’d run out the night before.
You came back and stood before him. Jungkook could see up your skirt and he was trying not to focus on that as you stood there with a waiting expression.
He inhaled deeply. “I know you read my energy. You know what’s happening to me,” he said.
“I want to hear you say it to me,” you stated.
Jungkook nodded, agreeing with your demands of honesty. Finally.
“Not all demons are without humanity. Some have more than others, yet I always seemed to stray towards more rather than less… there was a woman, I slowly found things I liked about her. Then things I enjoyed… then things I found myself smiling about on my own. I was endeared to this woman… I loved her in a sense,” he said, staring at the ceiling.
“And yet, it wasn’t enough,” he breathed. “My fellow knights laughed at me, then berated me for genuinely showing care towards a human. As one of the high knights of hell I was expected to have higher standards than disgusting humans. So they bound me in a human body, locking most of my powers away, so I would no longer be able to communicate with the human I once cared for. And then I was given the quota I told you about… and five thousand years to make it happen. If I didn’t collect a thousand souls then I cease to exist, it’s starting. My timer is running out.”
You swallowed thickly. “How do I help you stop it? How do I help you?”
Jungkook gave you a tired smile. “Baby, I don’t want to ask that of you. I’m so old now, this life doesn’t matter to me anymore.”
You felt a few tears well up in your eyes despite yourself. “It fucking matters to me…” you whimpered. “You matter to me.”
Jungkook was stunned. “Y/N,” he said, reaching for you.
You sat on the bed next to him. “I don’t want you to disappear. What will happen if you collect all one thousand souls?”
“I will be reinstated in Hell,” he murmured. “I won’t disappear and I will be back to full strength once more.”
You swallowed hard, nodding your head. Either way you’d lose him, but at least one way he’d still be alive… “Then let me help you, I don’t want to see you die like this.”
Jungkook sighed deeply. He’d never had many friends. He had people he kept around for convenience, but overall he’d kept to himself throughout the years. You were the only one in recent history that he’d told anything to. Perhaps he could truly do this. He could be reborn in hell once more.
And when he got back to hell… he could rip those knights apart for what they put him through…
He nodded. “I’ll need your help,” he said.
“You have it,” the words fell easily from your lips. “I won’t let you die like this.”
“Then I won’t.”
Jungkook hadn’t expected you to take this so seriously. And yet, here you were in his apartment. You had your glasses on and were gazing at your spellbook as a potion boiled on the stove. Jungkook alway thought you used a cauldron.
‘You think my tiny ass apartment could fit a cauldron?!’ You’d cried in annoyance at his teasing.
So here it bubbled and boiled and no doubt would cause trouble for Jungkook when he would ultimately have to clean it later.
“Baby,” he called, moving closer to you with your cup of coffee.
You’d stayed the night last night-Jungkook may have fucked you stupid enough he was worried about you driving. There weren’t any sisters of the coven stopping by soon so you could spend the night wrapped in his sheets. And you did exactly that.
You had ten months and twelve days to complete the task Jungkook had been given.
Ten more souls in ten months.
You’d already gotten a list together of possible cities you could look into. Once you had your potion perfected, Jungkook could go out and find his prey with minimal difficulty.
You took the cup from him, setting your spellbook aside as he sat across from you on the couch. You sighed and removed your glasses, rubbing your sleepy features before taking a sip of the hot coffee.
Jungkook watched you and gave your knee a squeeze. “Don’t use up too much energy baby. I’ve got ten months,” he said.
“Ten months isn’t a long time for a witch, nor is it for a demon, we need to work quickly before your condition progresses,” you said, drinking more of your coffee.
Jungkook crawled forward, taking your coffee from you which caused a pout to befall your features. He set your coffee down and crawled on top of you, laying his head right under your chest. He’d crawled between your thighs and was lying entirely over you.
“Need more energy?” You asked, running your fingers through his hair. 
“No, I’m fine,” he said, resting against you.
You chuckled before resting back, hand still playing with the hair on his head. Recently, Jungkook had been craving these more than his cigarettes. Simple touches, soft kisses and conversations. Jungkook had never felt so at ease before. Even in his life as a knight of hell.
Jungkook rested heavily against your stomach, laying in between your legs. You knew this could be a side effect of your energy transfer-but it had been a while since he’d needed one. Usually the clinging from your energy would dissipate in a day or two.
It had been at least a week at this point. So what made Jungkook so snuggly? You didn’t want to complain about a sweet thing however.
Jungkook leaned into you more, curling around you as you kept rubbing his scalp. He seemed happy to just stay like this for a while. And you wondered what was causing such a change in him. Was this what he was like with those he trusted?
Sweet and softer?
Or was this purely for you-
No.
You couldn’t think that way, not about Jungkook. Either way this ended with him leaving you… you had to keep focused, you were doing this for your friend.
Your truest friend.
Jungkook snoozed on your belly, content to laze about while you did the hard work. But your heart broke a little more that day.
As you slowly started to fall for a man without a soul.
--
You’d been stressed today. 
Jungkook could tell that you were just by the cute frown on your face, it seemed to have a permanent place on your pretty features today. It always appeared when you were frustrated or angry. He’d seen it directed at him several times, but right now it was at the potion you were working on. 
There was a new ingredient you were sampling in it or something to that effect, Jungkook didn’t really understand much of what you were doing to be honest. But it was clear you were stumped for now. It was almost two o’clock in the morning.
“Y/N...” he trailed off, approaching as you sighed deeply.
Jungkook rarely said your name, so to hear it come out you knew whatever he said next he either was serious. 
“Time to take a break,” he whispered, standing behind you in his kitchen. There were bags of ingredients all over the kitchen and it would no doubt be left there until later when you two woke up. You’d been staying at his place more and more lately and he couldn’t find it in himself to complain. He had access to your sweet lips and body daily, but it seemed rare that he wanted sex recently. Not that he wasn’t attracted or he was disinterested, it was merely there were other things about you that he was finding more and more interesting. Sex would always be one of his favorite activities with you, but right now he felt that he was learning new things about you everyday. It had him excited in ways he hadn’t been in centuries. 
It also had him concerned. 
Jungkook was a demon, he shouldn’t be having feelings like this. It almost shouldn’t be possible. It was not in his design to care much about people or have interest in them other than striking deals and killing them to collect their souls. 
But Jungkook pushed all of those worries and thoughts to the back of his head. 
Because your frown had appeared again, and that sweet pout he wanted to kiss. 
“I’ve almost got it,” you said, voice soft and sleepy. 
“I’m sure you do baby, but you’re tired and you won’t work well when you’re falling asleep,” he said, kissing your shoulder. “Come to bed...”
You leaned back heavily against him, looking up at his face while you sighed. With a tired smile you patted his cheek. 
“I don’t want to give up for the night yet, you go to bed, I’ll join you in a bit...”
Jungkook wasn’t going to take that for his answer. So he turned the burner on his stove off and lifted you into his arms deftly. You didn’t have it in you to fight him, you expected this result anyways. 
He laid you in bed and crawled in next to you. He pulled you into his embrace and sighed heavily as you snuggled in. He wrapped you up in his arms and you looked at his expression and gave him a smile. A real one. In reward he returned it, kissing your lips before laying back on the pillow. 
“Sleep baby, we can try again in the morning.”
His words soothed something inside of you, the desperate thirst to have this potion done so you didn’t waste any more precious time. 
You could waste a little time though, right?
Here in his arms you thought you could waste a lot more time than you had...
A weekend trip to the city was easy to conceal from your coworkers and sisters. You claimed you wanted a weekend away from coven activities-which was a bold-faced lie as you would be using magic in public which was almost exclusively forbidden. And doing it to help a demon. 
Needless to say you hoped no one in your coven ever found out about this.
Jungkook grabbed his bag and tossed it into the back of his car as he got your stuff in too. “Got my keys baby?”
You tossed them across his car and he caught them, moving into the drivers side and opening your door for you. You climbed in and buckled up and shortly thereafter you were on the road.
You and Jungkook turned on a playlist and drove out of the town's limits and made it to the highway. Jungkook changed the playlist and you two settled in for a while.
After a bit, Jungkook reached over and grabbed your thigh, driving with one hand on the wheel. You looked down at his hand before gazing back at him.
“What?” You asked softly.
Ten months and three days. That’s how long you had left.
“Just wanted to.” 
Your mouth curved into a shy smile before you placed your hand on his, afterwards your fingers intertwined in your lap.
Soon, you rolled into the city. Jungkook had gotten a decent hotel room for a few days for you two to have a home base. You’d find sections of the city where the next soul was and Jungkook could go out at night and collect.
His powers made it discrete however. Usually the attack was made to look like a natural cause. Rarely did it arouse suspicion. All by design.
When you two made it to your hotel room, Jungkook was quick to attach himself to you. He’d been less interested in solely gaining sex from you recently. However it had been a while since your last romp.
His lips found your neck as you tried to get your stuff out of your bag.
“Kook, what do you want?” You huffed as his hard length brushed against your ass. An aroused shiver rushed through you, sex being a little less frequent between the two of you had you more sensitive to his touch than usual.
“Wanna fuck baby, please?” He asked, rutting against your core softly.
You rolled back against him, unable to help yourself in this instant. His body felt so good and you were more than willing to have him between your legs.
“Yes, fuck me, Kook,” you breathed.
Jungkook didn’t waste much time, he hooked his fingers in your pants and pulled them down quickly. Your panties were damp and Jungkook purred at the sight. “You’re so wet baby,” he smiled, his hand dipping in your panties while he kissed your jaw.
You couldn’t help the soft juts of your hips into the cup of his pelvis, causing your ass to grind against his cock. “Fuck… Jungkook,” you whined, head rolling back on his chest. A soft chuckle escaped him at your needy tone.
“Yeah, m’gonna fuck you so hard baby,” he said. His fingers found your wet folds, sinking two inside your entrance shallowly, causing you to clench desperately.
You held his wrist, whimpering in need. “Please, please,” you panted. “Need something inside. Need you inside me, Kook.”
Jungkook kissed your jaw, a smile on his face. “Want my cock baby? Want it in that sweet little pussy?”
“Yeah~” you pleaded. 
With a deep sigh Jungkook took his hand from inside your panties, tasting your slick and moaning. 
“I need to eat your pussy first,” he said, turning you around and laying you on the bed. You laid back on the bed, peeling your legs open so that he could lay between them. Jungkook grabbed your panties and tossed them away. He breathed out in an eager pant. His eyes were locked on your core and then he looked at you. 
“Wanna eat it baby?” you asked, smiling at his hungry eyes. 
“Yeah,” he whined. “Let me have it, please baby let me eat your pretty pussy. Make you cum so nice,” he said, licking his lips.
Jungkook looked at your core, furrowed brows as he seemed as if he was almost in pain. “Please…”
You nodded. “Okay baby,” you said with a grin. “Take it then.”
He captured your lower lips in a hot kiss, moaning deeply as he licked between your folds to gather more of your sweetness that had him addicted. “Fuck… yes,” he groaned, moving to hold your thighs apart so he had better access to your dripping core.
“Kook!” You whined, head falling back on your shoulders as your fingers wound into his hair. “Fuck, fuck your mouth!” You cried.
Jungkook was eager to eat, it seemed that no matter how much time he spent between your legs it wouldn’t be enough. He’d always wish for one more minute, your sweet cunt on his mouth and your wetness gathering on his tongue had his cock pulsing in need. But he didn’t care about that, getting you soaking wet for his cock was all that was on his mind.
He took your clit between his pretty lips and started sucking harshly. He swirled his tongue around your sensitive bud before going back to suck again. You mewled in pleasure, thighs trembling at his heady touches. His middle and pointer fingers rubbed over your core before catching at your entrance. With a soft smirk he pushed his two fingers inside your hot walls. 
“Jungkook!” you cried, grabbing his hair harshly. He just moaned in acknowledgment, happily slurping the wetness you leaked as he thrust his fingers in and out of your pussy slowly. His eyes shimmered at the sight of your slick coating his digits as it always did. 
“I love your pussy so much, fuck,” he growled, lips and chin covered in you. 
“So close, Jungkook,” you begged, the throbbing in your walls a clear sign of your oncoming orgasm. 
He smirked again, before pulling away. You were about to cry for him to keep going when you heard him unbuckling his pants. With eager hands you moved forward to grab at him, pulling him closer as he chuckled at your neediness. 
“Don’t laugh at me,” you scowled.
“Sorry baby,” he cooed, kissing your jaw. “Gonna make you squirt on my cock to make up for it huh?”
You felt the rush of his words tingle down your spine. He rarely didn’t mean what he said. And you were his good girl. If he wanted you to squirt on his cock then so be it.
You two quickly got worked up as Jungkook kissed you breathless and you tugged his pants down his thick thighs. He pulled his shirt off of his body and your eyes always widened. His tattoos were on full display and his toned body moving on top of you had stars forming in your eyes. 
“You’re such a slut for a hot body,” he smirked, eyes dark and swirling with red undertones. 
“I’m a slut for your hot body, yes,” you corrected. His eyes widened at your statement, but you were pumping his dick in your hand and he quickly felt his need for you taking over. 
“Then let me put it in,” he sighed, naked now.
You were pulling your bra off when Jungkook leaned close. You looked at him in bewilderment for a moment before you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. 
There was this... sensation in Jungkook’s chest. Your bright eyes, teasing smile and sweet kiss encasing him and making him feel...
Lighter.
You laid back once you were naked as well and Jungkook moved eagerly to get in position. You giggled as he dragged you closer, adjusting you so his cock was now level with your pussy.
“Gonna put it in now baby,” he said, pushing just the tip of his cock inside before pulling out. You cried in impatience and Jungkook nodded, listening to both of your desires and pushing in further. Your fingers gripped the sheets of the bed and Jungkook rubbed your clit with his thumb to ease any tension from you so you could take him easily. He pulsed inside your cunt, a shiver of bliss running down his spine. It felt like electricity flowing through him. Your pussy was warm and snug around his cock and he could feel your wetness leaking down onto his balls already and he smiled. 
“Jungkook! Please, please move,” you whined, eyes watery and pretty. 
“Yes angel baby,” he agreed, thrusting inside of you with a steady pace. 
The two of you moaned in appreciation of the other. Jungkook’s thick cock filled you in every way you wanted and needed, hitting all the right fucking spots. You’d never had another partner make you feel this way in the over one hundred years of your life. You clenched tightly and Jungkook swore he almost lost his fucking mind. He grabbed your thigh as he ground his pelvis against yours after every other thrust, holding himself up with the other hand. He was rewarded with your decadent cries.
“Fuck! Jungkook, fuck me baby, please, more-I need more,” you begged, grabbing his upper back and shoulders desperately. 
Your wish was his command. He moved your thighs so your knees touched your ribs and started fucking you harder. The sound of your wet pussy swallowing him filled the room and he could hardly think. The only thing driving him was your cries and the pulsing in his lower stomach. 
“Fucking wet pussy, yes-yes!” He sighed, his head tipping back for a moment as the pleasure of the moment overcame him.
“So big-so full!” you whimpered. 
Jungkook smiled at your mewling cries, they coursed through his veins and made his chest tighten. Bringing you to this point was always so exhilarating. He loved pushing you to your limits and watching you shudder and gasp as he forced you to take it over and over again while the sparkle in your eye never faded. You wanted to take it, take him. You loved challenging him and bringing him to his knees just as often as he did to you.
“Yeah, take my big cock, snug little pussy takes my cock so well,” he growled, leaning down to kiss you with dark passion. He sucked on your lower lip before capturing your tongue in between his lips instead. 
“Ahhh~” you whined, his hips pushing harder and harder against yours. He finally released your tongue and pulled you into another deep kiss before giving two more firm thrusts before looking at you, his eyes swirling with their beautiful red hue.
“Wanna fuck you from behind baby,” he purred, pulling from you and encouraging you to roll onto your belly. He spanked your ass, gripping the flesh between his fingers and watching you writhe in need for him.
“Please Kook,” you begged. “Put it back in...” you said, wiggling your hips to entice him. Jungkook spanked you again, causing you to gasp in pleasure. 
“Wait for my cock you needy girl,” he said. “I’ll make it worth it,” he promised, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. You leaned your head to the side and reached up to cradle his neck. Jungkook trailed his hand down to your soaked pussy, throbbing with the need to cum. He slipped his fingers inside of you, reaching his other hand around your throat to tilt your head up. You watched him tower over you while his fingers plunged in and out of your sopping pussy. 
Jungkook bit his lip while watching your eyes glaze over with the desire to cum. He loved bringing you to this point. Needy, eager and pleading for the pleasure he can deliver to you. “Sweet pussy baby, wanna cum? Wanna cum on my fingers?” 
You couldn’t even form words with how good he felt. Your mouth was open as you panted your pleasure out in desperation. 
“Or do you want my thick cock making you cream and squirt?” He teased, curling his fingers to hit that spot inside you that had stars swirling in your vision. “What does my angel want?”
“Kook, p-put your cock in, need it!” You rasped, feeling far too fucked out to handle anymore teasing.
Jungkook honestly couldn’t wait much longer either. His stomach felt tight with desire and he really needed to cum. 
“Okay baby,” he cooed. Honestly, Jungkook was at his limit too. He couldn’t wait to feel the walls of your pussy wrapped around him while he plowed you into the bed and finished inside. Fuck, he wanted it so badly. 
Finally he lined up with your entrance and pushed inside slowly. A soft cry came from your lips that Jungkook shushed, a lazy smile on his face. “Don’t cry at me baby, I’ll fuck you even harder for it.”
Little did Jungkook know, you wanted the rough treatment right now. You wanted more of it. He sighed in bliss when he bottomed out in your tight cunt, a deep seated pleasure boiling in his stomach. He couldn’t wait to feel you cream around his cock. You were flat on your belly, legs together but ass perched slightly up so Jungkook slid all the more easily. 
“Yeah... just like that, good girl angel, that’s my good girl,” he said, starting to pick up pace rather quickly. You didn’t need him to be careful, you needed him to make you cum. 
“Kook-Jungkook!” you cried, gripping the sheets between your fingers as he started pounding you just as he promised. 
He couldn’t help the grin that fell over his features when he saw that ring of your cream forming at the base of his cock. “Fuck, fuck baby you look so good like this. Letting me fucking cream this pussy, ah~” he whined at your clenching walls sucking him in-begging in their own right for his cum. 
“Please kook, so close, let me cum baby, please-I need it, need you Kook!” you cried. Jungkook’s hands found yours as he leveraged his hips so he could go even harder inside you. 
“Gonna make me cum baby, make me cum fuck,” he huffed out, breaths coming in short pants. His brow was sweaty and the muscles in his thighs were trembling from the position he was fucking you in. But he didn’t care. Because your pussy was working him over and his balls were tensing as he waited for you to rut those cute little hips back. 
Like clockwork you did as he expected, one of your tells you would be cumming soon. “Fuck, Jungkook! So close-so close!” you squealed, gripping his hands desperately as he was slamming into you. The wet squelching noises of your pussy were driving him up the wall and the view of your ass while he wreaked havoc on your body.
“M’gonna cum, angel, tell me where you want it,” he said, panting against your ear as he leaned over you. 
“Inside baby, want all your cum inside me,” you whined. 
He growled deeply, kissing your neck and biting down while he rutted inside harshly. “Take it then, cream my cock while I fill you up,” he said, another passionate snarl leaving his lips.
You answered with your own sweet mewls of pleasure, egging him on, whispering more naughty things to make him fuck you that much harder. 
It didn’t take much longer before you both found yourselves thrown into orgasm. You first, walls squeezing him tightly, pulling him over the edge of bliss alongside you. He breathed hard against your shoulder, kissing along your skin to ease both of you through the intense sensations. 
His cum started seeping past his softening cock and Jungkook finally found the ability to move once more. He wandered to the bathroom and got a few washcloths to clean the pair of you up with. Soft kisses were placed along the crown of your head, your cheeks and lips. “Such a good girl, angel baby,” he praised, more words of affection lain across your skin with his mouth. 
Jungkook crawled into bed with you, pulling your frame close. “You alright?” 
A soft chuckle escaped you, curling into him with practiced ease. “Yeah, m’good,” you said, eyes drooping slowly.
He smiled at you then, and you felt an odd pulse go through you. 
The sooner you helped him, the faster he would slip from your grasp. These moments with him were fleeting, each time closer and closer to the last time you’d be entangled like this. Each kiss counting down in big red numbers. Your heart squeezed, and before you knew it, tears started to fall from your eyes. 
Jungkook startled at the sudden change in emotion from you. “Hey, what’s wrong baby? Y/N?” 
For a moment you really thought. 
You really thought that you two could love each other...
--
Jungkook left your room late that evening. He kissed your head as you slept, curled up in the sheets naked. Jungkook almost didn’t want to leave you, he wanted to sleep as well-he wanted to hold your warm frame against him as he did.
These thoughts were starting to concern him. These were the very kinds of thoughts that had damned him to spend five thousand years on Earth. He wasn’t keen on suffering for another five thousand.
As a demon, Jungkook wasn’t sure if he should be able to feel these things. He was starting to care for you. He wanted to spend time with you, he wanted to be around you. But he knew that your time together was limited. Either he died or was sent back to hell, and either way you two would lose each other in the end. 
It made him angry that this was your fate.
He didn’t want his time with you to be on a countdown. But the world is cruel by design and there was nothing Jungkook could do. You would ultimately be ripped from each other. 
As he walked down the streets, Jungkook took your potion you’d made to help him navigate all the different souls at once. Jungkook wasn’t used to hunting like this anymore, it felt like decades since his last hunt. Perhaps it was, he wasn’t sure at this point. One thousand souls is a lot of people to collect from, and five thousand years is a long time to be on Earth. He was always forgetting the time before he met you.
Now, his time had never felt more limited. 
Jungkook weaved through the people of the night, watching with keen eyes that were enhanced with your potion. Your potion also enhanced his other abilities, his strength and allure were heightened as well. 
Everything would increase Jungkook’s likelihood of taking a few souls tonight. 
He slid into a seat at a random dive bar, he charmed the bartender to give him a free drink as he walked through the people. There was a woman here, she was in her early thirties. Jungkook followed her, projecting a different face to lure her in. 
Jungkook approached her cooly, speaking in soft tones and shy smiles to coax her into divulging her name. He handed her the drink and she blushed softly. The poor woman was in love with her boss, who was married. There was no way they’d ever get to be together. He always felt moderately bad for these people, but before he met you he thought they almost deserved it in a sense. That’s what they got for getting their hopes up. But now.... 
He led her outside into an alleyway where he seduced her just a bit more. Jungkook breathed her name out, capturing her lips in a kiss, and soon her soul was traveling from her to him, absorbing into Jungkook as he caught her, laying her down on the ground. It looked like she merely had a heart attack and fell over in the alleyway. 
A sad ending for her. 
Kerri Jesen...
Jungkook walked away from the scene, his old persona melting off and his regular human form, although the feeling of a soul coursing through him had his heart pounding in his chest. It was a rush, almost like getting high. His head was spinning and his mind was reeling, but he knew this was simply due to the fact he hadn’t been collecting souls as frequently. 
Usually demons didn’t get this kind of rush.
Jungkook was wandering the streets towards the hotel when the distinct feeling of being watched fell over him. 
He didn’t stop moving, but he knew it was a witch tracking him. His mind was still a little hazy from the collection but he knew that it wasn’t supposed to last much longer. He didn’t head back to the hotel yet. He didn’t want to lead an angry witch right to you if he had a choice.
Just as he was about to turn another corner, a blade was presented to his throat. Jungkook stopped moving, the witch brandishing her blade scowling at him. 
“Demon,” she spat at him.
“Witch,” he spat back.
“You murdered my sister,” she growled, slicing at him with her knife. He dodged it easily, but he really didn’t want to fight. She wasn’t going to count towards his quota so there was no point in killing her, except to get her off his back. 
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he answered honestly. 
“I saw you!” she yelled. “You were at the bar! Then you shifted,” she said, taking another deep jab at him. 
He dodged again, but he could tell she was going to cause a scene with the way she was going. He had to get out and fast. When she lunged again, Jungkook took her by the wrist and threw her onto the ground and took off running. He ran towards the hotel, his only instinct was telling him to head for you.
He bolted into the elevator and then took off towards your shared room. It was almost two am, he didn’t want to wake you but he was afraid he wasn’t going to be given an option. 
“Baby,” he called, walking into the room. 
You were asleep on the bed, curled up right where he left you. He moved closer and kissed your shoulder. “Baby, Y/N, we gotta go,” he said, urging you to wake. 
You did so slowly, exhaustion filling your limbs and making them heavier than lead. “What? What’s wrong Kook?” you murmured, reaching for him slowly. 
“Need you to get up, we’ve got trouble,” he said. 
Your eyes cleared and you moved to get dressed quickly. Jungkook was starting to grab your stuff when the window to your room shattered. 
“Fuck!” You screamed, falling back on the floor as the witch jumped through the now broken window. 
“Y/N!”
The witch stood and glared at you. You felt the hostility and rage pouring off her in waves. Whatever Jungkook did, he really really pissed her off. Without much more ceremony you stood and blocked her from Jungkook.
“What are you doing?” you asked, voice firm. “What the fuck is going on?”
“That fucking demon killed my sister-and you... you’re a fucking witch! What the hell are you doing with a demon anyways? Did you summon it?”
“Him,” you corrected. “I didn’t summon him, I’m helping return him to hell,” you stated calmly.
“And helping it return to hell involves fucking it?”
You bristled at her tone.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you warned, feeling your magic swirl in your fingertips. 
“Baby-”
“Don’t Jungkook, you stay behind me right now,” you stated. 
The witch looked at you with curious eyes. “You love this demon?” 
Jungkook’s head snapped to you as you stared straight ahead. This witch was bad news. She wasn’t from your coven, but she was from one in this region you were certain. This was exactly what you didn’t want to happen. Because now she was picking a fight with a different coven. And she knew. She knew you were falling in love with Jungkook and it was her greatest weapon against you in this moment. 
You hardly had time to blink before she made her first attack, a flash of lightning directed for Jungkook. You didn’t even move in order to cast your magic,  you made a ward that protected him entirely without even the lift of a finger. 
“You’re strong, how old are you?” she asked, like the question was an average thing to hear from another person.
“Old enough to know when to pick my battles. I don’t want to fight with you, and Jungkook doesn’t either-”
“That demon killed my sister! I won’t let it live,” she growled. 
“I won’t let him die,” you said with a deep tone. Your eyes flashed purple and you sent magical flames towards her feet. They wouldn’t burn anything but the intended target. She shrieked and jumped onto the bed, rolling and throwing a knife towards you. With a quick flash you stopped the blade in the air and turned it towards her, propelling it forward with your magic. 
Jungkook was stunned to say the least. He’d never seen you use your magic like this before. He didn’t even know you were capable of this much mana manipulation and things of the like. He knew you were strong before because of how much energy you’d always been able to give him, but this was on an entirely different level.
“You’re betraying your sisters for this?!” the witch cried. 
“I am,” you said, a shot of ice towards her. Elemental magic was much more complex than most witches understood, so to have you wielding it so effortlessly had Jungkook impressed all over again. 
She dodged it. 
“What’s your name huh? What coven do you belong to?” you asked, warding against another attack. 
“My name is Maya Tudor, I’m from the Coven of Nyx Rienhardt, and we will not tolerate the murder of one of our own,” she hollered. 
“You’re not supposed to act on your own,” you said, blocking more of her attacks. “You’re meant to report this to Nyx herself. She would then dispose of me how she sees fit,” you said, pushing back against her. “Acting on your own without the thought of your sisters is just as damning. Isn’t that what I’m doing? You’re acting no better than me, little witchling.”
Maya shoved back against your wards, causing you and Jungkook to stumble onto the floor. Jungkook caught you, holding you close as Maya attempted another strike when you snapped back with a whip of ice. 
She cried as the magic burned her skin, causing a blister to form along her arm. “Fucking bitch!” she snarled, standing back as Jungkook pulled you to your feet.
“Come on,” he said, pulling you towards the door. 
The pair of you booked it down the hallway, the sound of Maya hot on your heels made you concerned. People weren’t supposed to know witches and demons or anything in regards to the supernatural. Maya was breaking more rules than you were at this point. 
Jungkook and you made it to the parking garage.
He was just trying to get you to the car so you could gather a bit of your strength to help the pair of you get away. At least for now. 
“Jungkook, slow down!” you cried, stumbling over your feet. 
“Can’t, we gotta get out of here Y/N,” he said, pulling harder. 
“Jungkook she’s gonna hear you-fuck!” 
With a pained whimper, you fell to your knees. The car was just a hundred yards away. “Y/N?!”
You held your side, as a small dagger peaked between your fingers. Jungkook kneeled with you, looking at the damage. You’d survive, he just had to get you in the fucking car. 
Unfortunately, it seemed you had different plans. 
You lifted yourself up onto your feet, wavering slightly as you stared at the brat of a witchling who you knew wouldn’t know any better. But honestly, this was too much. You weren’t going to lose Jungkook to her.
Yourself on the other hand...
“Enough,” you said, pulling the dagger from your side and dropping it to the floor. Maya looked at you with disdain evident in her eyes.
“I will get revenge for my fallen sister,” she growled.
“I won’t let you hurt him,” you declared firmly.
Jungkook swallowed hard. This witch was different then he’d originally anticipated. He was starting to sense a difference in her magic. You were taking most of the hits and he wondered why, up until now. 
She could slay a demon with the blade she’d hit you with. 
Banishing magic. 
No wonder you were being so fiercely protective. One hit with those blades and Jungkook would be killed. Or at the very least, sent back to hell.
But you were already hurt, he didn’t want to see you get injured even more. 
“Baby,” he called softly. 
“Don’t, don’t distract me or she’s going to-”
She sent rapid fire bolts towards you that you had to work hard to dodge, messing with your orientation enough that you stumbled. Jungkook tried to support you but you waved him off. “Go, go baby, get out of here.” 
Jungkook scoffed in shock. You were going to sacrifice yourself... for him?
That’s when he understood what Maya said in the hotel room. 
You loved him...
Jungkook’s throat got tight as he thought about you. However, his heart didn’t race. It couldn’t, he couldn’t love you the way he is now. Even if he was more human than most demons, he was still-ultimately-a creature of chaos. A creature that didn’t have a typical set of emotions. 
Although he knew... He knew deep within himself had he been human, he would love you. He’d love you with everything he was if... if only he could. 
Perhaps he should do this for you. He should make the call and give you the last thing he can.
His life. 
It would always be yours.
You and Maya were going back and forth. You were doing harder work, protecting yourself and Jungkook as Maya made ground with her attacks. The wound on your side was aching, and there was nothing you could do about it. Not without losing more of your energy that could be spent protecting and hopefully getting this bitch to leave you and Jungkook alone.
You were sweating, the magic energy finally starting to drain. However, the witchling didn’t look much better. If you could just hold out a little longer. 
Unfortunately, there was a hidden trump card. 
Maya shouted an incantation before you were surrounded with bright light. The pain hit you first as you thudded to the ground gasping, Maya had slammed you with lightning. You weren’t even able to get a ward up to protect yourself from the exhaustion coursing through your veins. Jungkook moved in front of you.
Maya stalked towards Jungkook with purpose. You whimpered from the ground, looking at him with a pained expression. He just gave you his smile before turning to face the witchling once more. 
“If I let you kill me, will you leave her alone?” Jungkook asked.
“Jungkook, no!” you cried desperately.
Maya considered it for a moment. “Yes, her coven will take care of her.”
You tried to get up, sending a bolt of ice towards her once more. It threw her on her ass for a moment before she was aiming another lightning bolt in your direction. 
“Y/N enough!” Jungkook said, looking back at you. “I’ll do this for you, okay?”
“No, no please don’t do that,” you begged. 
Maya approached Jungkook, taking the invitation and slamming a blade into his back. With a grunt Jungkook fell to his knees. 
It hurt like a bitch.
But the look on your face was infinitely worse. You looked so sad. 
“Justice for my sister has been served, I will leave you to your coven.”
With that, the witchling limped off, her powers effectively drained just as much as yours. If not more so. The only reason she won is because you were doing the work of two people. 
It didn’t matter now. 
“Jungkook,” you cried, crawling forwards to grab him. 
He was bleeding black blood, it was pouring out of the deep gash from the knife in his back. The banishing magic made it so he couldn’t heal himself. Not even your energy would save him now, not like you had enough of it to spare. 
“It’s okay,” he said softly, looking up at you. “This should be enough,” he huffed. 
“No, I don’t want you to die please,” you said, voice watery and eyes tearing up. 
Jungkook smiled at you. “Don’t cry baby, please don’t cry-I hate it,” he said, reaching to wipe your tears with his thumb. “I’m not worth crying over.”
“You are to me!” you sobbed. “Jungkook... I lov-”
“Shhh,” he shushed you. “I don’t deserve to hear those words,” he said, laying back. “I couldn’t even use my powers to protect you because of how far I’ve let myself fall... You had to make me a fuckin potion so I could hunt, baby,” he coughed. “Don’t say those words to me, I want to say them back but I can’t...”
You were crying hard enough for your shoulders to shake. “Please Jungkook, I don’t care if you can’t say them. I don’t care,” you promised.
“I do,” he whispered. “I want to say them to you someday. But not yet, save it for then...”
You nodded, barely able to speak anymore. “Don’t go...”
Jungkook breathed out slowly. “I’ll see you... again... Promise...”
With those words, Jungkook’s human frame disintegrated into ash, his clothes left behind in your lap and the blackened blood from his wound staining your hands. You gripped his shirt and cried desperately. You cried until your head ached.
You’d lost... everything.
--
Jungkook woke up in a forest. He wasn’t familiar with this place. 
Was he wrong? Did he not get sent back to Hell? 
“Nope, you didn’t,” a calm tone called from behind him. Jungkook whipped around to see a shorter man with blonde hair looking at him with peaceful features. 
“Who are you?” he asked, stumbling backwards. Where was he? And what was going on?
“I’m Jimin - and to answer those questions stumbling around in that head of yours - we are currently in purgatory,” he said. 
“How-”
“Can I know what you’re thinking?” he asked, finishing Jungkook’s statement. He rolled his eyes.
“Stop that,” he demanded. “I thought I would end up in Hell, why am I in purgatory?”
Jimin sighed deeply. “It’s complicated. But, I’ll explain it the best I can... You are a demon that is being punished by the Knights of Hell for acting in the interest of a human - is that correct? You’re Jungkook?”
“Yes, I am,” Jungkook confirmed. 
“Very well, then I am here to offer you a wish.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened. “A-A wish?”
Jimin smiled, eyes disappearing as he chuckled. “Yes, a wish. Just one. You were a demon that sacrificed your life for the life of another. We Angels have deemed that you are entitled to a wish for your acts,” he explained. “Choose wisely,” his voice turned serious. 
Jungkook could hardly believe what he was hearing. A wish? For saving you? The woman he wanted to love. He still had this feeling in his chest that he didn't deserve it. He didn’t deserve you. But, maybe he could. If he tried. If he made his wish and found you again, would you take him back? Would you let him love you properly this time?
There was only one way to find out. 
“It seems you’ve thought of a wish?” Jimin said with kind eyes. 
“A life - with her,” Jungkook breathed. “I wish for a life with her.”
“It will be a human life, you won’t have any magical abilities or powers. I can give you enough money to sustain you for a time but nothing longer than a year. From there you are on your own. If you die or are injured before finding her there is nothing I can do about that,” Jimin said. 
Jungkook nodded. “I want a life with her, that is my wish. As long as I can be with her that is all I want.”
“Then that is how it shall be.”
--
How had three years gone by already? 
You asked yourself this as you wiped down a counter at your job in a local cafe. Your coven had exiled you. You were extremely lucky they didn’t kill you. But they’d taken your magic-giving you enough to leave town and never return.
With that you hadn’t looked back. You only looked ahead, the only person you wanted could be out there right now. Right this very second. You only had enough magic left for a few tracking spells, and they’d led you to the countryside. A smaller town, but big enough to hide in if necessary.
You were hoping he was here. Your magic had never steered you wrong before, you just wanted to see him again. 
Was he alright? Did they hurt him in Hell? Was he still a demon or was he able to become human... 
All these thoughts swirled in your head. You cleaned the counter tops and the other tables and helped your boss, Seokjin, lock up for the evening.
“Alrighty,” he said, wiping his hands off and smiling. “You’re free to head home! Felix comes in tomorrow morning so you can take the day off if you want?” he said, a twinkle in his eye.
You tilted your head but nodded regardless. “Alright...”
What an odd one this guy was, but you decided to let it go-just appreciative of the day off tomorrow as you’d been working doubles the last week. 
Seokjin came closer with a smile. His irises flashed a bright neon green for just a moment. You could’ve sworn it happened but somehow you almost doubted your own eyes.
“Go home safely, Y/N, don’t worry about tomorrow here Felix will cover for you,” he said. “Have a good evening.”
With that, he placed his baseball cap on his head and trotted away.
Your mind clicked for a moment but all you could feel was appreciation.
No wonder Seokjin accepted you so quickly.
One exiled witch helps the other...
A small smile was on your face as you made your way back home to your apartment. It was tiny, but it was home and you honestly rather preferred the small space. You’d worked hard to make it cozy and welcoming and-
What the fuck?
The door wasn’t latched. You’d locked and latched that door when you came home. The only other person who had a key is Seokjin which you gave to him for emergencies only and this-
“Baby?”
Your head snapped up at the voice you thought you heard. But when you finally laid eyes on him, it was hard to believe he was actually here.
You looked at him, unable to process that he was actually there. Right there in front of you and you could just reach out and touch him but... the tears started faster.
“What...?” your voice was weak and breathless.
Jungkook stood before you, looking almost as if he’d never left. His hair was still long and curly. He was dressed in decent enough clothes, nothing fancy but he looked strong and well fed. Your heart was trembling in your chest at the mere thought of him coming back to you.
He was a demon, he didn’t have to do anything like this for a simple witch turned human. But here he was, standing inside your apartment.
“Hi...” he trailed off, looking sheepish.
“How did you...?” you asked, slowly moving closer into the apartment and out of the chill of the night. “How did you find me?”
Jungkook shut the door behind you and you turned to fling your arms around his neck. He caught you easily with a shy smile on his face. 
“I’ll always find you,” he said, like in some cheesy romance movie. But it made your heart throb in longing all over again.
“Are you a demon? You don’t feel like a demon-”
Jungkook snorted at your questions, knowing that you still couldn’t quite believe he was here. He held you close by your waist, kissing your temple as you breathed him in. “Baby... I’m not a demon, I’m human, just like you,” he said. 
It couldn’t be possible. You didn’t just hear those words from him. “H-Human?”
He pulled back from your embrace just enough to look into your eyes. “Look, I don’t have any demonic energy,” he said, his eyes deep brown and there was nothing underneath them but warmth. 
Human.
“How?” you asked, reaching forward to touch his face with a shaky hand. He held your hand against his face and leaned into your touch.
“Because I didn’t want to live without you,” he said. “I wound up in purgatory, and Angel granted me a wish due to me sacrificing my life for yours-I wished for... for a life with you, because my time with you-well... I only got a taste of it and I want more, I want more of those days like the ones at my place. I just want to be with you.”
Tears thatched along your lashes as you pulled him closer again.
“Can I say it now?” you whispered against his chest.
Jungkook laughed softly and kissed your head. “I hope to hear it often,” he said, leaning down and pulling you into a sweet kiss. “But wait just a bit longer,” he said, kissing you again.
You were wrapped up into his embrace as he pulled you back towards the couch. You eagerly followed, letting the moment of your reunion fuel this passion boiling in your stomach. 
Jungkook kept kissing you, almost as if he were trying to remember every inch of your lips. His hands trailed down your body, squeezing and moaning softly at the alluring softness. “Fuck... Fuck baby,” he grit out.
A teasing smile made its way onto your face. “Yeah? What do you want, Kook?” you nudged your nose against his. You sat down on the couch and pulled him closer by his pants. 
He sucked his lower lip between his teeth, watching with hazy eyes as you fished his hardening cock out of his pants. “Please baby, suck my cock for me, missed your pretty mouth so much,” he said, running his thumb from your jaw to your throat and pressing gingerly.
Your lips ran over his cock tantalizingly and Jungkook had to swallow to make sure he didn’t cum on your face. He hadn’t been touched since the last time you two were together and having human stamina now made it a little harder to refrain from his eagerness.
But, Jungkook knew what patience meant, so he calmed himself but his cock was heavy and throbbing in your hands.
“Fuck... must hurt to be this hard,” you said, and before he could growl at you to get started you swallowed his cock with practiced ease. You ran your hands up under his shirt and dragged your nails down his lower stomach while you sucked his cock deeper into your throat. 
Jungkook’s hand made it into your hair, gripping it as you bobbed your head to pleasure him. He sighed out harshly through his nose and you knew he was enjoying it. If you could smile you would’ve, his little tells were still the same. He smirked down at you, watching as your pretty eyes locked with his.
“Suck it so well baby, always so good for me my angel,” he groaned, voice turning whiny at the end. “Fuck!”
You took his balls in your hand and palmed them gently. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back in his head, breaths coming out short and stilted at your pleasuring him. You pulled off him for a moment to catch your breath. “Love sucking your cock baby, love it so much,” you smiled.
Jungkook laughed a breath out and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. You bit on it gently causing him to smile. “You wet for me?” he asked, his eyes sparkling. 
You dropped his cock and quickly pulled your pants off as you sat on the couch. Jungkook mirrored your actions, taking his clothes off as you laid yourself on the couch with your knees up, hiding the place he wanted the most right now.
Now, Jungkook wasn’t above begging. In fact, he rather enjoyed it from time to time. He crawled to you, naked and smiling. His hands wound around your calves and squeezed them gently before placing kisses along your shins and ankles. 
“Please baby,” he said, lips trailing along your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Please open your legs?” he asked, voice sweet and pleading. “Gonna let me eat this pussy? Want my tongue on you?”
You smiled and pulled him in for a kiss while opening your legs so he could touch. He kissed you passionately before leaving tender smooches along the soft swells of your skin. Your breasts first, capturing a nipple between his sinfully sweet lips as his hand trailed to your dripping pussy. He let out a desperate breath against your chest when he pushed a finger inside your heat. “Fuck, fuck baby your pussy-fuck,” he said, moving from your chest to your core with deft movements.
Jungkook looked at your core swallowing his fingers and you couldn’t help the mewls falling from your lips. “B-Baby!” you whined softly, running your hand through his hair. 
“Yeah,” he breathed against your core. His eyes flicked up to yours and they swirled with hunger. “What is it baby?”
You swallowed hard, biting your lip. “Eat me baby? Please, so needy for you,” you begged. 
One of your favorite things about sex with Jungkook was he could be in charge one moment, then the next second you could take it from him. It made the intimacy between the two of you spontaneous and alluring. Jungkook knew you just as well as you knew him and that was exciting. It made you cry for him, begging for the pleasure and bliss you knew only he could give you.
“Alright angel, lean back and let me make you cum,” he said, pulling you closer by your thighs so he could eat your pussy the way he wanted. He placed several warm kisses along your inner thighs before running his tongue through your folds with a fat lick to your clit. You cried softly for him to continue, which he did.
Jungkook made each lick on your center hotter than the last, running his tongue over your clit differently each time. Your feet twitched when he sucked on your core with his plush lips. “Fuck, fuck-Jungkook!” you whimpered, pulling his hair back and away from his face so you could see his flushed face between your thighs. 
“Taste so good baby,” he moaned, smiling before licking into your cunt once more. 
“K-Koo,” you said. “Please baby, wanna cum,” you moaned sweetly.
His chest throbbed at the sound of your pleased noises. He really wasn’t sure if what he felt with you before was love, but now? Now he knew it wasn’t, because the feeling in his chest... the one taking home in his heart right now was absolutely love. 
“I’ll get you there baby,” he promised, sucking your clit into his mouth. He pushed two fingers inside you this time, making your stomach clench in bliss. 
“Yeah~ Right there Kook, right there baby please!”
He worked you up further and further, pushing his fingers along with his tongue to create a tension in your belly that had you fit to burst. But just as you would feel yourself cresting to that perfect orgasm waiting for you, he’d slow down or remove his mouth from you entirely.
After the third time you cried at him for it.
“Koo! Baby, please-lemme cum, wan’ it,” you begged, your hairline was sweaty and Jungkook smiled at your desperate sounding voice.
“Tell me one thing baby, then I’ll let you cum,” he said, working you up for the fourth time.
“Anything baby, anything you want.” Your weak tone made him smirk.
“Tell me you love me baby, say you love me and I’ll make you cum,” he said, moving over you to kiss your lips while his fingers still played between your legs.
Your heart stammered in your chest at his request. But it was an easy smile that made it to your face as you answered him after your kiss. “I love you,” you murmured, kissing him with those beautiful words fresh from your lips.
He wanted to kiss those words, he wanted to kiss you and tell you the same... “Baby, Y/N,” he breathed, capturing your lips in a reverent kiss. “I love you,” he said. 
Jungkook was stunned at how simple it was to say, and yet it made his heart quake. “I love you, Y/N,” he repeated.
“Jungkook,” you gasped when he pulled his fingers from you to put them in your mouth. You cleaned them as he seemed to want and he moaned with the need to be inside you. Although you were just as eager. Your hand reached down to pump his woefully neglected cock. Jungkook moaned against your temple, hips rutting slightly at the stimulation.
“Want me to put it in now?” he asked, voice breathless.
“Yes,” you whined. 
Jungkook didn’t make you wait, taking his cock and lining it up with your soaking pussy. He gave you a look and you just nodded, giving him your consent and with that he pushed inside slowly. You both moaned in pleasure. “Fuck... fuck you’re so wet,” he panted. 
“Jungkook!” you cried out. He kissed you desperately then, his mouth searching and hot against your own. 
“M’right here baby, always gonna be right here,” he said, voice tender against your skin.
You mewled at his gentle thrusts to open you up. It was so much and yet not enough. “More,” you pleaded with him, hands finding his back.
A sharper thrust made your eyes roll back. “Right there?” he asked, eyes wild and chest heaving. He’d been holding off really well but now that he was inside of your pussy it was game over. He loved being inside of you like this far too much. “Baby your pussy feels so good. Fuck, fuck please,” he gasped.
You smiled at his frantic features. He didn’t want to cum without you. It was sweet, but he really didn’t need to worry. You had almost cum just from him putting it in. 
“Jungkook, c-close,” you said, eyes watery and pretty in the evening light.
He nodded. “I’m right there too,” he whispered, thrusting harder and harder into you. It had you seeing stars. He kissed you, sucking on your lips and tangling your tongues together. “Yes, yes, fuck...”
The tightening in your stomach was finally on the verge of snapping once more. Jungkook was whispering sweet words into your ears as he pounded you against your couch. “Fuck-fuck!” you sobbed, arms wrapped around his neck as he covered your body. 
You felt a heat in your belly as your orgasm rushed through your body in deep pulses. Jungkook was stunned as you creamed his cock, pulling him along shortly into his own climax as he painted your walls white with his release.
He groaned your name against your neck, shivering and gently coaxing the pair of you through your two highs. You turned your head to kiss him, smiling softly. 
“Holy shit,” he laughed, looking at you with a dizzying smile. “Give me a second baby, your pussy almost killed me.”
You snorted at him, kissing him once more regardless. “I missed you,” you said tenderly, pulling him closer. Even as his cock softened inside of you.
Jungkook kissed you back, cradling your head as he pulled out. His eyes met yours and he gave a sweet smile. “I missed you too, but I’ll be here from now on... I’m yours, if you want me.”
“I’ve always wanted you, Jungkook,” you said, kissing his jaw and relishing in the afterglow that was settling into your warm body.
“Keep me then,” he said with a smile.
“I’ll keep you-forever...”
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camarocarfight · 8 months
Text
Alastor's Bloody Valentine
Human Alastor x Reader late Valentine's Day special
Rated very mature with sexual content, murder, blood, and gore. Set in the 1930s with human characters. I suppose you could look at this as being a little Alastor back story.
Maybe there'll be a part deux?
It's kinda edited, but I got lazy and lost interest, and I just wanted to finish it. I hope all of you dear readers enjoy!
New Orleans, 1932
There was a chill in the air, carried in on a breeze that whistled through the old willow trees, and rustled their long, spindle-like branches. The trill of grasshoppers and crickets and the occasional screech of a night owl were customary of the bayou. Only interrupted by the nightly steam train, whose whistle echoed for miles until it faded like a whisper. There was no moon - only an ebony sky accompanied by its thousands of starry hosts. 
As serene as it all seemed, the bayou was one of the most dangerous places to be in 1932. Not just because of the alligators, snakes, and venomous spiders. The neighboring town was full of talk about the Louisiana serial killer, who lured their victims into the darkness of the bayou to slaughter them, leaving no trace or remains. People simply vanished, though it seemed to be mostly men of diverse age and status. Innocent and not so innocent. The most recent being a younger gentleman who had just gotten married. The papers did fail to mention that he'd nearly beaten his new wife within an inch of her life not long after the wedding, but news traveled fast. He was the thirteenth person to go missing.
With Valentine's Day came the fear of who the next victim would be. Mothers and wives kept tight leashes on their sons and husbands, and the police put in place a mandatory curfew. Temporary police sentinels were stationed on street corners, keeping watch over the streets day and night. Which subsequently made it more difficult to get to and from the only speakeasy in town. The police were happy - killing two birds with one stone. 
“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, don't let this curfew get you down. Take your gal out on the town for some swing and make the most out of your Valentine's Day. Ladies, keep your gents close, and stay safe-”
“Y’see,” Mimzy turned the cathedral radio off with a huff and crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest. “This curfew is ruinin’ everything!” 
You rolled your eyes and leaned your elbow on the bar and rested your cheek in the palm of your hand. Mimzy had been on a tangent for the last week for having to close the speakeasy. Being that it was in the basement of an old sugar mill, it was too risky to keep it running with the police snooping around. In one night, with the help of Husker, all of the liquor was moved under the cover of darkness to the crawl space of Alastor's hunting cabin deep in the bayou. The liquor would at least be safe if the police felt it necessary to search the sugar mill. The only thing they'd find would be an empty stage and bar. 
With no speakeasy, the regular meet and greet for you and all of your friends was the cabin. It was a comfortable space, at least. Alastor had used the extra money he made from his radio show to install new, polished wood floors, a nice bar, and even a loft with a decent sized bed when he would stay for the first week of hunting. It also had a decent kitchen, which was Alastor's favorite feature. As for you, Alastor made sure to give you your own bit of space. In the corner of the main room was a stone fireplace with book shelves flanking either side. The shelves were filled to the brim with books of every genre. Hanging above the fireplace was Alastor’s prized Stag - previously occupied by Alastor’s portrait from when he was in the service. You never did tell him just how creepy you found the stuffed creature. Alastor loved the hunting sport, but you appreciated wildlife as just that; alive. 
Mimzy sauntered over from the radio and sat herself on a rickety barstool, her brows pinched. “How am I gonna make money? Who knows how long this whole thing will go on for. And where's Alastor? His show ended an hour ago. His ass better not be dead too.”
You sighed and stood from your barstool to round the bar. There was a bottle of, ironic enough, Red Stag that was already open. It wasn't your first choice, but prohibition made everyone less picky. You poured yourself a generous glass, only for Mimzy to swipe it from you, and gulp it down in one swig. Your eye twitched in irritation as you glared at the woman through your lashes. The relationship between the two of you was decent enough, but as of late, she'd been grating your nerves and testing your patience. Mimzy's flamboyant personality didn’t jive well with your own in an enclosed space. You were more reserved, shy, and softly spoken. Not to mention that the cabin had always been an intimate space for you and Alastor. It didn't seem so intimate now - being that it was now shared space with Mimzy and Husker. 
“Would you like another drink before I pour my own,” you asked, your voicing clipped. 
Your head was pounding now, with a migraine blooming behind your eyes. The little grin that slid over Mimzy's lips told you that she knew exactly what she was doing. 
“Actually, Doll, I would,” she flashed you a grin with her nose wrinkling as she did so. “You're such a good friend,” Mimzy cooed and thrust her empty glass in your face. 
Your grip on the bottle of Red Stag was white knuckle, and you opened your mouth to give her a piece of your mind, but the words caught in your throat when the cabin door opened. Both you and Mimzy looked over to see Husker coming through the door with Alastor trailing behind him. Your shoulders visibly deflated when your gaze met Alastor's.
Mimzy put her glass down on the bar and threw her arms up in glee. “Alastor! I'm so glad to see you!”
“And I you,” Alastor grinned. “Thanks for holding down the fort and watching over my darling for me.”
“I don't need a babysitter,” you grumbled and nodded your head at Husker when he gave you a sympathetic smile. “Hey, Husk.”
“Cher,” Husk greeted in that deep, baritone voice. 
Alastor laughed boisterously and leaned on the bar in front of you. Upon meeting his gaze, his chocolate brown pools started to melt away all of the tension in your body. It was so easy for you to get lost in his eyes. 
“I jest, my dear. Husker here is going to drive Mimzy home, and we are going to celebrate!”
Mimzy quirked a brow and made a sound akin to a high-pitched scoff. “I ain't ready to leave yet. I want to celebrate too! We could have a round of drinks!”
Husk had noticed that you and Alastor had yet to tear apart your gazes and were seeming lost in each other. Alastor flashed you a dazzling smile and leaned over the bar to press a chaste kiss to your lips. That was enough for your cheeks to flush and become a brilliant crimson. 
“C'mon,” Husk grabbed Mimzy's fur coat off the coat rack and all but threw it into the woman's face. “Before I drag your ass to the car.”
Mimzy put her coat on in a huff, then fussed over her hair, throwing insults at Husker as she did so. 
“Thank you,” you mouthed to Alastor and waved to Mimzy as she was all but pushed out the door by Husker. You could hear her nagging as she walked all the way to the door. “Poor Husker.”
“He'll live,” Alastor hummed and gave you a wink. “Mimzy, however,” he chuckled.
“That would be too good to be true,” you mumbled and grabbed the bottle of Red Stag to pour yourself that long awaited glass. “How was work?”
Alastor set about removing his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress. Your gaze was drawn to the newly exposed, tan flesh of his forearms. “Same as always, my dear. I'm sure you were listening?”
“Until Mimzy turned the radio off,” You walked into the main sitting area and sat in your favorite rocking chair. 
In your left hand was your glass of bourbon that you then took a sip of. From over the brim of the glass, you continued to study your partner as he made himself comfortable. Alastor's bowtie was now untied, and the top button of his dress shirt undone, exposing a delicious expanse of his neck. Being that it was Valentine's Day, you hoped that it meant that Alastor wouldn't mind taking everything farther than usual. The man would tease you here and there, whispering dirty things in your ear, because he knew it riled you up. The act of sex, however, just didn't fit his idealism. Any affection from Alastor would include kissing and touching, maybe heavy petting, but the two of you had only had penetrative sex a handful of times. Each time it happened was mind-blowing, leaving you craving more and waiting on bated breath to feel him the same way again. You could feel yourself beginning to flush just thinking about it - the heat slowly building up in your chest and rising until your cheeks were crimson. At least you could blame it on the bourbon, which you quickly threw back and tore your gaze away from Alastor. 
“So,” Alastor sat down on the couch and crossed his legs, and draped his left arm over the back of the couch. “Quiet evening with a shared drink, my darling?”
Honestly, the man was entirely too distracting. It didn't help either that the bourbon was affecting you far sooner than you anticipated. Your mind blanked, seeing Alastor sitting there - sleeves rolled up, bowtie undone, the red vest that matched his trousers that fit him entirely too well. Alastor was your perfect definition of a sex-god that had a distaste for the very thing that you craved. His smoldering gaze and satisfied, closed-mouth grin told you that he knew exactly what  kind of effect he had on you. 
“Are you alright,” he cocked his head to the side. “You look bothered.”
“You're a tease,” you swallowed. 
Alastor’s brows rose in surprise. “Me? I'm just sitting here,” he laughed and beckoned you over with his finger. “Come here, my darling.”
A bolt of red-hot arousal shot right up your spine, and your body moved automatically, seemingly out of your control and under Alastor’s. Alastor moved to uncross his legs and seized you by the hips with his strong hands. You now stood in between his spread thighs, looking down into his brown eyes as he gazed up at you. His lips quirked in a crooked grin, making him look like the cat who got the cream. 
“Tell me how I'm a tease,” Alastor whispered huskily. 
You brought your hands up to cup his face and ran your left thumb along his bottom lip. “You know what you do to me, Alastor.”
Alastor grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Oh, I'm well aware,” the man's pupils were now blown with his own need. “Would you like me to do something about that?”
Relief flooded you, and you nodded eagerly. By now, the bourbon was really beginning to have an effect on you and how much you needed the man before you. “I've been waiting so long, Alastor.”
“The wait makes it worthwhile,” he growled.
Before your tipsy mind could even comprehend what was happening, Alastor stood, effortlessly hoisting you up by the hips, and bounded towards the spiral staircase of the loft Your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his slim waist. Alastor’s arousal was very noticeable against your own pelvis. The heat from his girth radiated through his slacks. When his lips met yours in a fevered kiss, your mind blanked with arousal. Your senses quickly became overwhelmed by his touch, his scent, and his taste as his tongue coaxed your own in a scorching kiss. Alastor eagerly devoured your mouth and every subsequent moan he drew from you. He broke the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip as he did so. His lips then trailed down to the column of your neck where he sank his teeth into the supple flesh. You hissed from the pain and carded your fingers through his brunette hair until you had a handful and tugged, earning a groan from him. 
“Fuck it,” Alastor growled and sat you on the steps of the spiral staircase. 
Alastor’s hands snaked up your dress to pull your panties down your legs, leaving the silk garment dangling from your left ankle. You gasped when he cupped your dripping sex in his left hand and breathed against the side of your neck. 
“I’ll have you right here,” he growled and claimed your mouth once again. 
You moaned wontanly into his mouth when he penetrated you with two fingers and curled them against your g-spot. Even though sex was a rare occasion, Alastor had memorized your body from the inside out. Knowing every sensitive spot to kiss, lick, or bite. Alastor groaned and pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, ripping the most delicious moans from your throat. Each and every sound you made went straight to his cock that was now straining uncomfortably in his slacks. With a tweak of his fingers, Alastor had you coming with his name falling from your lips like the most beautiful prayer. 
“Alastor,” you were breathless, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. “I need you inside me.”
Alastor’s eyes darkened, and he carefully withdrew his fingers from your quivering sex. “You’ll have me,” he whispered and kissed you chastly. 
The sound of Alastor’s belt buckle was like music to your ears, as your body was finally getting the attention that it so badly craved. With your left hand, you reached between you and Alastor and took his now freed, sizeable length in your hand. You bit your lip and looked up at Alastor through your eyelashes. Alastor held your gaze as he guided himself into your tight heat, slowly splitting you open and seating himself inside you. Both of you panted, attempting to adjust to the almost foreign sensation. No, you weren’t a virgin, but Alastor had been your first, and since sex wasn’t a regular occurrence, it took both of you longer to adjust. You, more so than Alastor. 
He was thankfully patient, waiting until the pained look on your face was no longer before slowly pulling out and thrusting back into the hilt. The man clenched his teeth painfully and screwed his eyes shut, completely drunk off of the feeling of you fitting around him so perfectly. 
You held onto Alastor tightly, with your nails digging into the flesh of his back, even through his dress shirt. Alastor’s hands had your hips in a death grip, and you hoped that you would have bruises left in their place. You wanted Alastor to claim you - mark you -  so that everyone knew you belonged to him. 
“Come inside me, Alastor,” the words fell from your lips in a pathetic whimper before you even realised what you said.
The look Alastor gave you startled you, and his hips stuttered to a pause. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity, Alastor’s eyes searching your own as if looking for truth behind that request. You feared your moment of intimacy with Alastor was ruined until he started moving once more. This time, he moved slower, taking his time pulling all of the way out and sinking back into you. He continued to hold your gaze and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Is that what you want,” Alastor asked, but it was barely above a  whisper. “To be mine, forever?”
Of course it’s what you wanted. Alastor had been your first, and you wanted no one else. It was difficult for you to imagine your life any different. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about starting a family with Alastor. You brought your hands up to Alastor’s face and looked into those chocolate pools.
“Make me yours, forever, Alastor.”
~~~
You awoke the next morning, nestled in the king-sized bed of the loft alone. Alastor was nowhere to be found, with his side of the bed neatly made. Between your legs was an ache and a stickiness in the inside of your thighs that served as a reminder of the previous night's activities. What little bourbon you had, had also left you with a slight headache that settled over your temples. Coffee would be a good fix, and you wondered why you hadn't smelled it perking if Alastor had already been up. 
There was a fire going in the fireplace when you made your way down the staircase, confirming that Alastor was around, but nowhere to be seen. You thought nothing of it and went over to the kitchenette to get coffee perking and breakfast ready for whenever Alastor returned. 
You sat down in your rocking chair by the fireplace when the coffee was ready to enjoy your cup. The chair rocked rhythmically on the hardwood floor, nearly lulling you to sleep until you heard a god awful noise coming from the crawlspace under the cabin. Your first thought was that a stranger or the police had found the liquor stash, and you bolted out of the chair to get the pistol hidden among your books. 
The door to the crawlspace was in the kitchenette and was flung open, revealing a blood covered Alastor. The man looked up at you with blood splattered across his face and chest, staining his white dress shirt. There was enough blood that you couldn't tell if it was coming from Alastor or not. 
You dropped the pistol that was in your hands and rushed over to him, and hooked your arms around his arm. “A-alastor, what the hell? Are you-”
“It's fine!” He laughed and looked down at you with a grin. “It's not mine.”
Your eyes widened, and you took a tentative step away from him and shook your head. “Then, whose is it?”
Alastor ignored your question and casually walked over to the pot of coffee on the stove. He poured himself a mug, all the while humming a song with that same grin on his face. 
“Alastor,” you demanded. “You're scaring the hell out of me.”
“I'm sorry,” he put his coffee mug on the counter and turned back to you. “This,” he pointed to his stained shirt. “Is just the latest victim.”
“The latest…,” you paled, with the details finally coming together. “You're him.”
Alastor flashed you that dazzling grin and opened a drawer next to the stove. Without even looking, Alastor pulled a massive knife out and studied it. 
“Did you know, my darling, that in order to inflict a fatal wound, you need at least fifteen inches of penetration?”
“Please put the knife do-”
You gasped. Before you could even react, Alastor lunged forward, plunging the knife deep in your abdomen. He stood in front of you, holding the blade in place with his smile never faltering. Pain blossomed throughout your body, and you began to choke on the blood that bubbled up through your throat. You coughed and watched the blood mixed sputum splatter across Alastor’s already stained shirt. Tears fell freely from your eyes, staining your cheeks, and your trembling hands grabbed onto Alastor’s arm that still held the knife inside you.
Blinking up at Alastor through your tears, you saw no remorse on his face. Just that twisted grin that you had fallen in love with so many years ago. 
“You should know I'm too much like my father to have children,” Alastor said darkly. “That's a risk I cannot take.”
Alastor pulled the knife out of your abdomen and stepped back as you crumpled to the floor on your knees. The pain was white-hot, but it was nothing compared to that of your broken heart. Your body screamed for his closeness and wanted to hate him for everything. Even after the previous night, after telling you he would be with you forever. In an attempt to stop the bleeding, you held pressure on the wound, but you knew it was no use. You were dying. At the hands of your lover.
“It won't be long, my love,” Alastor got down on one knee and brushed your hair out of your face. “I'm sorry I had to do this.”
“F-fuck you,” you gasped and choked. 
Your vision was beginning to fade in and out, along with your hearing. The weight of your body suddenly became too much and you fell to your side. Before your head hit the floor, Alastor had caught you and laid you down gently. The last sensation you felt, other than the pain, was Alastor kissing you. It was a passionate kiss, similar to that of the kiss you shared while making love. He didn't care about the blood that pooled from your mouth, but seemed to enjoy it more than anything. When he broke the kiss, you met his gaze, struggling to keep your eyes open.
“I'll see you in hell,” you spit, using every ounce of energy you had left before going still.
Alastor smiled down at your now lifeless body and ran his fingers through your hair. A single tear ran down his cheek, and his smile grew into a grin.
“It's a date.”
Part Two
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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months
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Some Tips & Advice for Writing Fiction
"Since advice is usually ignored and rules are routinely broken, I refer to these little pearls as merely 'suggestions.'....There’s nothing binding here. All suggestions can be ignored when necessary." —John Grisham
Love your story. Many writers create their best work when they’re deeply invested in their characters and plot.
Withhold information from your readers. When writing fiction, only give readers the information they need to know in the moment. Ernest Hemingway’s iceberg theory in writing is to show your readers just the tip of the iceberg. The supporting details—like backstory—should remain unseen, just like the mass of an iceberg under the water’s surface. This prevents readers from getting overwhelmed with information and lets them use their imagination to fill in the blanks.
Write simple sentences. Think of Shakespeare’s line, “To be or not to be?” famous for its brevity and the way it quickly describes a character’s toiling over their own life. There is a time and place for bigger words and denser text, but you can get story points across in simple sentences and language. Try using succinct language when writing, so that every word and sentence has a clear purpose.
Mix up your writing. To become a better writer, try different types of writing. If you’re a novelist, take a stab at a short story. If you’re writing fiction, try writing nonfiction. Try a more casual writing style by blogging. Each piece of writing has a different point of view and different style rules that will help your overall writing skills.
Write every day. Great writers have a regular writing habit. That means dedicating time every day to the craft of writing. Some writers assign themselves a daily word count; Stephen King writes 2,000 words a day. You might also join a writing group; being accountable to other people is a great motivator. Don’t worry if what you jot down is technically bad writing or you struggle to get something onto a blank page. Some days will be more productive than others. The more you write the easier it gets.
Set milestones. The average word count for a book is 75,000 words. That can make novel writing intimidating. If you’re working on your first novel, stay motivated by setting milestones. This will help you break the book down mentally so it is easier to manage and easier to stick with.
Understand basic story structure. Professional writers are well-versed in the framework most stories follow, from exposition and rising action through to the climax and falling action. Create an outline to map your main plot and subplots on paper before you get started.
Don't write the first scene until you know the last. This necessitates the use of a dreaded device commonly called an outline. Virtually all writers hate that word. Plotting takes careful planning. Writers waste years pursuing stories that eventually don’t work.
Learn strong character development techniques. There are effective ways to create a character arc in literature. Learn what character information to reveal to increase tension in your story. Your main characters should have a backstory that informs their actions, motivations, and goals. Determine what point of view (POV)—first person or third person—complements the character’s interpretation of events.
Use the active voice. Your goal as an author is to write a page-turner—a book that keeps readers engaged from start to finish. Use the active voice in your stories. Sentences should generally follow the basic structure of noun-verb-object. While passive voice isn’t always a bad thing, limit it in your fiction writing.
Take breaks when you need them. Writer's block gets the best of every writer. Step away from your desk and get some exercise. Getting your blood flowing and being in a different environment can ignite ideas. Continue writing later that day or even the next.
Kill your darlings. An important piece of advice for writers is to know when words, paragraphs, chapters, or even characters, are unnecessary to the story. Being a good writer means having the ability to edit out excess information. If the material you cut is still a great piece of writing, see if you can build a short story around it.
Don't introduce 20 characters in the first chapter. A rookie mistake. Your readers are eager to get started. Don’t bombard them with a barrage of names from four generations of the same family. Five names are enough to get started.
Read other writers. Reading great writing can help you find your own voice and hone your writing skills. Read a variety of genres. It also helps to read the same genre as your novel. If you’re writing a thriller, then read other thrillers that show how to build tension, create plot points, and how to do the big reveal at the climax of the story.
Read beyond what you like. Dutch writer Thomas Heerma van Voss says: "Read as much and as widely as possible. See how other writers construct their scenes, tease the reader, build tension. Don’t be afraid, especially when starting out, to steal or imitate – all arts begins with imitation. One of the Netherlands’ most famous writers began his writing career by copying out stories by Ivan Turgenev in an effort to master his rhythm and way of writing."
Read writers who do not write like you. Trinidadian-British poet Vahni Capildeo says: “Make friends with writers who do not write like you. Swap books. Show each other work. Take the long view and the wide view. Writing adds your lifetime to the lifetime of everyone else who has written or read, or who will read or write, including non-‘literary’ folk. All sorts of people work carefully or lovingly or effectively with words. You may find inspiration in a law report (ancient or contemporary) or a tide chart, or in an ‘unplayable’ play…"
Research. Critically acclaimed novelist Guinevere Glasfurd says: “Writers are often exhorted to ‘write what they know’. But what if your protagonist is a fourteenth-century nun? Or a drag queen from Kentucky (and supposing you, the writer, are not)? Start by reminding yourself why you want to tell the story. Research can be frustrating; sometimes the archive is silent, the answers are not there. There’s a reason for that and that should spark other questions. Research can also be enormously rewarding. It can, and likely will, reveal something unexpected. It is important to remain alert to that, to be attentive and open to surprise. Research is an iterative process. Research a bit, write a bit, research a bit more. Allow your writing to remain fluid at this point, open to question, encouraging of further enquiry.”
Write to sell. To make a living doing what they love, fiction writers need to think like editors and publishers. In other words, approach your story with a marketing sensibility as well as a creative one to sell your book.
Write now, edit later. Young writers and aspiring writers might be tempted to spend a lot of time editing and rewriting as they type. Resist that temptation. Practice freewriting—a creative writing technique that encourages writers to let their ideas flow uninterrupted. Set a specific time to edit.
Get feedback. It can be hard to critique your own writing. When you have finished a piece of writing or a first draft, give it to someone to read. Ask for honest and specific feedback. This is a good way to learn what works and what doesn’t.
Think about publishing. Few authors write just for themselves. Envision where you want your story to be published. If you have a short story, think about submitting it to literary magazines. If you have a novel, you can send it to literary agents and publishing houses. You might also consider self-publishing if you really want to see your book in print.
Ignore writing advice that doesn't resonate with you. Not every writer works the same. You have to figure out what works for you in the long run. If working off of bullet-point outlines gives you hives, then don't do it. If you work best writing scenes out of order, then write those scenes out of order.
Sources: 1 2 3 4
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